#/but the impulsivity is there. i can imply who he is

[imaginesbymonika]

Futile Devices | Part 2

Pairing: Noel Gallagher x childhood-best friend!reader

Plot: There's nothing quite like realizing your feelings once it's too late. But what would life be without a speck of hope?

Previous part

(1990)

You always loathed clubbing. There was just something about the combination of a crowded space with loud music and the heinous smell of alcohol mixed with puke that sickened you to the bone. And you didn’t understand why it didn’t disgust most people. Your best friend Noel, happened to be one of those.

“Well, you do like going to concerts.”, he argued, observing your every move while getting dressed. You had no idea when this ritual of getting ready together started, but you didn’t really mind it. A soft sigh left your lips:” That’s just different. I go to concerts where I enjoy the music. I get what I paid for.” He only nodded.

You swallow (more than) thickly, while you make your way through the crowd towards the club toilet. The impulse to vomit just got too much. Not because you’re intoxicated, but because someone who stood very close to you puked right in front of your feet. The light at the end of the tunnel (which in this case happened to be pink and purple) came into sight and you let out a relieved sigh. However when someone grasps you by your upper arm you almost fall to your knees.

You instantly turn your head after managing to stabilize yourself and make eye contact with a very, very drunk man. Fear builds itself up in your stomach while you realize that his head is coming closer. You desperately want to take a step back, however, when your bare back comes into contact with the stony wall your eyes widen. You’re trapped, while his fingers dig themselves into the flesh of your arm.

“Oi. Sweetheart.”

For a second you consider vomiting into his face, however, before you can do anything there’s a fist colliding with his cheekbone. A small shriek escapes your lips while Noel steps into view. “You twat!”, he shouts over the unbelievably loud music:” I am going to kill you.” There’s something in his eyes that implies, that he might actually do it, considering the smell of alcohol that envelops him like an aura field.

„Noel!“, you say, clearly your throat before repeating it louder. He stares down at the man, who is sitting on the floor holding a tooth in between his fingers:“ If you touch her again, I swear to God I will kill ya.“ Whenever he got angry, his accent came out. And right now his accent has never been denser. „Let’s leave, Noel.“, your hand moves up to softly shake his shoulder and it’s only when you two finally make eye contact that his gaze softens. He nods. You quickly take his hand before guiding him through the mass towards the exit.

As soon as the big metal door falls shut behind you, you can hear his soft and husky voice:” Are you okay?” His hand is still in yours, holding on to it tightly, while his gaze roams your features - revealing nothing but genuine concern layered with something more. You can only nod before you let go of him to take your pack of cigarettes out of your purse. Out of the corner of your eye, you can catch a glimpse of how he looks down at his now empty hand.

With slightly shaky hands you place one cigarette in between your lips. “Y/N.”, he suddenly lets out:” I’m sorry. I should’ve been there to protect you.”

“But you did.” “Not quick enough.”

A sigh leaves your lips. “You know, I am always-.”, he stops talking and his eyes anxiously roam the street, it’s almost as if he’s attempting to figure out what he wants to say:” I’m always looking out for you, I just want you to know that.”

You nod and he mirrors it. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Want to go home?”

“Yes, please.”

[newfound-selfship-archived]

sometimes it’s nearly 2 am and i feel rly impulsive after recording a song, but my nervous energy absolutely outweighs my impulsivity

and so y’all are left with this post, wondering what in the goddamn i recorded and why i’m nervous LOL

[sysig]

Giving nicknames, testing boundaries (Patreon)

[aroaceleovaldez]

everyone talks about "oh what if Percy could bloodbend" but I think there is woeful little discussion about other potentially fucked up big 3 kid powers:

I mean it's already canonical Hades/Pluto kids can just. straight up kill you. Like literally Nico can just tap people on the shoulder and they get Thanos Snapped. Totally fucking dusted. Sometimes bones are left and he just starts controlling that but that seems to be optional. He does it like three times in Tower of Nero.

Not to mention Nico also being able to just rip people's souls out of their still living bodies. Is that a Ghost King thing or a Hades kid thing or a combo from both? Who knows.

All the different ways Big 3 kids can make somebody just. Explode. Zeus* kids can just build up air pressure, Poseidon kids can build up water/blood pressure, and Hades kids can just make your bones splinter and shoot out.

I don't think Zeus kids would be able to mind-control people by controlling electrical impulses BUT they could just send several thousand volts directly through you via touch so like. That's not great.

Bloodbending for Poseidon kids is obvious but Hades kids have SO many options to potentially control people. Puppet their bones? Control their actual literal soul? If you go the route of "shadows are connected to the person" then dragging somebody around by their shadow? Or given that Hades kids are heavily implied to just have nearly all abilities ghosts are said to, there's a decent chance they could Just Straight Up Possess You.

Poseidon kids can control blood (and actually exemplified in canon - seemingly just about any bodily fluid, as Percy makes Achlys start choking on her own tears/snot). They could also theoretically completely dehydrate you in an instant.

Zeus* kids meanwhile can. Make air bubbles in your blood or etc. Which is VERY bad for those of you who are unaware. Hades kids can probably just yoink all the metals out of your blood. Casually revokes your iron privileges. Poseidon kids are just yoinking your blood In General. Etc etc.

And then yknow, the casual natural disasters stuff. Zeus kids making tornados and hurricanes? Plus the aforementioned just throwing massive amounts of electricity around. Probably also able to make dust storms and stuff. Poseidon kids making hurricanes and floods and earthquakes? Or being able to create geysers just wherever they want? Hades kids also being able to make earthquakes or just shatter the ground or create giant ravines and etc. And, yknow, ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE. And aforementioned insta-killing I guess. Bonus Hera kids probably being able to also do tornados and dust storms and etc, possibly moreso than Zeus kids.

*Zeus with an asterisk because wind/air powers actually seem to be more of an Hera/Juno thing and so exclusive to Jason and not Thalia, while Zeus/Jupiter seems to be just the storms/electricity.

[winterarmyy]

Welcome home... Soldat? | Part I

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Summary: Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra

Words: 2.9k++

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, dubious con on groping reader's body, dark(?) possessive behaviour, google translated russian, our soldat is kinda cute(?) in his own twisted way, and well, basically fluffy times with the soldat.

P/S: Guys, I never planned this at all. I mean, who am I kidding? All of my fics are not planned and I clearly write things out of impulse. Therefore, this one don't have much of a story building/plot because it was born out of one scene that flashed in my head and has been replayed way to many times that I need to let it out. Anyway, I still hope you enjoy it, somehow.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N didn't know when exactly she started this habit but she swore to herself to never grow out of it.

It's been nearly 2 years since the fall of Hydra and the avenger has accepted the winter soldier under their wing. Begrudgingly by Tony, but the rest of them seemed like they're not against it.

Y/N used to be an agent from SHIELD but since the fall, she had been recruited under the avenger's programme and had been living in the tower since.

She remembered the day when Bucky first came in, he was quiet and weary all the time. Like an abandoned cat, picked up by a stranger to come to their home. And it took the whole team months before he slowly adapted.

Who knew he would morphed into a sassy, grumpy little shit, right?

Since the first day, Y/N had been making an effort to make him feel welcomed. Helped him to adjust to modern times. Though it was not regular but she's glad he came to her from time to time to ask about things.

Y/N only meant it to be casual when she greeted him back from his missions. Usually, it'll be something like,

"Oh you're back?"

"How's the team?"

"Good to see you well put together from such horrendous mission."

"God, you look like you fell from 5 flight of stairs."

"Are you even trying to fight back, Bucky?"

But one time, Bucky came back in the morning around breakfast, she wasn't feeling sassy or clever. So, instead of greeting him with playful remarks, in the glory of her messy bed hair and iron man pyjamas, she greeted him with a sleepy smile, "Welcome home, Bucky."

And that surely made the 6 foot, bulky hunk of a soldier paralysed in his spot. His ocean blues slightly widen, and his cheeks deepen in blush.

For a moment, he wondered if this is how he would feel if he had a wife waiting for him to come back from war back in the 40's. But, then again nothing can be compared to the sight he was seeing as he is now.

And Y/N didn't want to ever lose that memory of him.

Cute and flustered Bucky is a very rare sight to see. Perhaps, this was the only time she could witness it and she want to cherish it for the rest of her life.

Though Bucky never replied to Y/N's greeting, it didn't stop them from starting a whole new routine.

Y/N always knew that she had a thing for the sargent, but about 2 months from that moment, Y/N realized she was in love.

And she waited for him, every single chance she had for arrival of the team to come back. Just like she is now, at 03:45 in the morning, while scavenging for something sweet she can eat as she waits for Bucky's return.

When, she turned around she was not expecting to have her face into clashed into something, "Oww!" Y/N shuts her eyes close as she rubbed her aching nose to ease the sharp strike of pain.

For a moment there, she seriously thought she might have just bumped into some kind of a solid air that appeared out of nowhere, but when she opened her eyes, it was just Bucky who was standing rather ominously still.

"My god, you scared the shit out of me. I know you used to be an assassin but, you gotta announce yourself sometimes, man." She joked. Although she did find it impressive that he managed to silently sneak up on her with those thick, heavy combat boots he was wearing.

"Woah, someone's been having a field day kicking your ass, huh?" Y/N's eyes lingered a little longer on the wounds at the side of his temple that she didn't notice the void in his eyes.

"Anyway..." she continued as she shook of the thoughts of caressing the cut on the corner of Bucky's lip, before greeting him with a gentle smile, "Welcome home."

Bucky's unresponsiveness was nothing new to her. With the amount of silent glares and gruff eye-rolls that he had shot at her these past few months, she's used to it by now.

But, when she finally had the guts to look him in the eye, only then she noticed the underlying shift. Albeit, his signature frown was still as present as ever but, those eyes had made her questioned of the slight difference from what she recognized.

Bucky wordlessly step forward and cornered her until her back meets the side of the kitchen isle. He took his time assessing her, almost admiring the way her iris wavered in confusion.

Something is wrong.

Her guts were screaming at her to notice it but her body wasn't reacting accordingly. That's when the voice of the AI, Jarvis echoed through the walls.

"Emergency alert: Code Winter. Initiated by Captain Steve Rogers. All agent is advised..." The announcement went on based on protocol while the cogs in Y/N's brain finally moved, "Code Winter? That means..."

 "...to be cautious of Sargent James Barnes; reprimand on sight however try not to engage alone. Agents is..." Jarvis voice in the background interwoven with Y/N's internal deduction, "...This is not Bucky?"

As she tried to put her own mind into perspective, trying to make herself believe that this man in front of her is not Bucky Barnes who she had been adoring over for these past few months, the soldat's hands reached the side of her neck, squeezing the softness of her flesh while his thumbs grazed the shape of her jawline.

His heavy gaze remained on hers, willing her to stay as still possible.

"Bucky...?" She called his name in hopes of triggering something, anything for within his controlled mind.

At end of the corridor leading towards the kitchen, Steve could see how the soldat had already gotten his hands on Y/N and panic strike him like lightning, he sprinted towards her as he despretely shouted, "Y/N! Stay away from--"

But Y/N was not able to render anything she heard from Steve, especially after a long silence, the soldat finally spoke, "Yes, I'm home..."

He carefully pulled her face closer to his as his lips planted on her soft cheek, "...мое cолнышко (my sunshine)" he lifted for a second just to kiss her again on her temple as he whispered lowly, "...мое Родная (my darling)"

Y/N's heart was beating madly for several different reasons. Parts of her was terrified that the soldat might break her neck within an instance, but it gradually changes into something much more confusing, a conflicted joy, when he keep on trailing his lips all over her face.

What is happening?

Both her and Steve was practically frozen in pure confusion.

Steve's mouth hanged open as words failed to form, while Y/N was unable to comprehend any sort of thoughts, let alone counter movements; when the soldat continue to whisper Russian endearments against her skin, littering sweet kisses on every part of her face, except for her lips as if he wanted to tease her.

His hands slowly travel down her back and stopped on the side of her waist, pulling her body closer until there was no space in between them anymore, before he wrapped his arms around her.

The drag of his stubble on her skin burned but it felt so good when he kissed it after.

Seconds later, Sam managed to catch up with Steve and his cautious approach fell as he witnessed the soldat's rather domestic actions towards Y/N.

Sam foolishly let his guard down as he approached with a question directed to Steve, "Is the tin man back?" That was when a bullet barely grazed the tip of his ear that then buried through the wall behind him.

Both Steve and Sam forced to stop any sort of movement as the soldat's aim was still locked towards their direction; his cold blue eyes pierced with a menacing warning, all the while posessively holding Y/N in his arms as his kisses trailed the side of her neck.

"Nope, not yet." Sam answered his own question as he waited for Steve's order.

Y/N felt like she have to do something to de-escalate the situation. After a quick deduction, and based on the soldat attitude towards her, she took the risk of believing that he would not do anything to hurt her, so she decided to play along.

Will it work though?

Well, she got to have to try for it work.

She gulped nervously before softly calls for him, "Soldat?" she looked up towards him.

When the soldat gave her his attention, she watched the loose strand of his hair fall down to his face. Her hand went up and reached for it, "How about we go back to your room and let me tend these wounds, hmm?" She cooed while tucking his behind his ear and briefly caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers.

The soldat didn't reply but instead silently process her proposition.

However, the hesitation only worried her more, so she continued to persuade, as she cautiously slide her hand, following his arm that was holding her teammates at gun point, "It'll be just the two of us. How's that sound?" She smiled warmly at him as she managed to lower it enough to grab the gun away from his grasp.

There was a glint of indecipherable emotion in his eyes when she mentioned that, which then he nodded in agreement.

"Okay then, let's go." She put the gun on the kitchen isle behind her and replaced her hand in his, pulling him towards his bedroom. The soldat did not protest to her lead, in fact her followed her obediently.

But before Y/N makes an exit, she looked back towards Steve and mouthed a reassuring message, "I got this."

The captain had all the rights to be weary but at this point, he just had to believe in Y/N's action plan. He nodded and replied, "Be safe. We'll be outside."

Along the walk towards Bucky's room, all she could think was that she can handle it and she got this under control.

But, does she?

Well, Y/N did have it under control, in terms of keeping the soldat from going on a berserk rampage but what she didn't think through was how the fuck she should handle his behaviour towards her.

After they arrived to Bucky's room, she had instructed him to strip off his tactical suit and leave him sitting at the edge of the bed, only in his short to avoid him reaching for any hidden weapons he had, all the while she went to grab the first aid from his bathroom.

Now that she almost done tending the small injuries on his face, it finally dawned to her that the soldat had her immobilized in between his legs as his hands rubbed the back of her thighs, occasionally squeezing the softness of her body in his tender grip.

His intent gaze waited patiently for her to finish and as soon as she did, he pulled her on his lap, making her to straddle on top him as he smushed his face on her chest, "Oh, Родная (darling)... I have missed you."

Her hands found her balance on his shoulders while the soldat roaming hands held her body still by the back of her waist.

It will be a lie if she said her heart didn't skipped when he confessed; even if it was still the soldat's thoughts and words but it was Bucky's voice.

The soldat pulled his other hand to play with the buttons of her pyjamas shirt, specifically around her chest area.

Part of him wanted to just rip her clothes off from her body but another part of him didn't want to. He didn't want scare her; and his precious little darling deserved to be pampered.

He had her buttons popped off; one by one, slow and almost sensual while Y/N was still in a heated debate with herself on what she should to next. She wanted the soldat to stop but god the temptation of wanting more was beyond her will power.

This is not Bucky.

She knew that. But, she had been bewitched by the look in those familiar blue eyes. So enthralled and so keen to unwrap her.

Y/N let out a low yet sharp gasp as her chest was finally revealed, "Soldat, what..." The soldat take a quick glance into her eyes, "...are you doing?" before trailing back down to the curve of her breasts, cupped so beautifully with a simple black bra.

His hands went back to grabbed her thighs as he replied, "Just wanna hold you." He leaned closer and left a lingering kiss in between her breasts, mumbling deep, " Wanna feel you, мое Родная (my darling)"

Fuck, it feels so good.

"Wanna feel you..." Y/N's grip on his bare shoulder tightened as he lips warmed the top of her right breast, "...here." An unexpected moan slipped out of her lips as the soldat latched his wet mouth on her skin, bruising it with his mark.

He groaned to the taste of her, so sweet and soft, he wanted to pull the bra off her and suckle on her nipple. He bet that they're perky and so sensitive. Bet he could make her cum just by playing with them.

He wanted to leave his bite mark around them, make them look much more prettier. But, he needed to be patient.

He brought his left hand up to hold the other side of her chest; pulling another pretty noise as the cold metal of his thumb gently stroked the exposed skin of her breast.

"Wanna feel you..." His flesh hand made its way lower and cupped her clothed sex, unexpectedly making her grind down to his hold, "...here."

She couldn't help to find shelter in the crook of his neck when he began to stroke her sensually.

This is getting out of hand.

Y/N doesn't mind to entertain him if the soldat only asked for him to hold her but it was clear that he wanted so much more than just innocent touches. Especially when he languidly rubbed his middle finger in between the slit of her pussy.

She hates how easy it was for Bucky's touch turned her on, his hands and his lips; regardless if his actions was someone else's.

This is wrong.

This has to stop.

"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.

"I can't touch you here?" He murmured softly as he pressed harder. Even with the barrier of the cotton panties, she was so sensitive to his touch; he loves that about her.

"N-no. You can't." She choked back a moan as she replied.

God, what if he doesn't care?

What if he'll get mad and force it on her?

She can't imagine the guilt Bucky had to experience if the soldat take her right now. And all because her stupid little brain cannot comprehend a plan to stop him, all because she let the soldat touch her as freely, as willingly.

Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.

Much to his deperateness, the soldat pulled her away and watched as her tears spilled out, "Oh darling, don't cry." He leaned in and kiss the corners of her eyes, murmuring his words of comfort, "I hate to see you cry, мое cолнышко (my sunshine)." His metal hand slithered to her back and his palm stroked her lovingly.

"Okay, okay. I won't touch your sweet princess part, okay?" He patted her pussy one last time before reaching to swipe her tears away. "I promise." He whispered.

As much as he wanted to fuck her stupid, fill her hole full with his load; however the soldat does hold her very dear to his heart and hates to see her sad.

"Just let me hold you close, darling?" He cooed as he kissed the edge of her lips.

Y/N didn't know why but she trusted his words. Maybe it was because he was so gentle with her, that she was tricked into believing him.

She watched the soldat waited patiently for her response and when she nodded softly, he swiftly lifted her in his arms and lay her down on the bed.

He tucked himself in under the sheets with her and naturally rested his face on her chest. His fleshed arms wrapped securely around her waist and his metal one around her thighs, as he pulled her closer; almost suffocating himself in between her warm breasts.

It was like an instinct for Y/N to encircle her arms around his neck while her hands run through the thick of his hair, absentmindedly playing with the softness of it.

She almost giggle when the soldat let out a deep-throated sound of relieved sighs as she continued to massage his scalp.

As the soldat started to sail deeper into dreamland, Y/N thought that maybe this will be the only and the last time she had the chance to hold Bucky like this and she knew it was wrong to feel grateful to the soldat because had done nothing but terrible, despicable things in the past.

But when she thought about it, none of those sins was his choice to make. He was created to kill and nothing else.

But what if he had something to hold on to?

A hope to look forward to?

A person to protect?

Or a home to go back to?

Would he still be the same monster he had been before?

She have not a slightest clue.

But, what she does know that this soldat who's clinging in her arms, deserves something kind.

And she hoped that she managed to give him a sense of peace for once in his life.

Y/N nuzzled to the side of his tired-looking face and placed a sweet kiss on his temple as she whispered ever-so-softly, "Welcome home, soldat."

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: This is possibly part 1? I'm not sure either. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! And reblogs is much appreciated!

[st4rrth0ughts]

Aventurine being so jealous you have to fuck him stupid. ♣️🎲

tw, cw: creeps looking at your body!! (dw they don't watch you fuck, you just look so pretty, like you are irl <3), dom bot aven to sub bot, breeding, jealous sex, 69 position, mating press (can you tell i like that), riding, reader is aven's bodyguard (I have an obsession with it), calling him a brat, implied consensual somnophillia, overstimulation, womb fucking, clothed sex (reader has pants, aven has shirt), dumbfication, and last of all, marriage talk <33

Its no secret he loves to spoil you. Suits, jewelry, delicacies that he personally gets his hands on, Aventurine has the money for your heart's desire. Earnings from the IPC and from his nightly gambling games allow him to spend it freely on you, as much as you insist it is unnecessary. He doesn't mind it, why spend it on himself when he can spend it on someone and beautiful and adorable as you? But even then, there are those who just cannot take the hint that your his. And sometimes, he needs you to remind him that you'll never, ever leave him.

He's not a easily jealous. Aventurine knows your his. and that he's yours. Anyone with so much as a brain could see that. But this time… he cant hep but wonder. It was just another one of his impulse shopping trips to buy you a new suit to your growing collection. He watches as the curtain of the dressing room just- barely covers you. The shoppers, men and women alike, all stop to watch you take off the outer layer, revealing that pretty lace shirt he knows you love. He's not surprised at the fact that the behind of the shirt reveals your back, showing your toned muscles and those faint scars he traces his fingers over every night. Watching those eyes ogle at you when when he's paying for your clothes, the lustful jealousy in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed by you.

The moment you reach home, he's on you, grunting as he pulls off your suit and shirt, the soft chuckles of pure amusement from you making him glare as he pushes you down, grabbing your belt and throwing it off the bed. Soft pants escaping his throat as he pulls down his pants and underwear, too impatient to take them off completely as he rubs his clit over your cock once its just barely free. Your hand reach out to grab his waist and just start fucking him, but he slaps them away.

"You only touch me when your about to cum , got it?"

Aeons, he's so beautiful when he's being such a bossy brat, it makes your dick harder. That doesn't go unnoticed, as he slams himself onto you, making both of you gasp. His hips move painfully slow, your eyes watching hungrily as his folds swallow your length, how his diamond pupils dilate while he rides you, grunts and moans of 'your mine, only- nfh- i get to ride this- Gnh- pretty cock-!'. Your his. His bodyguard, his handsome lucky charm, his lover behind closed walls. How dare anyone think otherwise, much less lay their eyes on your ethereal body?

The command for you to not lay your hands on him until your about to cum doesn't matter to you. Does the brat think he has control over you? In public, he does, your his bodyguard, of course you follow what he does. But in the bedroom? Behind closed doors, its you who controls him. Grabbing his waist and pulling him off your cock, which makes the gambler whine out as the sudden emptiness, and setting his cunt on your lips, his mouth right beside your cock.

'So greedy…' you think to yourself as our tongue plunges into his folds, lapping at the slick and sucking his clit, while he gags on your length, tip hitting the back of his throat as he whimpers from your ministrations. Pulling away to catch his breath, a sharp shriek escapes his throat when you pinch his clit as punishment, the tip of your tongue prodding that sweet bundle of nerves making his thighs shake as he desperately rub his cunt on your mouth. Although there's the lack of warmth from his mouth on your dick, your not complaining if you get to hear the way Aventurine squeals when he squirts in your waiting mouth.

Pushing your dick into his slick pussy, as he whines and covers his face in embarrassment at the fact that he was supposed to be the one to give you instructions, he was supposed to be the one to give you orders on how to fuck him, not the other way around! But all thoughts fly out of the window the moment your hips snap up, his back arching instantly as he gasps and writhes from how fucking big you are, pretty purple eyes widening as he watches your dick bulges in his belly. You move just a little closer, and he nuzzles against your shoulder blade, soft whines of 'please, fuck me already..!' making the last bit of self control you had snap. He was not going to walk tomorrow.

Pressing his legs to his chest, and plunging your length deep intpo his cunt, ignoring his weak gasps as he scrambles to find purchase, settling to hold your neck for dear life as you fuck him so ahrd into the mattress he's seeing stars, loud wails of 'Nnhh-! Ooh--!! Too deep, too de- Ghk--!!' going ignored as your cock slams into his cervix, his knees pressing flush against his bite and kiss littered chest, the gambler's eyes rolling back as he cums again, hands moving to grasp at your back, eyes rolling back as you fill him, aeons- he can swear to the Amber Lord themselves that he can feel your cum filling him p so nicely. He just couldn't help but beg for more, how cute.

Turning him over onto his stomach, and pressing your body on top of his, his smaller frame being completely trapped down on the bed, his lewd sounds muffled by the pillow as he tried to buck his hips back on your, the new position allowing your cock to push right into his womb, he can just feel your length so, so deep in him, that he had to bite his lips to stop any loud shrieks from escaping him. But you didn't like that. Yanking his hair, forcing his head back and letting those pretty, pornographic cries escape him just made your movements faster. The gambler's pretty pupils blow into hearts, a loud moan escaping him as he creamed all over your cock, head falling back onto the pillow as his eyes closed, cum spilling out of his pussy and a lovely, fucked dumb expression on his face, soft pleas of 'hng…i wan more, love, please? wan you to fill me again…' Well, maybe you could go for a few more rounds before running a bath…

When he comes to, he's in the bath with you, leaning against your muscular body, in warm water with a lovely candlelight ambience. Strange, you never really went so far to make a aftercare bath so… extravagant, as much as you always make it the best for him. Just when he's about to ask you, you beat him to it. As he stares at a beautiful gold ring adorned with a precious aventurine(heh) gem in the middle that you were holding out in front of him shyly, as the gambler glances back teary eyed a he watched you, his normally stoic bodyguard, stammer over your words. You don't even have to finish, he's already holding you close, grinning like a idiot as he agreed to your proposal. You were finally his, and he was finally yours.

[dotster001]

Can I request overblot crew + malmal (idk if he's gonna be the one who does it so) w a mc who has the uncontrollable impulse to just. Touch things they deem pretty/cute/whatever? Like malmals horns, leonas ears and tail, idias hair, jamils little coin things in his hair, vils crown, etc?

Or funnier, things they're supposed to not touch bc common sense? Like the boiling hot liquid in the alchemy cauldron, the fireplace, broken glass, basically anything someone would have to rip their hands away from lol

A/N: I did a mix of things. As someone who wants to put dungeons and dragons dice right into my mouth, I had a lot of fun with this one 😂 I want to put my hands in jamil and Azul's hair so bad 😭

CW: injury in Azul and Idia's parts, self inflicted, cause obviously 😂

3k follower masterlist

No one was allowed to touch the roses. Well, no one but you. You like to run your fingers on the petals, tracing any visible veins, touching paint spots, and booping him on the nose if the rose hasn't dried yet.

So sweet, so soft, so innocent. He only wished that…

"Fuck!"

No matter how many times he reminded you not to, you always poked the thorns.

"Y/N," he said sternly, "the entire point of thorns on roses is that they hurt.  They are intended to protect the rose!"

"But if not for touch, why touch shaped?" You pouted.

"Sorry?"

You sighed, and stared at the rose with a sharp glare, before turning back to him with a mischievous grin. 

"If I can't play with the roses, can I play with your scepter staff thing?"

He should have known. You'd been asking to "play with it" for weeks now. And every time he'd clutched it tighter, and taken a step back. He loved you! But he didn't trust whatever it was you wanted to do with his staff.

"Please, my rose?" You gently traced the collar of his dorm uniform, pressing your free hand to his chest and  giving him the sweetest puppy dog eyes.

He sighed, and placed his scepter in your hand, and was given immediate whiplash as you started swinging it through the air like a baseball bat.

"What are you doing?!?"

"Fighting crime!"

He felt a ticklish feeling in his half awake state. Assuming it was a fly of some sort, he flicked his ears, and attempted to drift back off. But the ticklish feeling was insistent. He opened one eye to see you scratching his ears. He groaned. He should have known. This was a common occurrence.

"Oy, Herbivore!"

Your eyes widened, and flickered to his.

"Oh! You're awake!"

"Yeah, cause there's a fly buzzing by my ear."

You looked down at your hands then pulled them away.

"Oh, sorry."

You reached out to fiddle with one of his braids, your fingers doing what he could only describe as kneading the plaits.

He gripped your wrist, and pulled you down to his level, pressing you into his chest.

"If you're gonna mess with my hair, then, quid pro quo, you should expect there to be a price."

You nuzzled into his chest and nodded, your hand snaking back into his hair as he drifted off to your gentle fingers.

This was exactly why he had the Leech twins watch you. You always complained you didn't need a babysitter, but when left to your own devices…

"As your partner, I shouldn't have to sign a contract or pay a price for a healing potion!" You cried, clutching your burnt hand.

What had you done?

You'd touched a stove seconds after the burner was turned off.

Call it stupid curiosity.

"If there's no price, how can I ensure you won't keep making these decisions!" Azul cried, finishing the final touches of the contract he was writing.

"Decision implies I thought about it. I can't stress enough that there was no thought involved."

He glared at you, before pushing the contract over to you.

"Sign it, and I'll fix your hand."

"My hand hurts too much," you whined.

"Your non-dominant hand is the one you burned. Sign it."

You looked at the fine print before grimacing.

"This says I can't touch anything if it's an impulse touch. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"That means I can't just touch your hair anymore? I can't just come up and kiss you anymore?"

Azul groaned a massaged his temples. 

"This is a punishment. You get those privileges back in two weeks. Sign the damn contract."

You intended to glare at him, but a wave of pain hit your hand and you quickly signed it in shaky script.

"There," he pulled out a potion and gently took your hand. "Hopefully you learn something."

"I probably won't," you muttered bitterly.

"I know," he lamented.

His heart couldn't handle it. Even asking you out had nearly sent him into the recesses of his hood for eternity. 

But ever since then, whenever you got the chance, your hands were in his hair. Usually playing with the gold medallions in his hair. But if he happened to have worn his hair down that day….oh sevens.

You'd somehow snuck up on him, and snuck your way into his lap, cupping his face and running your hands through his hair.

You were technically looking at his face, but he knew you weren't actually seeing him. You were seeing his hair.

"Y/N," he muttered, feeling his face burn, "I have to finish this homework."

"Mhmm," you muttered, as dazed as if he'd charmed you.

"Y/N!" He whines, unable to stop himself from leaning into your touch, just a little.

"Mhmm," you hummed, before unexpectedly pressing his face to your chest to allow yourself more space to play with his long hair.

He thought about speaking up. But you couldn't see his increasingly flustered expression with his face pressed to your chest. And you were warm and comforting. And your hands in his hair didn't feel too bad. Maybe he could indulge. Just for a moment.

Crash

Vil groaned, and left the bathroom he'd been doing his makeup in, watching you stare at a shattered bottle. Was it potion, perfume, or lotion? Even you probably didn't know. You just saw a shiny, pretty bottle, and had to touch.

"I'll pay for it!" You shouted, eyes wide with fear.

He sighed, flicked his pen at the broom he'd bought not long after dating you, and watched as it magically swept up the pink shards and goop on the floor.

He then half heartedly glared at you, lazily pointing his pen in your direction.

"Don't touch another one."

You aggressively nodded, and he returned to the bathroom to finish his look.

Ten minutes later, he heard it.

Crash

He covered his mouth to hide his quiet laughter. He truly couldn't leave you alone for ten minutes. It was endearing truly. He heard the broom fall as you, he assumed, hastily moved to sweep it up, and he couldn't hold back anymore, allowing himself to release a full, joyous laugh.

"Hold that," Idia said excitedly as he passed you the scissors he'd just been using. His new game system was here! And he'd bundled it so that it came with Star Rogue 2, which had only just come out! 

He slowly pulled it out of the box, holding his breath from excitement, and,

"Fuck!" 

He turned to look at you, and your thumb was in your mouth.

"What's wrong?" 

You pulled your thumb out, showing a cut on the finger pad. 

"Ortho!" Idia called in a panic, holding your hand and staring at the cut. In his panic, he stuck your thumb in his own mouth.

"Ew, Idia," you said, face full of disgust at your boyfriend's spit on your hand.

Ortho came over before he could respond, and pulled your hand from Idia's mouth. He immediately got to work on the cut, seeming to have been aware of the problem immediately.

"How did you do this?" Idia asked, rocking back and forth to get rid of his nervous energy.

You looked up at Ortho, then back at Idia, then back to Ortho.

"I'm embarrassed to say it when Ortho is here. He'll just give me a speech."

"I only give speeches when you need them!" Ortho said defensively.

"Which is everytime," you muttered bitterly.

"Y/N, please, I'm scared. Tell me what happened!" Idia cried, beginning to pace as Ortho wrapped a bandage around your thumb.

You stared at the floor. "Well, you handed me the scissors, and I was curious how sharp they are, so…"

Idia groaned, and Ortho immediately began his speech about scissors.

Malleus knew he was tall, especially compared to humans. So he'd never thought much about how insistently stared up at him, eyes full of expectation.

It wasn't until he watched your cat creature's eyes do the same thing as he tied a shoelace, one day, that he realized that you wanted something. And it wasn't hard to figure out what it was.

"Are you looking at my horns? If you're so curious, you can touch them freely. But only if you are ready to see what will happen afterwards."

Little did he know that he had stumbled upon a rare breed of human, one that was unafraid of him, but to an unrealistic extent.

It was visible today, while you were on a walk together, and then you stopped walking. He paused to look back at you, but it was too late. You were climbing his body like a koala, all to reach his horns.

"If you simply asked me, I would let you touch them."

"So shiny! Must touch!"

He laughed lightly as you reached his horns, and heard you attempt to knock against them. They didn't have feeling, but he could guess from previous times this had happened that you were poking the points with a finger and running your hands up and down them.

He felt a pull on his head as your lower half lost its grip, and you helplessly dangled while holding his horns.

"Oh, my silly child of man," he laughed. "What am I going to do with you?" He flicked his pen and helped you float down, then turned to you. You were sitting in the grass and pouting.

"I wasn't done," you muttered.

He knelt in the grass with you, then lay his head on your lap, laughing again as you excitedly traced his horns, allowing himself to relax under your care.

[vagabond-umlaut]

every rose and its 'twin prickles'

Or: you and the two fearsome monsters, your knightly husband must wage a war against everyday, for the sake of a glimpse of you.

▸ dad!gojo satoru x mom!reader; 1.45 wc; fluff, fluff, gallons and gallons of fluff; a pair of cute, possessive and too-wise-for-their-age babies who love their mama wayyy too much; poor miserable deprived 'toru; sprinkles of humor too added in there; implied no curses!au

▸ i dump the blame of this on @afortoru's shoulders. A, look what you made me do ▸ writing this genre for the 1st time! characters, image or divider used aren't mine. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

Do you know what’s the best thing about work? 

Every evening it ends early. 

Do you know what’s the best thing about home? 

Every evening you’re there.   

Walking into the barely-lit flat, a soft smile lights up the expanse of Satoru’s face as the quiet sounds of snoring float over from the bedroom. Dumping the bag on the sofa and shrugging off the coat, the man moves silently further into the apartment – weary mind conjuring images of you in an oversized black tee [of his], curled into yourself in the king-sized bed, the cutest little pout on your lips as you babble in your sleep – then pauses, a hand on the doorknob.  

Two pairs of blue eyes sparkle at him from the almost-darkness of the room.  

Satoru closes the door behind and slumps against it.  

Two matching grins aim at his heart from the human blanket over your form. 

Sharp. Shrewd. Cruel. 

You wrap an arm round each of those two monkeys – the latter back here from their grandparents', two days before schedule.  

Ten years ago, were anyone to tell Satoru there would be a day in the future when he would have to fight for you, only to taste defeat, again and again and again, the man would have emptied his glass of champagne on their clothes, then kicked them out of the reception party. 

Yet, now... as he trudges closer to the door and extends a hand to brush a few wily wisps of hair away from your forehead – only to have it slapped away harshly by a little palm – he can’t help but wonder what sin he committed in his previous birth, to have received an angel like you as his wife, but two demons like them for his children.  

Sachiko, the older of the twins, glares up at her father. “Papa, no!! Mama’s sleeping,” She whisper-yells, eyes darting from him to you than back to him, lips tugged down in a scowl, the likes of which he has only seen in a mirror. On your other side, a mop of white hair nods, albeit not without a tiny yawn – Sachiro’s definitely inherited your sleepiness in a rainy weather.  

Satoru lifts an eyebrow in return. “I can see that, you two. Now go, play with your toys or something. I wanna cuddle with my wife.” 

“But we too wanna cuddle with Mama,” Sachiko retorts as she slips out from under your arm and sits up on the bed. The tiny ponytail on her white head stays in a complete disarray; your husband watches your daughter tug at it a couple of times, frowning, before she gives up, returning her glower to him as she continues, “So, you can’t cuddle with her. Mama is ours now.” 

Your son again gives a small “yes” at her words, followed by a yawn – a reaction which Sachiko doesn’t deem to be enough, apparently, given how she throws a glare his way next. “Hey, whose team are you on, dumbo? Mine or Papa’s?” 

The answer arrives in an instant, in the most matter-of-factly voice possible from a five-year-old. “Yours, obviously. I don’t want Papa to steal Mama away. She’s ours.” 

The smug grin directed his way next makes Satoru want to flick two foreheads pretty hard – but he doesn’t. Any rash or impulsive action can only do him more harm now, driving him further away from his goal.  

So, cogs whirring in his brain, he crouches down to his kids’ eye level and smiles.  

“What do you think of a compromise, kids? Why don’t you make a deal with me?”  

Two pairs of blue clash with the original pair of blue for a while, suspicion in one, suspicious curiosity in the other, while challenge swirls in the last; before a huff breaks the staring contest and your daughter folds her arms across her chest. Exchanging a glance and a nod with her, your son too sits up and announces, “Okay, we’re interested. What’s the deal?” 

Your husband lets out an internal whoop of victory. 

“Belgian chocolates in exchange for a cuddling session with my wife.” 

“Bleh!” Sachiko makes a disgusted face – something which takes him back to his younger days when Suguru and Shoko used to imitate his expressions – and whines, “They are so bitter, yuck! Suggest something better.” 

“A doll house for you and a car for Sachiro, if that’s the case.” 

The latter is the one to turn down this time. Tone brimmed with disappointment – something he can only ever learn from you – he says, “But you just bought us one last month, Papa! Mama always asks you to save money... why don’t you ever listen to her?” 

A knife of guilt lodges itself into his heart and twists. Satoru sighs. “I do... I try to, always, but you two make it so difficult for me to! Why are you like this? Is it so unfair to want to spend some time with her? She is as much my wife as much she’s your mom.” 

“We know,” The addressed two answer in unison with sage little nods of their head. The girl continues with a grave expression matching her brother’s, “But we can also ask you the same, Papa. She is as much our mom as she’s your wife. Is it so unfair to want to spend some time with her?”  

“Besides, you spent five extra years with her, before we were born. We just want to make up for the time lost,” Sachiro chimes in with a pout. “Tell us, Papa,” The two again speak in a heart-wrenching chorus, “Is it so unfair to want to spend some time with her?” 

“The kids are right, y’know?” A mumble pops the gravity of the situation at hand, and Satoru looks down to find you awake, cracking an amused smile at them. He huffs, rising from the floor and plopping on the bed next to you, arms folded against chest.

“Can’t believe I am so unloved and unwanted in this world. My kids don’t love me. They don’t listen to me. My wife too doesn’t love me. She never supports me. Welp, got to be the unluckiest to be in my shoes right now, I guess.” 

Your husband pauses, giving a small break for the words to sink into everyone, before you let out a long exhale and send him a minor twitch of your lips. Sachiko moves to pat his head, the same moment Sachiro reaches over to clasp his small arms around his neck. You too rise and embrace him from behind, placing a small kiss in between his shoulder blades.  

“Y’know, it’s not like that,” You say, placing your ear on his back, “Just ’cause the kids love me more doesn’t mean they don’t love you. And it’s not even your fault – my personality is so awesome, everyone can’t help but adore me the moment they see me – isn't that right, babies?” 

“Right, Mama,” A pair of wonderstruck voices ring out in reply to your jocular question – you continue in the same note, with another kiss, this time on the nape of his neck.

“And because your awesome Mama’s asking you now, will you two be good babies and let Papa too sleep here with us? Look at him: he’s so tired and sad. You don’t want your dearest Papa to be sad and tired, right? You will let him cuddle with us, won't you?” 

Satoru watches the twins look at each other for a second, then the younger acquiesce, “Papa can cuddle with us. That’s okay, maybe.” The two then proceed to shoot a particularly sharp look at him; one he responds to with a cheeky smirk, which disappears into a soft smile when he feels you manoeuvre his face towards yourself, a light grasp on his chin.  

“See, the kids agreed. Now, are you feeling loved and wanted?” 

“Infinitely more,” He replies with a peck on your lips – however, before he can deepen the kiss a tad more, you bring him into a sleeping posture beside you, the kids immediately piling on top of the two of you. You offer him something between a cute pout and a sorry smile, which earns a wink from your husband. 

Turning to one side, Satoru drags you, Sachiko lying on top of you and Sachiro lying in between him and you, into himself, letting him be lulled to sleep by the melody of your laughs and your kids’ half-hearted harrumphs.

  

Do you know what’s the best thing about life? 

Every tiniest bit of it he gets to spend beside you, the light of his life, and the two imps, your and his love brought into this world – even if he knows he’s going to get kicked out of bed the very microsecond you fall asleep again. 

▸ masterlist

[bluebugjay]

So when they're solving the Devlin murders and Charles says 'don't yell at her cause you're not the all knowing expert on everything' and then when Charles gets stuck in the loop and Edwin immediately admits 'he's right, I don't know everything' and then in the next scene Edwin says it took Charles years to learn how to use his backpack so he has no chance being able to use it, I think it proves Edwin doesn't actually think he knows everything. Sure he's stubborn and a control freak and he likes things done in a particular way but I don't think he really acts like a know-it-all.

And when you factor in that scene with Despair where he says he doesn't have his books as an answer for not knowing where he is/ who Despair is, it seems like knowing things, reading, writing things (everything) down is something he does to cope. He doesn't like lacking control or knowledge so he learn and he collects and he knows. He's the brains not the brawn, he can't defend himself or Charles physically but he can with his knowledge - we even see it with the museum ghost in episode one, when Charles is pinned to the ground by the ghost, Edwin doesn't rush to push him off or fight, he finds the spell book, casts the spell and saves Charles that way. And in the Devlin episode when he's explaining the loop and the stone tape theory, he berates Charles on not reading the books around the office but he doesn't show off that he himself has. I think it's more that to Edwin having knowledge is a shield, it's his protection and seeing Charles not have that same shield feels the same as how Charles feels trying to teach Edwin to throw a punch in the first episode. They're both just trying to protect the other in their own ways.

So I think Charles saying that, was maybe more of a reflection on how he seems himself, that Edwin is the clever one and he's just the one who acts impulsively and does 'stupid things' like he says when he possesses Esther. I think this is implied when he refers to 'your way' and 'my way', Edwin's way being the thought out way with theories and backed up by research and logic, and Charles' way being get straight to the source with no plan and use aggression. And obviously he's so much more than that, and Edwin believes this too but Charles was in such a vulnerable state it makes sense he'd let other insecurities of his slip too.

[pollyanna-nana]

Louie isn’t evil.

Or: what Pikmin 4 tells us about his character.

BIG WARNING FOR PIKMIN 4 SPOILERS! (and the rest of the series)

———

I want to preface this by saying that I am in no way trying to be the end-all, be-all of character interpretations, but Pikmin 4 to me, at least, confirms the suspicions I’ve had since playing Pikmin 2 and 3 all those years ago that Louie ISN’T secretly evil, or possessed, or whatever else. He’s just… Louie. And I think that’s interesting in and of itself.

1. Olimar himself vouches for him, and clearly doesn’t think he’s a bad person.

Say what you will, but I’m inclined to think Olimar is a decent judge of character. Clearly he’s worked with Louie for enough time to see that while he’s not very good at his job, he’s not intentionally so— at least not in a malevolent way (will get more into this later). He also wants you to forgive him for Olimar’s sake, which can be read as self-sacrificing (as Olimar is known to be) but I also think hints at the soft spot he has for Louie.

It's also worth noting that he states during a end-of-day conversation that he told Louie that, since he's a new employee, he should do everything Olimar does... including throw castaways into the onion. Interesting that Louie took this so literally, but it does provide an explanation for why he kidnapped the Koppaites beyond "he's evil and crazy".

2. He really, REALLY loves his grandma.

Like, wow. He talks about her SO MUCH both in his Piklopedia entries and also elsewhere in the game. It's interesting. Worth noting is that he never mentions any other family members- unlike Olimar, who talks about his wife and each of his children independently. I've said this before, but the content of a lot of these entries implies to me that Louie was mainly raised by his grandma, likely since birth. And given some of her emails in Pikmin 2, assuming they're also canon to Pikmin 4's timeline... Well, Louie certainly had an interesting upbringing. But he clearly loves her all the same.

3. He has a mischievous streak and tends to do things on impulse.

This was already fairly obvious from the previous games, but I think it's worth noting that this game confirms that he's... would immature be the right word? In any regard, he doesn't seem to see himself as a "grown-up"- when in all likelihood he is. Personally, as a 22-year-old, I find that pretty relatable as I often think of myself as younger when in reality I am by all definitions an adult. This, along with his grandma still being around, makes it pretty much certain that Louie is a lot younger than Olimar and the president, likely in his early to mid twenties. Being a bit of a goofball isn't really out of the ordinary, all things considered.

THAT BEING SAID, he's clearly capable of practicing self-restraint when he wants to. What he says here about the red Pikmin is pretty significant, since we know he's willing to eat just about anything- but clearly he has some reservations about creatures that are friendly and helpful. Which leads to...

4. He loves dogs and fluffy things.

Same. But he doesn't even consider eating Moss, Oatchi or the Ancient Sirehound, showing that his creature-eating habits stop at things he recognizes as useful. He clearly also holds affection for things that are soft and fuzzy, and says as much.

5. He is so autism.

He plays with fidget toys. He loves certain textures and sounds. This guy is stimming all over PNF-404!!! I think this also lends some explanation for why his behavior is what it is- things like taking Olimar's suggestion to do as he does super literally even after crashing on an alien planet, his hyperfixation on cooking and tendency not to communicate and incorrectly interpret situations (thinking the Koppaites are kidnappers in 3, running away from you in 4). He could even be low or no empathy as well, explaining why it takes a hot minute to get him to understand why people are upset with him about something.

Interestingly this game also makes it clear that Louie wants to live on the planet, or at least thought he did while you were chasing him down, which makes a lot of sense when you consider that he doesn't really seem to fit in back on Hocotate. I, too, wish to run away to an alien world with all of the things that I like and no other people, so I get you, Louie.

6. He hates his boss and his job, and the golden pikpik carrot incident was likely premeditated.

This probably looks bad, but honestly? As a fellow work-hating anti-capitalist schmuck I get it. The president is for all intents and purposes a huge asshole, from sending Olimar straight back to the planet after selling his ship to not caring that Louie got left behind, just wanting to find the rest of the treasures. I doubt he is very kind to his employees, and doesn't seem very good at running the business. Definitely a funny character, but if he were my boss I would absolutely want to punt him into the sun.

From some other entries he clearly wants to sell certain things to accrue money, but it's for things like getting better kitchen tools and following his dream to have his own cooking show. Clearly being a freight driver isn't what Louie actually wants to do with his life, and he could not give less of a shit about what happens to the company. Very short-sighted on his part, but also again, yeah I get you Louie.

7. He... doesn't like the color red for some reason.

Honestly, I'm not even really sure what to make of this. Is it because it reminds him of the Hocotate ship? Or does he just not like the color? Would be very interesting considering that it's Olimar's signature color. Perhaps that's at least part of why he attacks you in Pikmin 2- though that's speculation for another day.

Also funny to me is his comments on the black-colored treasures. We know blue is his favorite color, but I guess he's also a bit of a goth at heart. Lol.

In conclusion.

I think Louie isn't written or intended to be evil, and Pikmin 4's portrayal of him was intentionally written to confirm this. He's just, as some have said, an agent of chaos, but that doesn't make him a bad person. Just an autistic 20-something working a shitty job he doesn't care about, who loves his grandma and has a mischievous streak and a hyperfixation on food. At least from what I can interpret, ymmv!

[tetragonia]

In Sync

Rafe Cameron x F!Pogue!Reader

warning: 18+, smut, consensual sex, unprotected, foreplay, virgin reader (implied?), and yeah it's just all that. also no mention of (y/n)

words: 1k

note: this is a continuation from this fic where Rafe and reader were in an enemies-to-lovers situation, but you can read this fic separately since it's just them doing it for the first time after getting together

A Wave of Feelings (pt 1) | In Sync (pt 2)

You would laugh at yourself a month ago for the current situation.

You, a Pogue, slept with a Kook? And let alone the Rafe Cameron? The one who used to yell and throw remarks at you? The one who always got into a heated argument with you? 

You couldn’t even bear to be in the same room with him and look at yourself now.

Laying down beside him, making out for the first time since twenty minutes ago with the blond. You could feel Rafe’s strong arms, how big and sturdy it was. You could smell his cologne, a perfect mixture of earthy vetiver, refreshing citrus notes, and salty sea breeze. It evoked the rugged beauty of Rafe, how reckless and impulsive he’d be, but also passionate and vulnerable.

You trembled at his touch, as Rafe kissed you harder. Your hand naturally, slowly reaching down, tracing his lower abdomen and making him twitch under your touch. You could hear a soft grunt coming from his lips, his breath becoming heavier. Your hand slipped under his pants, stroking slowly. Rafe let out a soft groan in pleasure, his hand gently petting the swell of your breast.

You gasped at the sudden pleasure. Butterflies washed your belly and you whimpered at the sensation of it. Desire flooded both of you that night.

“Oh, you stroke better than myself, Princess,” he said with a huff, before moaning louder because you felt the urge to stroke harder and faster. “You’re so good, Princess. Don’t stop.”

Rafe breathed heavily, kissing you harder. He bit your lips, touching his forehead on yours. “Oh, fuck. You’re so good,” he shuddered. 

You stroke him hard and constantly, wiggling beside him. In between kisses, you couldn’t help but to moan as Rafe’s strong fingers brushed your nipple.

“I’m so close, Princess.”

It was not your first time together, but you always shuddered from the sensation. It felt warm on your hand, dripping to your wrist. You smiled when Rafe put half of his weight on her, panting. 

“You’re so good,” he whispered before pushing you gently to the bed. He now towered over you, fully stripped of his pants. His hands softly helped Val to undo her shirt, throwing it to the floor as they don’t need it anymore for now.

You started to breathe heavily as adrenaline took you. 

Slowly, Rafe got down, kissing your breast and closed his mouth around a nipple. His tongue swirled around yours, gently biting and sucking it. You gasped and shut your eyes tightly, fingers crawling Rafe’s bare shoulder.

“Rafe!”

You couldn’t help but cry his name. It was insane. He was insane.

“Yes, Princess?”

Rafe’s right hand traced your chest and belly and you shivered. He continued, finding a soft spot on your clit and rubbing it softly.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, unable to let out a full word. You tried so hard not to scream, biting your lower lip as he worked faster.

“Yeah? Do you like it?” Rafe asked, kissing your jaw and then your neck. He buried his face on the crook of your neck, moaning your name softly, “Gosh, you’re so wet, Princess.”

And it just flooded, you were down all over him. Bad.

“Good girl,” Rafe smiled, kissing your lips gently before he got up and spread your legs. He let you breath out first, letting out a whimper and a pleasure moan.

“You’re so beautiful,” he continued. He left you speechless.

You could see his handsome features from the dim light. Rafe exhaled, taking the view. You laid naked in front of him–under him. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he said in disbelief. “How did I miss this? How did I throw arguments when I could’ve just thrown myself at you?”

You chuckled, feeling the same. These past years, all you and Rafe exchanged were arguments and hatred. How you hated him so much, so much that you only thought of him. How you both eventually found each other in ways you couldn’t explain. How deep your connection actually was.

Rafe touched his cock, rubbing it slowly with his saliva. You gulped.

“It’s huge, Rafe,” you let out a shaky breath when Rafe put himself between your thighs. He started to caress yours with his fingers, before he brushed your fold with his tip softly. 

You moaned, “Rafe–”

“It’s going to hurt a little,” he said softly, as gentle as he could. “Tell me if you want to stop.”

Then Rafe pushed it gently, slowly letting himself relax inside her. The anticipation made you squirm and held the sheet tightly, suppressing another whimper.

“Rafe!” a moan slipped out of your mouth, screaming his name in pleasure and pain. “I have never taken anyone before.”

Your eyes were shut, back arching.

“Eyes on me, Princess.”

You tried to open your eyes, looking directly at him. Shivers went down your spine, it felt so good.

“Oh, you’re so tight,” Rafe let out a soft grunt as he started to hump his hips towards yours. His hands were everywhere, you were not surprised anymore.

Rafe can be rough, but this time he was very gentle.

“Yes,” you gasped. “Don’t stop. Please. Please.”

Rafe lowered his body, still humping. His mouth searched for your nipple, as he licked and swirled it softly. Rafe kept sucking, biting and leaving red marks on it. Chills ran down your spine when he humped faster.

“Yeah? Do you like it, baby?” Rafe asked you as you tried to take his hard cock.  You closed her eyes in pleasure, still unable to answer.

“Answer me, Princess.”

“Y–Yes, please,” you pleaded. He was so good. You clenched around his cock, and another groan slipped from him. He’d be surprised how your bones didn’t break with your back arching high like that.

“You’re so wet for me, Princess. You’re so good,” he kept reassuring you as your head spinned with pleasure and desire. You both moved in sync, as you could feel his cock twitched hard inside you.

“Oh, I’m going to come,” his voice was deep and breathless, as he spurted on the bare skin of your stomach. Rafe moaned, loud, losing breath. He jerked and it spread all over your tummy, some was on the sheet. It was intense and addicting.

“Oh, fuck. Orgasm never felt this good,” Rafe lost himself in pleasure, shutting his eyes before bending down and kissing your lips. “You’re such a good girl.”

You smiled. “I wish we’d be fucking instead of fighting all those times.”

[descendant-of-truth]

Honestly? So much of Sonic Prime happens the way it does because Sonic is unabashedly, wholeheartedly neurodivergent, and I wanna talk about that in detail for several reasons

I think most people assume he has ADHD, and while I agree, I think they tend to leave it at "he's hyperactive and impulsive" when there's actually a lot more going on there.

For example, he lacks a filter. He says exactly what he's thinking, all the time, regardless of who's listening. I wouldn't be surprised if he does it as a type of vocal stim, considering that he talks to himself as much as he does to other people. Maybe he dislikes the way silence feels on his ears, too?

Something I noticed was that when Thorn gets on his case for this, asking if he ever stops talking, the way he says "eh, not really" sounds... almost resigned?

He could have easily said it in a more jokey way, but his tone (and the wide camera shot) gives me the impression that this isn't a trait of his that he feels especially positive about.

It's not cool or funny to him, at least not in this instance; it's just something he does, which further proves to me that it's more of an unconscious stim than anything else.

On the topic of the jungle world though, it also shows us a couple instances of him not being able to read others' intentions very well. Prim lies to him about knowing what the Prism shard is, and Thorn uses him to get to said shard - and despite how hostile they are, he takes both of them at their word.

He only realizes Thorn's intentions after she hits him across the clearing - not for the first time that day, mind you - and Sonic berates himself a little for not seeing this coming.

But it's not like this is the only time he has difficulty understanding intent; just look at his interactions with Shadow.

This is not the behavior of someone who understands why Shadow's picking a fight with him. He doesn't understand the implications of "you literally shook the world" because he doesn't know about the Weirder aspects of the explosion. In his mind, he just messed up a mountain.

Though I think his attitude implies another thing about his dynamic with Shadow that might explain why he was so quick to dismiss what he was talking about, which is. I don't think Sonic usually understands why they fight??

Shadow is a person of few words and Sonic has a hard time picking up on subtleties, that's a recipe for miscommunication already. And if Sonic's already predisposed to thinking that Shadow fights him Just Because, then of course he didn't take this particular instance seriously.

Though going back to "he only registered the physical effect of the explosion," Sonic is actually pretty consistent with understanding things that are tangible a lot better than anything else. Case in point: that One Palm Tree

His first reaction to seeing it presented as a gift is that it must be a trick. because he doesn't see the tangible point of the tree, and isn't enough of a symbolism guy to see the sentimental point of it, either.

Don't get me wrong, he is being insensitive here, but I don't think it's on purpose in any way. Look at his body language and expressions:

Even as he's getting on their case for being too sentimental, he's not unhappy or uncomfortable with them. He's just completely failing to recognize that this was supposed to be a big deal for them, so he's treating it way more casually than is appropriate.

Which is like. a classic social flub for neurodivergent folks

(Quick side note - this specific "huh" that he makes as Tails is flying away before Sonic realizes he's upset is a whole mood. I don't know how to explain it but this is Exactly what it feels like when you can sorta tell something's not clicking but you don't know what yet)

(Look at him. brain static)

I could go on with the detailed explanations but some of that would just be me repeating past posts I've made, so I'll leave it at "he is clearly not handling change well either" and link back to an example.

So anyway, this is what I meant when I said that so much of the show is impacted by Sonic being neurodivergent. It affects how we hear his thoughts as viewers, it affects his ability to understand and connect with his friends, it's why he dismisses Shadow, it's why he impulsively smashes the Paradox Prism, the list goes on.

And he's not stupid because of any of these traits, either. None of what I've described has to do with intelligence, but I've seen "Sonic is too dumb" as a reason to criticize the show, and that's just not what's happening here.

If anything, I'm actually really impressed with how well the writers have managed to portray a more nuanced take on what a character with ADHD would look like. Because he's not just being hyperactive and chatty, you can tell it affects how he perceives things too.

Which is a much bigger part of the overall experience, and it's really cool to see in a cartoon like this - and in the lovable main character, to boot! Who cherishes his friends despite his struggles to understand them! Why is it so good!

In conclusion Sonic is the ADHD king we both needed and deserved, thanks for coming to my TED talk

[giuliettagaltieri]

Garden of Uncertainties

Pairing: Husband!Gojō x Wife!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: The day Gojō Satoru becomes a married man.

Warning: angst, arranged marriage, age gap, implied jujutsu society stigma

Word Count: 924

4 of 9

The day you marry Gojō Satoru was like any other day.

It was the definition of a Sunday morning, quiet, peaceful, and almost like a secret between the two of you.

One might imagine the day the strongest sorcerer would get married to be the grandest day every living man would ever see in their lifetime.

But it was quite the opposite. 

The number of guests who witnessed your marriage can be counted with just two hands.  The decorations were subdued, yet your eyes did not miss the diamonds that glittered your kanzashi.  A gift from the family you are to be wedded to.

You stand there next to Gojō, trying to be as still as you can.  You can hear every word the minister says and so is every song the birds sing outside the church, or every whistle of the breeze.

It was calm.

And the small smile on your husband to be’s lips added to the serenity the day has brought you.

You stood so close to him, but it barely felt close enough.  Almost cursing the distance between you.  You wonder if he felt the same.

Afterall, Gojō Satoru did not utter a single word to you the moment you stepped inside the doors of the church.  He stood waiting at the end of the aisle, offering a calming smile to ease your nerves, receiving your gloved hand as you reached him, but that was it.

Knowing Gojō all your life made you aware of how difficult he is to read at times.

And no matter how hard you want to believe that he is glad to stand there next to you to be wedded, no assurance from him means that you cannot let your guard down.

With that said, bile started to rise to your throat but you squeezed your eyes shut to calm your nerves.  

Nobody else can upset you better than yourself.

“Y/N.”  His soft whisper snapped you out of your thoughts.

You look up to him, your eyes wide in confusion, lips slightly parted, it makes his eyes linger on them for a moment.

“The uh…”  Gojō nearly snickers.  “The minister asked if you would take me as your lawfully wedded husband.”

Oh.

Oh!

“I do.”  You say quickly, turning to the already smiling minister.

Gojō playfully lets out a deep sigh of relief, making the witnesses behind you laugh at his antics.

The minister asks the same question to Gojō and he responds a split second later.  Your worries quell the tiniest bit.

More words were uttered by the minister and you get lost in your thoughts once more.

Gojō has a small smile playing on his lips as he listens.  His eyes stealing quick glances at the dazed look on your face.

As he expects, you don’t hear the declaration of the minister, flinching at the loud applause behind you as confusion fills your eyes once more.

And in a quick impulse, Gojō Satoru swoops in to capture your lips on his.

His hooded eyes met yours just before you melted against him, your eyes fluttering to a close.  And the cheers get louder. 

Warmth fills your chest, almost overpowering the doubts.

Almost.

Gojō ends the kiss with his eyes shrouded with a look that once again summoned the uncertainties to your chest.

But he gives you the smallest smile of assurance. 

“Calm yourself, my love.”  He whispers as he caresses your cheek.  And then he has your hand in his and a grin finds itself on his lips as he faces the small crowd.

You did as he told you and you smiled too. 

It is your wedding day. 

You have no business feeling miserable.

The banquet that followed was livelier.

Guests from the other clans and your husband’s acquaintances are all present.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling at people all afternoon.

There were speeches from elders.  Some with lessons you will cherish forever, some with warnings hidden behind fragrant words. 

Naoya Zen’in, now tipsy, kept coming back to your table, saying over and over that he could have sworn he had been married to you before.  Until Gojō led him away.  You blanch after having caught the end of their conversation, mostly gruesome threats from your husband.

The sun was almost setting in the distance and you cannot quite come to a conclusion of how exactly you are feeling.

As you sit next to your newly wedded husband in his car, you nibble on your lips as you watch the pavement blankly.

“Have you come to regret your decision to meet me at the altar?”  His voice was playful but even so probing.

You let out a small exhale and mustered a smile as you faced him.

“No, of course not.”  You laugh lightly and Gojō returns your smile but the two of you face the road a second later.  Your smiles are gone.

The bliss brought on by the wedding was slowly fading, it seems.

You wanted to talk more with him.  To know him better.  But it felt wrong to break the silence.

Apparently, Gojō felt the same way as he no longer spoke, but instead, he put his hand atop your thigh and squeezed gently.  A show of affection, destroying any physical boundaries you previously had, solidifying the fact that you are now married and everything is about to change between you.

In response, you place a hand over his, telling him that you are willing to take the first steps with him into this voyage you embarked on.

Where the Blue Roses Grow

[throwaway-yandere]

His Version Of You [Yan!Kaveh & Yan!Veritas Ratio/Reader]

a/n: tis another solid “twas a crack idea but I made it too serious” fic. kavetham rivalry is overrated af, KaTio is the way to go /j. when you finish it, can you answer the poll at the bottom on who you would pick between these two? bless you.

unreliable synopsis: When one grieves, sometimes it is best not to be reminded of who you're grieving for. Especially not by fighting over a recreation of their heart and soul. [based on @2broschlininahotub & @meimeimeirin's request]

content warnings/tags: [light yandere vs yandere]/[implied poly!yandere/reader] fic, geniuses who can't take a W, au shenanigans, the girlies love to bicker it’s their love native language

"What were you thinking, you idiot?! Thank my reflexes that I caught the statue beforehand or else I would have to explain what a monumental mistake that is. Just use your common sense for once, will you?!"

"Please— I don't want to hear that from YOU of all people! This is MY stone. Stop acting like you actually care. You took us away from my world! You're the one who's too obsessed with researching it! It's like a damn test subject and not a companion to you!"

"That's because it is, you fucking oaf!"

"YOU'RE THE ONE GIVING ME FALSE HOPE THAT IT'S A LIVING BEING!!!"

Veritas stood with his arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched and his frown the deepest Kaveh had ever seen. The architect, absolutely baffled at his experiment partner's harsh evaluation, felt his eyes dampening. His bumping of the sculpture was pure accident, but Veritas' sharp tongue cut deep into Kaveh's pride. Even the most understanding of men would find his tone abrasive.

Getting riled up…Over a damn statue.

"Just because it's alive, doesn't mean it's a companion. And just because it is a test subject, doesn't mean you can just near-topple it as you damn please."

The arguments subsided. They exchanged long looks as they tried to figure out how the "little dispute" had come dangerously close to abusive. With his anger gradually fading, Kaveh was the one to take the first initiative. Kaveh steeled himself. The architect's shoulders dropped, and his expression softened. Jaded.

"Veritas... I'm sorry. As much as this statue… means… to me, I shouldn't have yelled at you. I-I was just upset, you're aware that I've been working all afternoon polishing the statue and I took that anger out on you. I'm sorry." Kaveh said.

"Right." Veritas closed his eyes. "Apology accepted. I understand that you're visibly distressed, but I will not tolerate low-quality work."

As Kaveh was about to get defensive, Veritas placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Which is to say, take a rest, Kaveh. Work when you can guarantee peak performance." Veritas sighed. "Rest. Pompom has already prepared your bed for you."

Kaveh cast his gaze down on the floor, wearing a feeble smile. Though their list of grievances from the past days was enough to fill two pages, Veritas is steeped in cunning. He knew exactly how to plaster Kaveh's impulse.

"Right… I'm just tired."

"Precisely. The faster the progress, the greater the chance of errors." Veritas smiled back, although looking less sincere as Kaveh's. "Take a rest, Kaveh."

With a murmur, Kaveh got up and dusted off his pants from the metamorphic rock that had been sandpapered. People aren't made to stay cooped up inside all the time. He took one last look at the project before heading out for the night, noting that while the foundation was in place, work still needed to be done before they could decide on the final look. If he could just make the hands softer-looking…

"Kaveh…" Veritas chimed, warning with his arms crossed.

"Right, right!" Kaveh laughed nervously, still slightly vexed by the reproach. "Maybe I'm getting too brave at night, I don't know why I'm boldly thinking of trying my hand at smoothening the statue again."

"I'd consider you more weak-hearted than stouthearted," Veritas dusted Kaveh's shoulders off. "And do try to keep yourself clean."

"I'm too tired to run a shower…"

Veritas sighed loudly.

The both of them had decided to leave the studio with a degree of finality. Hunched over, the kidnapped architect left to take his well-deserved slumber while the doctor decided that a warm bath would benefit him more. The night "concludes", or so Kaveh thought.

Looking back, these two are the most unlikely friends to exist, are they not? A professor slash doctor of the Intelligentsia Guild and the architect "Light of the Kshahwerar" collaborating over a glorified arts and crafts project. To truly understand this bizarreness, it is wise to look back to its beginning.

In his quest to rid the galaxy of a disease he dubbed "ignorance", Dr. Veritas Ratio sallied forth to practice his preachings. Even joined the Astral Express at some point, but it was only in this instance did he found companionship with an extremely empathetic individual. 

And their first meeting was not a decent starting point.

Veritas set out on his umpteenth assignment handed out by the Express. He was sent to explore the dangerous land formations of Sumeru with the trailblazer. Every extended curve revealed pyramids and sand, and Veritas kept Stelle close by using her straps as a leash. Nevertheless, when they accidentally entered an unstable domain, his disgruntled complaints ceased. Deciding it would be best for only one to investigate further, Veritas volunteered.

There was just one discernible light path inside the mostly collapsing structure. Yet, every step he took was curiously inaudible, and when he reached the Apex, he met the sight of blonde hair. 

Enter: Kaveh.

"You get what I mean right? It feels like my problems just keep piling up and up, like an impossible mountain. There's never anyone who would listen to me complain, but you…" The words that fell from the stranger's lips were sweeter than honey as he waxed poetic. "You're always here to listen. And it makes me feel so much less alone. Thank you…"

The blonde man had his cheek against a large rectangular rock, caressing it appreciatingly. His eyelids were lowered and his cheeks were puffy. Whether he cried beforehand or was merely exhausted cannot be assessed from Veritas' distance from him.

February 5, ████.

Kaveh had recently lost his lover that day. They died due to an unforeseen heart attack, which pains him more since his darling had always been healthy. Since his "delam" has passed away, he has been inconsolable. He refused to part with any possessions they left. No matter how many of their fellow archeologists begged for (Y/n)'s notes, he barked with gritted teeth that his mind would not change.

… How ironic that he used to call his lover "my heart" when the very same organ was the cause of death.

Neither wine nor friends can get a reaction out of him. The best he could do to continue living was to focus on his work and his young mentees. (Y/n) always wanted to be a teacher but couldn't because of their daytime job, so Kaveh fulfilled their dreams instead.

That includes continuing their research on the strange rock they had found in the desert.

Kaveh remained hotly bent on preserving everything they loved. Despite its unconventional and jagged appearance, the rock struck him as the most beautiful thing he had seen in a long while. Its lack of clear patterns didn't matter; it stood tall, capturing his fascination. It had ended his slump and had become an integral part of him. This hyperfixation had not gone unnoticed by Lesser Lord Kusanali, but when she visited him, she… strangely endorsed of his newfound lunacy. She knew something he did not.

Something about the rock… felt so similar to his deceased "delam".

The doctor, lacking any context for the sight before him, raised an eyebrow. His duty may be to educate others, but this was beyond help. A pell-mell of incoherent ramblings filled the room with the hither and thither of blonde hair to match. But this was the first person he encountered in Teyvat. And he was determined to get any info out of him.

"Excuse me."

The blonde man blinked repeatedly, eyes going wide at the sight of Veritas approaching.

"I'm Dr. Veri—"

"T-This isn't what it looks like!!!" The blonde freaked out. "This is– It's just! This rock, it has sentimental value and–"

"…" Veritas drawled. "Riiiight. I'm… Dr. Veritas Ratio. I'm not of this world— I believe my companions and I are what you refer to as Descenders. We wish to collect petrology info for databank purposes. May you offer assistance?"

Kaveh did not know what to say. But by instincts, he knew something was not entirely right with this man. 

He'd be right. Veritas wasn't there specifically for rocks. He's just, crudely put, nosy.

"And I am supposed to blindly believe any stranger who wears such a strange getup?" Kaveh stood up and protectively hid the rock behind him. "Sorry, I kindly refuse. And I am not equipped to help either."

Veritas smirked and cracked some knuckles with his left thumb.

There was a damn good reason why Stelle was left behind. On the entrance of the gate laid an inscription that roughly translates to the words "adepti" and "tribute". His intellect in this linguistics may be rusty, but it is not incorrect.

He had an inkling that the rock this peculiar blonde was obsessing over was imbued with a sliver of ambuscade soul who took arms against the worst opponents imaginable.

A "yaksha", if you were a Liyue local.

Veritas was by no means unmindful of Kaveh's obsession. He held his tongue, assessing that to set a quarrel with an unpredictable variable would prolong his journey. There was no profit to be had in angering an unreadable man. 

"Well then, if I can't take that rock within reason…"

Dr. Ratio opened his book.

…

…

…

"… Long story short, that's why this chick is all wrapped up like a present."

Through brute force, both Stelle and Veritas managed to drop both Kaveh and the rock inside the Express, to the surprise of many. They were initially sent to only survey Teyvat (which meant Veritas positively lied to Kaveh earlier). No one expected an angry Sumeru man to "visit." 

"I-I am not a chick! I am a man! I'm Kaveh— an architect!!!" The self-proclaimed man wriggled around the trailblazer's yellow ropes, looking pale as he stared at the unfamiliar faces and scenery before him. "H-Hey!!! Unhand me at once!!!"

"Oh, you're not a girl? You're pretty, though."

"I should've known you would bring something peculiar on board, Dr. Ratio, I just didn't expect it to be a weird human-sized rock..." Said the red-haired lady. "But anyways, you, Sir Kaveh, have quite a remarkable sense of fashion."

"I haven't seen any guy wear earrings that big before…" The grey-haired girl said with grabby hands.

"Please don't try to yank it off him," the brown-haired man sighed and pulled her back with his cane.

Kaveh was a little taken aback by the diversity of tongues in front of him. It was clear based on their accents that they didn't quite come from the same world, yet they communicate as near-family. 

"Do all Teyvat people have rocks for friends or is it just you?" A strawberry-haired young lady asked as she approached the rock, which set Kaveh in an even more panicked frenzy when she attempted to poke it.

"N-NO!!! DON'T!!!" 

March flinched at his sudden scream and nearly fell had Stelle not caught her.

"Yeah, March, be respectful, you never know if that's the love of his life or something like that," said Stelle.

Kaveh's eyes widened. "You… How did you just understand me better than my friends…?"

The room went quiet. Dan Heng glanced at Veritas, who pretended not to notice him. Mentioning romance near him had always been a dangerous move. Veritas' face crumpled slightly. 

There were scars in his own heart he had yet to patch up, and he needed no reminder that he was procrastinating.

Dan Heng cleared his throat.

"It's bad news to have Stelle be the only one who "gets you" if you consider yourself of sane mind." Dan Heng spoke. "But then again, you remind me of Argenti…"

"Where did you find this man, Doctor?" Welt digressed, concerned as he towered above the tied Kaveh. The older man doesn't have objections to his (kidnapped) presence. He can tell by the look on both Kaveh and Veritas' faces that neither was a man with no substance, and the latter saw to exploit the former.

Veritas only shrugged and jabbed his thumb in Stelle's general direction. "Assistant…"

"On it." Stelle saluted solemnly. "We found him in a pyramid. The doctor thought he would be a worthy individual to study if we wish to understand the culture behind one of the seven nations. Since Mister Yang told us to befriend important people–"

"Since when was kidnapping synonymous with befriending?"

"–this is Ratio's candidate."

"That is correct, and he's not just any other person. I have seen him in the Guild's Persons of Interest. He is Kaveh, the light of the Kshahrewar," Veritas claimed. "A certified scholar of the Akademiya and the face for the Darshan he was an alumnus of."

The Express quietly signaled shock over Ratio's interest in the man. 

Kaveh slunk back, defeated. When there's little progress, a man naturally turns restive. Kaveh no longer had much to fear in his life. The worst had already come to pass, and the world became mere static noise. He had no hope of escaping soon, not when he saw his homeworld's true "sky". Or at least, back then, he thought it was one. The world he knew was a mere tapestry of ████…

…

"Not that there aren't enough rooms in the Express, but why bring him and the rock here?" Himeko paused to take a sip of her piping hot coffee. "Isn't it a bit, I don't know, overkill?"

"It's because that pyramid is no place to cultivate a living species, and there's no better–... lab assistant... than this man before us." Dr. Ratio looked at the man on the floor. 

Dan Heng tried not to comment on how sad his tone was when Veritas referred to Kaveh as a "lab assistant". He knew what had happened to Ratio, but it was not the right time or place. 

"What do you mean by living?" Himeko asked.

"That rock has adeptal power within it that we can awaken. That is, if he'd help us make his little rock come to life."

With his words, he moved the unweariable Kaveh to act complacent.

Kaveh felt as though the floor caved beneath him. An unholy mixture of disbelief, awe, and joy swirled within his already jetlagged mind. The fact of the matter was, despite being incredibly unstable, he was lucid enough to know that a miracle was possible. 

"What…?"

"It's been a month since that whole debacle," Veritas muttered to himself as he flicked the wrist that held his book away from the bathtub's bubbly waters. "I suppose I was harsh to the poor man. But is that treatment not at all deserved?"

Over time, Veritas grew to like Kaveh, especially after knowing he was tutoring young aspiring architects free of charge. Still, Kaveh's strangely compliant behavior does not deviate from his first impression. His empty eyes were enough sign that Kaveh lived through emotionally draining struggles and came out with few real friends. He lost his raison d'etre, that's why he willingly threw his life in Teyvat away.

… In Kaveh's words, he only wished for a "vacation". If his prize was to go elsewhither with a satisfying result, then he's not opposed to (getting kidnapped) a new "collaboration".

The doctor can't say no to it either.

Deep down, prodigy genius Veritas couldn't deny the harsh truth: witnessing that pitiful man finding solace in an inanimate object was a stark reminder that he harbored the same "illness".

Hence, Veritas offered consistent "insults" to the brightest of Kshashrewar, and each time, Kaveh took the opportunity to improve. Veritas considered it a necessary evil. But even after surpassing those challenges, Kaveh was helpless to overcome the deep emptiness that persisted in his soul.

Kaveh never really spoke about who his previous lover was. All everyone knew was that he lovingly called them "delam"– his heart. They didn't want to bring him more pain by even asking a simple question like delam's real name.

A huge mistake later on.

"... Tch," Veritas grunted, his eyebrows furrowing sadly. The thought of his last love affairs had soured his mood.

Veritas stood from his bath, drying himself and wrapping a towel on his lower half.

… He likely won't sleep tonight.

Forgetting his agreement to continue the project tomorrow morning, he unlocked the door to the studio room Himeko lent them. He left trails of his wet footsteps. His wavy hair also remained damp, but he could not care much for it. Veritas will dress himself up later. Just a towel will suffice for now.

"Sculpting…"

Veritas laughed to himself as he took some tools off the table.

"Wasn't this your pastime and not mine—" he closed his eyes, muttering the next words with a teasingly melancholic tilt. "Assistant (L/n)?"

His grip on the chisel tightened, painting his knuckles white.

Professor (Y/n) (L/n).

The person responsible for the Council of Mundanites' existence. Their name rarely escapes his lips, treating their memory like a curse. Just exhaling the thought of them out of his system makes him nauseous. As if the air inside him gets knocked out. His eyes would flutter shut, no different from a dying man who held weakly holds on. Veritas hated this anguish. The doctor hated this vicious seemingly never-ending cycle called "grief".

"(Y/n)…" Ratio muttered. "Your face is still etched in my mind. What more do I need to eradicate these… unnecessary burdens?"

He could practically hear them laugh beside him.

Haha, please. You think about me so much that you consider me burdensome? Oh, you dork! If you loved me so much, you should've written a love letter.

"You absolute ignoramus," Veritas laughed softly. "You cannot discredit my efforts, though, can you?"

"My dearest…" He breathed out in pain once more. "My most wonderful partner. The best teaching assistant I ever had. You…"

… Never loved him back.

Dr. Veritas Ratio was no idiot. He despised any form of delusion. Throughout his life, he had been a tyrannical figure who pursued truth and not stagnant idolatry for every "patient". But when an immovable force meets an unstoppable object, would you consider him a tamed emperor?

Professor (L/n) was the first person he met who brazenly called themselves a "mundanite". A true mediocre. And they were beautiful at their very core.

Not free of sin, but free of hubris.

Molded as a genius since birth, the very foundations of (L/n)'s philosophies dismantled Ratio. (L/n) admired geniuses like Herta, but never romanticized the notion of natural-born wits. They always strived to eradicate their own "ignorance". But even when they are more knowledgeable than they let on, (L/n) never boasts. This behavior provides no benefit in an academically competitive field. Nothing confused the irrefutable prodigy like their longtime academic partner.

Geniuses— Masters— when I achieve great things, I don't want to have silly titles before my name. It's so… rigid, don't you think so, Veritas?

I wouldn't know.

Ha! Of course, you wouldn't. You've lived your entire life as one. But level with me for a second. Wouldn't life be less boring if…

He raised the chisel.

… we never stopped considering ourselves as mere beginners? Isn't there more joy to being a mundane with untapped potential than a stiff jack of all trades? C'mon, Veritas. Doesn't the idea that there's always more to explore make this vast world seem less dull?

Veritas bit his lip. Tears were threatening to spill.

February 5, ████.

It was Dr. Veritas Ratio's fault that they died that day. He thought (L/n) was capable of handling an extremely dangerous laboratory mishap. They were not. Despite his assistant's years of experience, every man is an unsuspecting fledgling in the face of death. It does not discriminate between the mediocre and the brightest.

That's absurd, (L/n). What is the point of learning if not for its mastery?

"Assistant… Let me offer this final tribute so that you can finally s-stop… haunting… me."

But they will never stop. Their last long exchange repeated in his head throughout the night. No matter how many times he hammered, the clanging sound did not drown out the voices in his head. The words mocked him, over and over, and over.

I'm sorry Veritas…

Why are you apologizing?

… I'm afraid I just don't see you that way. I'm just an ordinary person, and I doubt I could ever genuinely return the love of someone as brilliant as you. I'm afraid your affection might be akin to caring for a pet, and I can't find it in myself to figure out how to respond in kind.

… That's not true. You cannot simply decline my confession with a lukewarm excuse—

I'm afraid I'm just an ordinary college professor with no PhDs. I will have to reject your love. I'm so sorry.

But why?!

"(Y/n)… The one person I can never grasp…" Veritas muttered as he looked at the finished piece. "Here you are... Created by my own hands..."

Beautiful. Not a single doubt that it was carved in their likeness. The (Y/n) he knew was a professor who loved their teaching job, but wished they were more of an adventurer. Secretly, (Y/n) wanted to be an archeologist, and perhaps that's one of the reasons why Veritas let the mysterious rock formation inside the Express. Maybe if they continued living, they would've liked this gesture.

Ha… As if.

Veritas—

W-What aspect must I improve on? To dismiss me so impatiently— do I lack the charm? I can always learn to suit your tastes. Don't tell such a bold lie. I highly doubt that it is due to my academic performance. There's another man you've wasted your affections on, is there?!

Veritas, please…

Enough! Enough with these lies and tell me! J-Just… Just tell me, (Y/n)!

He's tired. Veritas just wanted to hold them again. He just wanted to "fix" their hair- tucking his golden hairpin to subconsciously teach their associates and students that Professor (L/n) was his. He missed the way he would hide (L/n)'s lab coat just so he could make them wear his as he left for the day. He missed secretly leaving small love confessions on their class grade spreadsheets, add/drop forms, and even their private online journals so he would read messages about how they must've caught a computer virus. He missed teasing them when they hadn't got a clue that he was unserious. He missed hearing (L/n) whine. He missed the way it made him warm.

He missed the warmth.

"Stop..."

He missed you.

"Stop this..."

And he continues to miss his (Y/n) so much.

"Please..."

It's unbearable.

There is no one else.

Yes, there is! I refuse to believe it! It's your recent lab partner, isn't it!? The man everyone has fallen for— you have taken a liking to him more than me, the person who has been with you all this time!!! You… You ungrateful!—

Veritas is so, so tired and more chipped than the rock he had worked on… Unlike the statue, he cannot tangibly pick up the pieces (L/n) that broke him in. There's only a hollow void of what could've been.

Why... Why did they have to reject him? If they hadn't rejected him, he wouldn't have coldly assigned (Y/n) to deal with the containment breach alone. He would've thought it through. He would've realized he was plagued with ignorance. He would've changed so many things that February 5th.

But that's all there was to it. Just "would have"s, not "have done"s.

Ngh–?! Why… did you... slap me…?

Veritas, maybe you should stop and look down and listen to us common-minded folks for once in your life! The simple fact is that you're just so out of reach. How can you love me, when you don't even understand me, Genius Ratio? How can you confess when you don't know what it's like to work for the knowledge you have? How can you love a "mundanite" like me?

… (Y/n)… T-That's simply untrue, and you are aware of that...

It's morning, an appropriate time to head back to his guest room.

When he was certain that he was alone, Veritas finally allowed himself to cry.

"There's no mistake that we both are- were idiots. We both failed to see that I'm a mundanite, just like you."

In contrast to his former roommate, Kaveh is an early riser. Not exactly a morning person, but a man of discipline nonetheless. Perhaps the concluded argument last night made his rise more motivating. He had no qualms with getting out of bed, heading straight to take a shower before drinking coffee with Himeko.

The morning was wordless but calm.

Whatever happened after he reentered the studio, however, was the exact opposite.

"Delam…?" Kaveh knelt with both knees down on the floor, shocked.

"Is that you…? Delam… Delam!!!"

You tilted your head.

Delam. That was the first word you've heard upon your birth or "rebirth", depending on whose narrative was at play. You first rose from your slumber much like an earth's crust would give way to a volcano. Warmth seeped from your chest and then throughout your body, filling you with life and newfound nerves. But no one was around. You had been observing the fading trail of wet footsteps, yet lacked the courage to leave the room.

Veritas was right. The rock does have life. And you have been awakened.

You looked human. You move human.

But you do not sound human.

"Delam! I-I can't believe this!"

For words fail.

「… Who are you?」

After all, since when can statues speak?

With unsteady legs, he attempted to approach your nearly nude figure. The sheet they used to keep out dust was the only cover you had. He pulled you in when he got close enough, and you wanted to squeak when he rested his nose on your shoulder. His breath tickled hot. However, his warm tears helped you to accept the melancholic reality.

"Delam! D-Delam, my sweetheart, my (Y-(Y/n)… A-Ah… Ah…"

Kaveh pulled back only to kiss your forehead. He was warm. You are not. Despite the fabrics he wore, you can feel his heat against your "skin". His heart was beating. Such an organ does not exist inside of you.

"(Y/n), my (Y/n)…" He gasped out between peppered kisses on your neck. "Mine… My heart has returned to me. Can you hear it too? It's beating again… It beats… I never thought I'd hear my heart again since you've been gone…"

His words made little sense to you, but you knew he liked your form. Kaveh's fingers traced around you, loving each inch, whether it was curved flesh or bone-like sharpness— he didn't care for he knew it was his (Y/n) (L/n).

He's so colorful. Reds, yellows, oranges, and even hints of blues and greens. It made you silently conscious about how you were a boring dull gray.

Warm, like the sun.

「… Baobei?」

"My (Y/n)… D-Delam…" Kaveh pressed his forehead against yours, your lips nearly touching.

You wiped his tears away.

Was that your name? (Y/n)…?

"Kaveh, what the hell are you doing?!"

The blonde man momentarily stopped cradling you out of shock.

This new man was all purples, blue, gold, and small taints of cyan and red. The expression he wore made you believe he might be covetous beyond mankind. There's a level of gluttonous greed in his anger that makes even the earth like yourself phased.

「… Who is he…?」

Both of them feel familiar to you, but you do not know why.

"Veritas!" Kaveh's eyes widened. "A miracle just happened— delam— they're—!"

"Put (Y/n) down this instant!!!"

Kaveh blinked.

"What… What did you say?"

"I said put them down, damn it! Who the hell are you, touching them so carelessly like they're yours?!"

Kaveh's eyebrows furrowed.

"How do you know that name?!" Kaveh yelled. "How did you know who (Y/n) is!?"

The doctor was equally confused.

Why would the ignorance-prone Kaveh know the name of his deceased love too?

Veritas has not talked about his old assistant to any breathing being for a long time. Talking felt like admitting that they were gone for good. But in this case, it produces a contrary result.

"Why the fuck wouldn't I?!"

"I don't know— maybe because you're not from Teyvat?!"

"What are you on, you imbecile?! Can you stop defiling them with your filthy hands?!" Veritas scowled and summoned his book. "Hands. Off."

The warning only made Kaveh even more possessive. He gently pushed you behind his back, glaring at him.

"No."

"Kaveh, you pestilence ridden—!!!"

"No, not until you tell me why the hell you know the name of my fiance!"

Veritas' heart sank.

… Fiance?

No… No, no way.

What's happening? How would that make sense?!

(Y/n) is his. Why should you belong to Kaveh?

"Are… are you insane?!" Veritas screamed. "I should've—"

"What?! Threw me off the Express?! I dare you!!!" Kaveh glared. "You knew you couldn't win against me alone, that's why your best bet was to knock me out— and you know it."

"Ngh."

Neither of them realized the greater reason as to why they knew the "same" person. The doctor may have jumped through various universes, but he had not done enough to notice a key factor.

There they were, claiming to love the image behind their animated statue— when they didn't know what it was they cried for.

"Just answer the question: who is (Y/n) to you?" Kaveh grumbled.

Somehow, he was far more frightening when his voice was calm and low. 

The usually diplomatic architect materialized his weapon out of thin air.

"Go on. Tell me."

The doctor stiffened. There was no way Veritas was losing this argument. 

It's unethical. Wholly unethical to appeal to pathos in this manner. To weave tales for his benefit.

But the end justifies the means.

Veritas flashed you a guilt-ridden expression…

Before he said the biggest lie known only to himself.

"Professor (Y/n) (L/n) is MY dead lover, and I molded the statue based on their appearance last night!" Veritas yanked a fistful of Kaveh's shirt and brought him closer. "So why are you claiming them as YOURS?!"

…

…

The sound of a cane hitting the floor stopped all hell from possibly breaking loose.

Welt Yang had one foot inside the room and one out the door. He wore a knowing and empathetic look. The others were behind him, looking particularly shaken up.

This screaming match was the worst the two ever had.

"Kaveh, Dr. Ratio, enough." He calmly spoke up. "I think I understand the confusion."

"Allow me to explain…"

"I'm surprised you have no comments on their flower-bespangled clothes, yet…" 

"The aesthetic is... tasteful. I like the headdress." 

"Of course, you like the crown of laurel…" 

"However–"

"Oh Lord Kusanali, here we go…"

Upon Welt's intervention, every piece started to fit together. The explanation was a frustratingly simple but difficult truth. (Y/n) (L/n) was not just one entity in the vast universe— there are inevitable variations.

The two eventually calmed down as they heard both sides. Veritas' (Y/n), who Kaveh later refers to as an "expy" as a placeholder name, was a professor— while Kaveh's "delam" was an archeologist. Almost the same, but not a complete copy-paste.

You, however, they are unsure of. No one knows yet if you do carry (Y/n)'s soul or if you're a mere replica. Veritas is working on the hypothesis that you were an adeptal tool who aided in freeing the vigilant yaksha from a malevolent Sumeru God.

But those bits of info doesn't matter in the end. Why?

Because they both love "you" deeply.

And these intelligent men can "learn" how to share.

"Are you not tired? Perhaps it is time I take over. Only a fool would work when completely drained." Dr. Ratio then added. "Does it not fall in my skilled hands to weave such clothing for them now? Even better than mere fabric, I'm willing to handle clay and mold it around their bo—"

"Considering how many fools can also calculate and perhaps wear an asbestos mask as a quirky character trait, it is surprising that the fool in front of me thinks he can show proficiency over a tedious task." Kaveh raised an eyebrow, seething at the thought of Veritas' unfair perverted touch lingering on your body, again.

"I think you are experiencing what is known as the Dunning-Kruger effect, as Mister Yang calls it." He added.

Veritas scoffed.

They may be revered both as geniuses in their fields, but they're reduced to kindergarten-like rivals when it comes to you. Their first order of business after another truce was to provide your clothes. Fortunately, Stelle's fashion sense was more unisex than anticipated so you borrowed hers in the meantime.

While you sat on the sofa with the bubbly March 7th, the two started planning your wardrobe. Kaveh returned later on the same evening with the most… floral clothes much to Veritas' dismay.

He missed seeing his version of (Y/n) who wore classic academic styles, not— whatever this was.

"It is mere confidence; no other variable is at play. The fool in question is the artisan responsible for the expeditious sculpting of the aforementioned statue within a singular nocturnal interval. A fact that eludes your appreciation, my less-than-appreciative and unskilled interlocutor."

Kaveh momentarily had the face of a man unpracticed in speech. People often forget that he majored in STEM, not HUMSS. Though he had some essay-based minors in his first & second years, he lacked preparation for Veritas' otherworldly vocabulary. Kaveh would whet his greatsword if Veritas said something bluntly deprecating.

Still, he can't deny that it was through Veritas' handiwork that made your hands as soft as Kaveh wanted them to be. And that secretly pisses him off.

You tilted your head.

Somehow, your creators are arguing again. 

"Are you threatening to rob me of the joys I have toiled nights for just to sate your shortlived desires, Veritas?" Kaveh rebuked him sternly. "I didn't know you were kind of a brat."

"I am only offering a hand. But it's clear that you are projecting onto me."

「You two–. 」

You tried to cut in, but can't utter a word…

"I'm not projecting! I know that once you prove you can make clothes, you'll kick me out of the Express, that's just the kind of man you are! Manipulative, arrogant—"

"And you're insecure. There is no more loathsome creature than a man who does not acknowledge his own hubris and repeats his mistakes."

「Master Veritas, Master Kaveh—. 」

You loathed to watch them fight for another round of meaningless squabbles. Why weren't you blessed with speech?

"Is that so? Do you seriously subscribe to that belief?"

"Why, of course."

"You should listen to better men than yourself, then."

"Oh c'mon, knock it off!!!" March cut in, giving them both a light smack with Veritas' book. "Can't you get along better? Your little darling looks upset!!!"

The two halted. She was right, you weren't comfortable. Veritas cleared his throat awkwardly while Kaveh looked down, both apologetic.

"See, Kaveh? Your persistence caused this."

"How is it MY fault?"

"I'm merely stating that the lack of options is bound to make them uneasy." Veritas deadpanned and handed you an IPC magazine he had been trying to get you to browse. "Why don't you pick to your liking? Don't worry about expenses. I have it covered."

"What?! Do you want them to wear those un-stylish clothes? Please, you just want to have them wear your brand!"

"Don't project your carnal possessiveness as my own." Veritas scoffed. But Kaveh was right. He missed seeing his (Y/n) wear his lab coat.

"Oh really?! Fine then! Let's ask (Y/n) what they really think!"

March sighed. "Guys, I think you're forgetting that you're fighting over clothes—"

But they didn't hear her. Nothing else mattered to those two except you. And you alone.

Their partner.

Their heart.

Their reason for living.

Hence, they yelled in unison.

"Who do you prefer, assistant? Him or me?!"

"Who do you prefer, delam? Him or me?!"

Taglist: @vennnnn-diagram, @meimeimeirin, @korianne, @prophecy-harmony, @shellofthewell, @sagekun,

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Delayed

AN: I have been wanting to write about this hair since Super, and now I finally have the motivation and time. Super Jeonghan, you will always be famous to me. The Jeonghan brainworms are very severe right now.

Synopsis: Tonight is arguably one of the important dinners in the kingdom's history. It could make or break relations with the Wen family. Your husband, however, is much more interested in dragging you to bed than building political alliances at the moment.

General tags and warnings: Yoon Jeonghan x Fem! Reader, established relationship, implied arranged marriage, hinted at former enemies to lovers, extremely vague historical AU, royalty AU and there is zero plot here.

Smut tags and warnings: dirty talk, fingering (f. receiving), Reader gets edged once, petnames, having children gets brought up once and it's mostly a joke, nipple and breast play (f. receiving), handjob (m. receiving), piv sex without a condom and creampie.

Word count: 2.5k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

“Your brother is going to lecture our ears off if we're late,” you remind Jeonghan, trying your best not to lose yourself in the way his hands drag along your sides and the way he breathes in your freshly washed hair. 

“Who cares what Joshua thinks?” he mutters dismissively into your neck, leaving goosebumps in his wake, “I'd much rather spend my evening with you instead of at that dinner filled with people I can't stand,” he finishes off, teasing the hem of your robe with his long fingers. 

“As sweet of a sentiment as that is, we have guests from the Wen family visiting. We can't just not show up,” you argue, still remaining in his arms and shuddering when his lips press against the exposed skin of your shoulder. You bite back a whimper when one of his hands continues to trail higher up your thigh, pushing the fabric of your robe out of the way as much as he can to expose as much of your skin as possible to his scorching touch. Jeonghan is arguably the smartest man you know. Hell, you'd go as far as to say he's the smartest man in the nation. You're well aware he's just trying to sway you right now but, you can't pretend he's not being very convincing right now. 

“You've got me there,” he concedes but, his hand doesn't slow in the slightest, “We'll just be a little late, that's all,” he whispers and you swear you've never heard a more tempting offer in your life. It's so much worse when he spins you around to face him. As though you weren't feeling dizzy and lightheaded enough. The lust in his eyes shines brighter than the moon outside of your bedroom window. The charcoal one of his servants applied around them amplifies his want that causes your own desire to flare up viciously. And to think, a year ago you couldn't stand this man and struggled to imagine yourself liking him in any capacity. 

How things have changed. 

“You're a terrible influence,” is all you say before pulling him by his own robe and smashing your lips together. You resist the impulse to roll your eyes when you feel him chuckle against your lips. Fortunately, his hands do a fantastic job of distracting you from his smugness. Nimble fingers untying the knot at the front of your robe with practiced ease. It doesn't quite pool around you but, it does grant your husband all the access he needs. Warm hands wasting no time in kneading and massaging as much of your tits as he's able to. Groaning into your mouth when he feels your hardened nipples underneath his palms. 

“They can't be mad at us for being late anyway,” he mumbles against your lips, “They've been harassing us for an heir for months now. We're just fulfilling our royal duties.” You laugh harder than you anticipate. Your laughter doesn't deter Jeonghan, though. His attention simply shifts to kissing along your jaw and running his hands along your body as though this is the first time he's touching you. As though he didn't have those same hands on you this morning. Out of everything you've learned about him these last few months, his seemingly bottomless lust has caught you the most by surprise. 

“You're ridiculous,” you finally manage to say once you've calmed down sufficiently, allowing your fingers to play with the ends of his hair while his mouth reacquaintes itself with your neck. “Am I wrong?” He asks brazenly, briefly shooting you a look that's equal parts exasperated and knowing before continuing with his very important task of mapping your body with as much of his lips and hands as possible.

“No, you're not,” you concede, letting him pull you towards your ridiculously ornate bed, “but, you're not doing a great job of trying to sway me into believing you suddenly care about your royal duties,” you say with a smile that hurts your face a little. “What? A man can't change his mind?” He asks with faux seriousness. 

“He can but, maybe he should change it another time. Not when we're meant to be getting dressed for a dinner that's very important for the future of our kingdom,” you muse, joining him on your silk sheets and letting him palm your thighs and litter your collarbone with messy kisses. “We'll make it,” he says with so much certainty that you really can't find it within yourself to disagree or argue with him. Especially not when his hand is making its way up your inner thigh, “We just have to be quick and efficient, that's all.” 

Jeonghan doesn't give you much time to digest his words. Dragging you into another impassioned kiss while his fingers brush your delicate folds. He swallows your quiet gasps eagerly. Devouring every sound the swipes and presses of his fingers pluck from you. “I tho–thought you said we had to hurry,” you whine when he continues to toy with you. His touches far too light and far too quick, not allowing you a second to savour them. “You're right, you're right. My apologies.” He has the nerve to chuckle into your mouth but, any snark you're about to unleash on him is forgotten instantaneously when he finally presses his fingertips to your clit with enough pressure to make your eyes flutter and your hands fist his robe. 

“Han–Hannie,” you whimper, allowing yourself to get lost in his skilled fingers and mouth. The thought of political dinners completely vanished from your mind. His mouth finds its way to your neck, kissing along your jugular before descending to your collarbone. You're certain that he could kiss every part of you over and over and over again and it would still never be enough for him. He pushes two fingers into you at the same time that he latches onto your hardened nipple. Dark eyes watching you under his lashes as his mouth draws breathy gasps of his name (well, attempts of his name) and his fingers gradually open you up for him. 

Not one to be outdone, you find enough coherence to palm him through his undergarments. Pride swelling in your chest when you feel his fingers falter and his quiet groan pressed into your skin. He's already so hard and the urge to sit on him and swallow his cock to its hilt grips you violently. So violently in fact that it doesn't take much more prompting for you to slip your hand into his undergarments and grasp him directly. Your walls squeezing around his fingers in time with the way he pulses in your hand. 

“You're going to be the death of me,” he hisses, finding his composure rather quickly (because of course he does) and curling his fingers inside you in the way he knows will make stars dance in your vision. Frankly, you wouldn't be shocked if he was a warlock because the reactions he pulls from you are not normal in the slightest. “You ah started all of th–this,” you remind him, gradually stroking him and delighting in the way his cock throbs in your palm with every movement. It's always lovely to be reminded that he's just as far gone for you as you are for him. 

Jeonghan chooses not to respond. Electing instead to increase the intensity of the way his fingers curl inside of you and covering your breasts in kisses while he shallowly thrusts into your hand. It's all messy and barely coordinated but, you find the tension in your core building. Every brush of your clit, every touch of his fingers, every kiss and lick of his mouth just pushes you closer and closer to the edge. You're sure he can feel the way your thighs quiver and the lack of focus you're able to provide to his slick cock in your hand. It's so close that you can practically taste it. 

And just like that, Jeonghan pulls his drenched fingers out of you. 

You're not sure when your eyes shut but, they fly open within an instant. Shooting your husband with a look that you're sure is equal parts betrayal and frustration. You can't help the way your hips jolt, searching for any sort of stimulation. Instinctively looking for anything to help ease the fluttering of your walls and the incessant pulse of your clit.

“Jeonghan.” 

He does at least look a little ashamed but, not enough for your liking. You can still see the amusement too clearly in his eyes. “I'm sorry, love,” he doesn't sound sorry in the slightest, “You know I can't help myself sometimes,” he says with an upturn of his lips that makes your stomach twist horribly and your ache between your thighs worsen. “Let me make it up to you,” he offers, maneuvering his way between your thighs before you can blink and recognise he's no longer in your grasp. Gods, you know his hair is going to be ruined by the time the two of you are finished but, you truly hope not. He's looked otherworldly before but, seeing him from this angle is an entirely different experience altogether. You've got to slip his servants a generous amount of gold coins in thanks. 

His kiss is gentle this time. A stark contrast to the way you can feel his tip prodding at your dripping, eager entrance. “I love you,” he sighs before pushing into you and, you really don't think that's all that fair. You really did marry a dirty trickster of a man. “Always so eager and ready for me,” he continues, his voice hoarse with desire as he finds his pace and all you can do is cling to his back for some form of grounding, “My beautiful, lovely, brilliant, erotic wife,” he grits out, one of his hands gripping your hip fiercely. 

It's hard to think of anything other than his gorgeous face twisted in the most arousing expressions you've ever seen in your life and the way his cock drags along the deepest, most intimate parts of you. You knew you were close before but, a few thrusts already have you dangerously teetering on the edge. “You're so unfair,” you gasp out while he focuses his attention on nipping at your throat while twisting and tugging at your nipples with those stupidly skilled fingers of his. 

“Unfair?” He laughs breathlessly, meeting your lidded gaze with his own, “Maybe you shouldn't have seduced me with that flimsy robe of yours,” he argues. The following snap of his hips is sharp and you can't really find it in you to respond. Grasping his own robe for purchase as the tension in your core begins to reach a fever pitch. “How was I meant to stop myself when you looked like that?” He rasps into your ear and you think it's deeply unfair how many of your weaknesses he's learned and, is using against you. He chuckles into your skin when all you're able to reply with are choked gasps and whines of his name. You can feel him smile into you when you jolt just as he presses his fingers to your swollen clit. Not giving you a chance to collect yourself before he rubs circles into you that cause your thighs to shake violently and your walls to tighten around him. 

“You wanted to cum, right?” His tone is teasing and you swear you hate him. It's difficult to speak when you can practically taste your climax with every touch of his fingers and stroke of his cock, “I want you to,” he breathes, a touch of desperation to his tone, “I want to feel it when you do. Want to feel you cum all over me, all around me,” he whispers straight into your ear and you can already feel the beginnings of electricity shooting down your spine, “I need to.” 

You're not sure what causes the cord to snap entirely. His cock? His fingers? His words? His voice? Him? You're not sure it really matters, ultimately. Your breaths turn to gasps and whimpers moans of his name while your thighs quiver around his slender hips. Every extremity tingling with the lightning you can feel coursing through you as Jeonghan continues his movements even through your mind numbing orgasm. You're too lost in a daze to make out what he's saying but, the bleary vision of him with his carefully styled hair sticking to his sweaty face and his smeared, charcoal liner make your stomach swoop all the same. 

“–beautiful you are,” are the rushed words you do manage to catch just as his grip on your hips grows harsher and his face morphs in pleasure. Jeonghan's stamina is impressive. Another aspect of him that you never quite expected. And usually, you'd be more than happy to let him continue making love to you until you both pass out but, you both have duties to attend to.

Jeonghan isn't the only one who has picked up a trick or two over the course of your marriage. 

Using what little energy you have left, you wrap your arms around him. Jeonghan lets you pull him closer to you, his breath stuttering when you intentionally clench your walls around him and drag your fingernails along the parts of scalp that aren't covered in hair clips. “Hannie,” you add an extra bit of whine in your voice, reveling in the way you feel him shudder and his cock throb inside of you, “Love you, Hannie.” He makes a noise you barely register before kissing you fiercely and holding you in place as he snaps his hips faster and faster, his blunt nails digging into your skin and your kiss being more tongue and spit than anything else. 

You're not sure what pushes him over the edge but, it's not long before he moans long and quietly into your mouth and you feel his cock shoot rope after rope of his release into you. The warmth that fills you is familiar and just so him that you can't help the soft whines that fall from your lips as you feel him ride out his climax. You can tell he's trying his best to not just collapse onto you but, the shakiness in his arms is evident and he's practically on you already. A small laugh bubbles out of you and you can't help but, smile when he shoots you a curious look.

“What?” He asks, running his thumb along the marks his nails left on your hip. 

“You can rest on me if you want to, beloved husband,” your face hurts from how much you're smiling. You must look insane, “You won't crush me.” 

Either he's just as insane as you are or he shares your bizarre sense of elation right now because he smiles right back at you before responding, “I thought we had a dinner to attend?” You decide to ignore how attractive he looks with his eyebrow raised. 

“We're already running late anyway. What's a few more minutes?” 

He really has become a terrible influence. 

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Seventeen Masterlist | Ko-Fi

[vodkababy]

barbie girl ｡˚ ⋆꒰ა♡໒꒱⋆ ˚｡ 🎀🍉

mike wheeler x doll collector! fem reader

smut. this is fucking nasty so if u guys dont like mike wheeler smut just s c r o l l ♡♪

age pairing : 17-18

warnings : none

the exchange of looks and stares between you and a classmate of yours in chemistry bubbled across the hallway. you had taken an interest towards this boy, “wheeler” as you called him. his glare towards you always sent chills to your spine. or even to your throbbing— we aren’t there yet.

it wasn’t a joke that he was hot. he was really hot for a nerd. his fingers always got your panties in a bunch. his nose— oh god don’t even get started with his nose. his nose is perfect and to think of it, his curls were cute.

you guys were partnered up for a project and he had to come to your house to finish, and that’s how he ended up in your room, admiring your collection.

mike considered himself a gentleman, a respectable boy, but boy did he reconsider those words as soon as he saw what you were wearing. half of the time he was over, he was either talking to you or staring at your hardened nipples under your shirt due to the cold temperature of your ac.

“you collect barbies?”

“yeah.”

“don’t you think they’re kind of uh.. creepy? imagine sleeping and first thing you see when you wake up is a doll.”

“i don’t think so. they’re quite pretty to me, to be honest”

“i don’t really have a collection. i play dungeons and dragons.”

his fingers lingered on your barbie doll that you were quite fond of. your malibu barbie. a wave of confidence washed over you.

you had remembered the lingerie set you bought a couple of months ago on impulse. it wasn’t like you were actually planning to fuck someone. you weren’t a virgin. you had taken a few polaroids of yourself wearing the dainty pink lace panties and the bra that was almost spilling your huge breasts.

“i’ve got a barbie you can play with.”

mike felt his cheeks go red. what was she implying? immediately, dirty thoughts went onto his pretty head. he had always thought that y/n l/n was hot, first of all, she was a cheerleader. she was pretty. he just chose to ignore those lingering feelings he had because he didn’t want a relationship.

“is this gonna be a one time thing?” he asked. they were both slowly closing the gap between them, feeling their hot breaths on each other. “it’s up to you, mike.” slowly sliding down her own straps of her pink gingham tank top.

“i don’t want it to be a one time thing.”

“so do i.”

those words made him push over the edge, as you pushed him to your bed and straddled him on top, grazing your fingers on the evident bulge in his jeans. he pulled you to his face and you guys started to make out.

you unbutton his shirt while his hands were fondling your thighs, later you came to unzip his jeans and later his underwear, leaving him completely unclothed. he went to pull your tank top until you stopped him.

“ah ah ah. you don’t get to touch me.”

“come on y/n. please let me touch you—“

“you have to work for it, baby”

feeling defeat, you had tied mike onto your bed posts. your bed didn’t look any different to your barbies’ clothes. it was all styled in pink and lace.

you teasingly take your shorts off. leaving you in your sheer pink panties that made mike drool at the sight of your pussy. sitting beside him, you slowly pull your panties showing him your glistening core.

“i wanna touch you so bad, barbie girl.”

“good things come to those who wait, ken.”

you unclipped your bra revealing your tits. mike watched your breasts move with a slack jaw, the tip of his dick having a shade of an angry red. of course, you didn’t fail to see that so you did him a favor.

“you’re so big mike” “how will you fit in me?” you showered him with praises that didn’t fail to make him moan as your fingers were wrapped around his cock with your spit coated in it.

you crawl on top of him, only for his mouth to be met with your cunt. immediately he latched his mouth onto your pussy, and licked a stripe up, leaving you shuddering with his touch. kitten licks turned into big licks. big licks turned into sucking. the sucking turned into him plunging his tongue in and out your throbbing core, making you catch your high and throw your head back in pleasure.

mike grabbed onto your hips to support you, further, his hands started to dig onto your supple skin. “m-mike— i’m close- oh god” the overstimulation made you feel weak. you eventually started grinding on his face. it had only been a few minutes yet this boy had made you come more than 2 times. you felt yourself release, him lapping up your juices with his tongue.

you pulled off his mouth and collapsed on the other side of the bed. “you alright?” he asked. he sat up and looked at you, noticing your chest was heaving up and down.

“i have an idea.”

“well, we can make that idea happen if you untie me.”

“oh i will.”

you had grabbed your lipstick shaped vibrator from the drawer of your nightstand, mike parting his lips in shock of all the toys you have hidden in your drawer. you quickly untied his wrists from the posts of your bed, him immediately getting on top of you and starting to kiss you.

“what are we gonna do with that little toy of yours?”

“use it on me, please.”

“mmh, what if i don’t wanna?”

“i don’t take no for an answer pretty boy.”

next thing you know, you were sprawled in your bed. legs parted wide and mike dragging the vibrator across your pussy. “o-oh! oh my god- fuck!” you said gripping the sheets. he had increased the speed of the toy, making you buck your hips unconsciously. surprisingly you squirt. (bye wtf im crying how does squirting even work)

“oh god, you’re a squirter-“ “shut up!”

“i wanna fuck you even more now”

“then do it mike”

he had lined his cock up your pussy and started to ease himself in slowly. he starts to pound in your pussy in a controllable speed, then it goes faster. faster until you feel like your back was going to break after all that arching. you could even see the tip of his cock visibly inside your womb.

“shit— you feel so good barbie.”

“faster- faster- please baby”

loud moans were heard across the room. you were thankful that your parents were away this week for a vacation in italy. if your parents were home, god you would’ve been grounded for half the year.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“can i um— ask you something? its- its more of a favor but like—“

“what is it?”

“could you uh— ride me.”

you looked at him with a surprised look painted on your face. you didn’t expect him to ask you for a favor like that, as if you weren’t the one who started this fuck session with him. his cheeks were red out of embarrassment, you smiled as soon as you saw his face and agreed with his “favor”.

you flip each other’s positions, leaving him under you. you sink onto his dick, firstly, moving your hips back and forth, ending up with you vigorously bouncing on him.

his moans were loud. he was whining like a bitch, showering you with praises like “y/n you’re so good..” “so fucking beautiful” “you feel so great oh god—“ he felt himself slowly reaching his high. he didn’t have a condom on. “y-y/n i’m about to cum.” he spoke so softly.

“i didn’t put a condom on”

“it’s okay, you can do it inside.”

those words pushed him over the edge, releasing inside of you. as soon as you felt his cum inside you, the knots inside were erupted.

you collapsed on to the other side of the bed looking at him. his eyes shut and his lips parted, chest heaving.

“that was nice” you said. just so that the silence wasn’t so awkward.

“yeah. you know, i’ve always liked you.”

“you did?”

“yeah.” he said. kissing your lips softly. it wasn’t like anything you had done just a few seconds ago. it was a sweet kiss. the ones you share with pure love in it.

you guys were totally fucked up the next day tho, you had forgotten about the reason why he was even over at your house.