#I think though everything can be solved with communication

[bodega-catto]

Worst part of having a fall-out with someone is wanting to show them something but you don’t talk anymore 😔

[yanderenightmare]

Yandere Seven Deadly Sins

♡ AN: from the Promptlist

♡ TW: a lot of different stuff today, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, yandere, stalking, gangbang, harsh language, sexual exploitation, bondage, zero holes safe, and more, read at your own risk

♡ FEM reader

Pride is an artist, and you, poor dear, are lucky enough to be his muse.

You’d caught his eye one day simply by coincidence while working your part-time job as a barista.

And though it had been a rather unorthodox request—between balancing school and work and constantly finding yourself both strapped for cash and strapped for time—you’d decided to quit and take him up on his offer—as what he was offering was about twice what you could make at the cafe anyway.

He’s not that much older than you, but he’s old money. And while you're stuck in community college, he goes to an elite art school—which he doesn’t even show up to, 'cause why would he? They can't afford to kick him out anyway, given his father’s donations make up half of their yearly budget.

And so he's free to self-study as much as he wants.

Yeah... he’s a little too used to getting what he wants—exactly how he wants it—without delay. So when you struggle to come to your sessions on time due to having to take the bus to the other side of town, he decides to solve it by buying you a car. And when he doesn’t feel like that’s sufficient enough, he buys you an apartment right above his own studio. And when you try to reject, he only has three concise words for you.

“Don’t be stupid.”

The way he says it leaves very little up for debate. In fact, it leaves you mute each and every time. 

It was nice in the beginning—you didn’t protest to anything other than his overpriced gifts. You were flattered and blushy and giddy and more than happy to sit pretty for him for hours at a time while he sketched and sculpted and painted and whatnot. It was essentially nothing in comparison to the luxuries he gave you in return.

But you think, at some point along the way, he must have forgotten that he only owns the artworks he makes of you—not you yourself.

“N-naked?” you stutter, looking at him wide-eyed where he stands in his usual apron—flecked with the proof of your countless sessions. Honestly, it was getting to be a little strange posing for him in a room stuffed with a myriad of sketches, paintings, and statues of yourself. Hadn’t he had enough?

“I can’t capture you correctly when you wear all these rags,” he says—clinically, though with a pinch of impatience just shy of vexation—eyeing you from head to toe, almost with a look of disgust while beholding your clothes, despite being the one who’d bought them. “They obscure everything. So take them off.”

You knew he’d probably had about a hundred models undress for him, and stand here—old, young, men, women—you knew it probably didn’t mean much to him. He probably regarded it the same way he does everything—without even batting an eye. However…

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do that…” You fiddle with your fingers, standing there, still dressed despite him standing ready at his easel, foot-tapping while waiting for you, already with a stick of charcoal between his fingers. 

“Why are you making a fuss? You think I haven’t seen a naked body before?” he jokes, but without humor—no, rather strictness as if you’re wasting very precious time. “This is standard practice—don’t make it anything than what it is.”

There he goes again with those very final words that make you feel all in all kind of silly.

You bite your lip and mull it over before ever-so-begrudgingly uttering a weak little, “Okay…”

You suppose he was right. This is a job, and it’s just nudity—just another shape in the eyes of an artist—it doesn’t mean anything—is what you tell yourself while you undress. Still, you can’t help but feel flush—heart pounding in your chest as you fold your clothes all neatly for some other nervous reason. 

“Resume the pose,” he says—almost like a drill sergeant. And you jump into place, timidly rushing over to the chaise where you lie down like before.

This does feel like it would be a better painting, you admit. More reminiscent of Renaissance art and such. Not that you know much about it, but thinking back to field trips through the museum, you seem to remember having seen plenty of portraits of naked ladies lying on pretty but uncomfortable sofas just like this.

He seems very invested, at least. A deep furl between his brows, nearly scowling at you while he works—though you’ve come to learn that it’s just his concentration face.

After a while, he sets his charcoal down and wipes his blackened hands on his apron.

You sit up, asking, “Are you done?” All but ready to leap from your seat to your clothes and finally cover yourself again.

“No, keep still,” he all but reprimands—voice intense as he stalks across the floor over to you with determination written plainly across his face.

You draw back in place as he rests his knee on the chaise and leans forward. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come and correct your pose, but you couldn’t help but flinch this time around, feeling just a bit too exposed.

His hands are warm and overworked, both dry and a bit clammy all at the same time. You didn’t mind much when you wore clothes, but it felt a bit too intimate now as he touched your bare skin. But you bear with it despite that.

Eyes closed, you repeat that same line from before—it doesn’t mean anything, this is standard practice, it doesn’t mean anything.

It works in calming your breath for a moment, but then he grabs your tit.

You gasp, jolting back while stuttering, “Wha–what are you doing?”

And yet, he keeps his steal gaze just as fixed and unfazed as before, sighing at you as if you were overreacting, before stating rather simply, “Getting a better understanding of your body.” He then reaches toward you again, showing no concern for how you shrink away. “It’s easier to replicate when I know it by hand.”

Again, you let his voice silence you, and again, you closed your eyes and let his hands wander—around your chest, up your neck, down your belly, and then—

“Wait! That can’t be necessary—” you blurt out, this time with your arms and hands shooting forth to distance him.

“Oh, trust me—it is.” Again, he pays you no mind, simply bearing over you with his entitled hands roaming whatever place he so wishes and chooses. Only clicking his tongue at you when you squirm, “Don’t fuss.”

You don’t exactly push him away, though you don’t exactly make his pursuit easier for him—lying there beneath his touches, wiggling and whimpering, though not really protesting either as he feels your slit.

Your fingers curl into his arms, gripping his messy shirt streaked with paint and coal—as his fingers run through your lips, teasing your entrance and your clit. He twists his hand around and presses his thumb down on the pearl after it perks for attention, then enters you with his pointer finger—drawing out wetness before promptly feeding you another.

You bite your lip as they curl and spread within you, testing you out while rubbing firm circles into your clit.

Gingerly, your hips return it, starting to move in tune with his ministrations. Thighs trembling, keeping your eyes squeezed tightly shut as you start to pant—small moans leaving your lips with every breath, feeling it build within you—a small flame at first, nursed until it fills and all but fights for room within you before finally bursting.

“That’s it—that’s the expression,” he purrs—voice much softer than usual—cupping your face with his other hand, holding you steady while taking in those dopey eyes sparkling with pleasure and those parted lips that never dare speak up—eyeing you like he's the proud owner of a prized possession. “Perfect.”

He hums, sounding pleased, then gets off you shortly after, sauntering back to his easel.

“You can get dressed now. I got what I needed,” he states, picking the stick of charcoal up again, ripping the last sketch off for a fresh sheet before starting anew as if nothing had happened.

And you, still lying there, are left just as mute as usual.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Touya, Hawks, Shinso, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Megumi ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Oikawa, Sakusa ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin, Sae, Baro ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Muzan, Sanemi

Wrath is your ex-boyfriend who refuses to get it through his thick skull that the two of you are over.

Any time you talk to another guy, he beats him up—to a fucking pulp, no less. 

He’s always been that way, and still, it wasn’t always like this…

You started dating each other when you were young. He was rough around the edges, and you liked that about him—tattoos from his neck down to his ankles—the type your parents would have a heart attack if you ever brought home.

He was going to be a professional fighter, he’d say—mixed martial arts. He had all the rage and zero technique, but still, he’d land some of the best on their ass all through pure strength of will alone. 

He was near impossible to train, though—always too wired to be able to take any pointers. And that’s why he needed you. You were his reliever. He’d fuck you like it was his last day on earth, and suddenly he’d be able to do anything. Like an enhancement drug, everything would start moving in slow motion, and he could somehow see all the moves of his opponent before they ever made them.

You admit you liked hearing him preach about it. It made you feel important—made you feel as if half the win, or at least some of it, was yours. And when he started raking in the dough as the champion, winning multiple titles across several tournaments, you were more than happy to be his lucky charm and cheer him on from the sidelines.

But then, you had this awful and sudden feeling of being just that—a tool for his success and nothing else. Sure, he’d give you presents—pretty things he thought suited you well—but you hadn’t gone on a date since his career started, nor had you had a proper sit-down dinner together either. He’d stick to his diet regime, be out training at the gym all day, and you’d be home, going about your own business.

And while you were doing that, you’d think—about the nature of your relationship. And what you found is that all it really entails in the end is him demanding a fuck whenever he needed it—before a tournament, before training, before an interview. And then, after coming to that glum conclusion, you can’t help but feel like nothing more than another one of those items he keeps loose in his gym bag.

And those thoughts only got validated when you tried denying him sex for the first time…

You were just curious, really—curious to see what he’d do. If he’d beg, if he’d plead, if he’d say boo, don’t be that way while down on his hands and knees for you.

But of course... he can’t get anything else but angry.

“If you’re not gonna give me the one thing you're useful for, then what the fuck do I keep you around for?” is what he’d said—no, barked. “You think you’re special? If you’re not gonna put out, I might as well go out and find me someone who will.”

He’d fucked off to some other room with a huff and left you standing there. 

And you don’t know, amidst the shell shock and the ache of your heart coming undone... suddenly, you had no idea why you were there or with him or what you were supposed to do—and when you found no answer to any of those questions, it made no sense for you to stay. And so you went to your shared bedroom—or his bedroom, as a matter of fact, which you’d stayed in for the last months—quickly grabbed your things—your things specifically, and not all the other stuff he’d thrown at you—and stuffed it all haphazardly in your bag, then gone out to the entryway to put your shoes on.

That’s when he’d reared his head again with the gall of asking, “Where the fuck are you going?” 

He hadn’t had that same raised tone as before. No, this time it was lowered—frayed—with a touch of urgency and unease as if balancing on the edge of a knife—as if he knew he'd done something wrong and was reaping the consequences and yet still hadn't the balls to simply apologize and correct it.

And so, you hadn’t answered him.

“It’s the middle of the fucking night,” he’d stated then, coming closer, ready to grab your arm with that hint of alarm in his voice increased. “Hey, I asked you fucking a question—”

That’s when you’d twisted around and slapped him. You’d put all your might into it as well, though you doubt it compared to much of what he’d felt in the ring. 

And still, he’d looked at you as if he’d just lost all his titles. 

He hadn’t said anything else after that—just stood there with his mouth agape as you opened the door and slammed it shut behind you. In fact, you don't think he even dared do so much as take a breath.

You’d gone and crashed at a friend's and rethought your life. There was no way you could ever go back, after all—not after what he’d said. Treating you like a stay-at-home whore. Who the fuck does he think he is?

What an asshole—you'd tried convincing yourself as you cried yourself to sleep…

The days and weeks after were nothing if not fucked up and toxic, to say the least. You’d go out to have a fun time and try to forget about him, but he’d always show up out of the blue to ruin everything—being his usual douche self. 

Though… you can’t exactly claim to be any better than him—not after finding yourself in bed with his number-one up-and-coming rival.

Of course, it ends up all over the news—big headlines plastered on every gossip platform pushing your private affairs for all to see—a real media circus if there ever was one.

You end up back in his apartment. To talk, he’d said—a pretense you had a hard time believing in. He’s never been one to talk much. Honestly, you don’t know why you even bothered coming over when he asked. There might even be a chance he’ll kill you. This is how most homicides start, after all.

The two of you sit in silence for a couple of minutes. You look off to the side, waiting for him to speak because fuck knows you have nothing to say. 

Meanwhile, he just stares at you—his big, hulking body leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands braided before his face. It’s the type of posture he’ll have when sitting in the corner of the ring—he’s got that same look in his eyes, too, deadset on you.

It makes you a little nervous, actually—maybe he really does plan on killing you.

“Why’d you do it?” he asks suddenly.

You almost scoff—almost roll your eyes, but you end up simply returning his dead glare. “Is that really what you asked me here for?”

He doesn’t answer that question. He just keeps staring at you.

You huff out a sigh, “I don’t know, maybe I just wondered what it would be like to be fucked like a woman for once and not someone’s toy.” 

You don’t know why you decided to take it there when you both know why you’d done it. What other fucking reason would there be other than to get back at him? It’s a stupid question to begin with, and so you give it a stupid answer in return. And you won’t deny it feels fucking good—seeing him like this. Five o’clock shadow, eyebags, and uncut, disheveled hair. 

He looks like a wreck, and rightfully so. Fuck knows what a mess you’d been before you finally managed to drag yourself out of bed. Funny what the single simple thought of revenge can do for someone so lost.

He scrapes his thumb down his jawline, over his stubble—a deep sigh running through him as he leans back on the couch. Offering no other reaction as he says, “I can sit here and act threatened, but you and I both know he was shit compared to me.”

He throws his arms up against the headrest, chin tipped up. Thinking he can hide it, thinking you can’t see right through him—to how hard he’s fighting to upkeep the poker face. 

He’s forgetting who his opponent is.

“I know you, babe—I know your body. And there's no fucking way some shitstain you just met–”

“His dick was bigger,” you interrupt—face blank because two can play that silly game, and you do it better.

He’s shut up for a moment—you can see a vein pulse, but it’s quickly stifled, and he smirks instead, snickering despite his grit teeth, “Sorry, that must'a hurt given how much you cry with me.”

This time, you don’t refrain from scoffing and rolling your eyes, “That's all you have to say? Thought you were a fighter.”

“You want me to get jealous? Is that it?” he accuses then, starting to crack, throwing your scoff back at you, “Tch—should've fucked somebody important then.”

This time, you skip the eye-roll and flat-out laugh instead, “I'll keep that in mind. Next time, I'll call up your dad-”

That did it—got him out of his seat and everything. “Shut your mouth.” Standing big and hunched, all muscles and fury.

And you react in kind. Glad that you’re finally getting somewhere. “Make me.”

"You're fucking–" He clenched his fist in the air, scrunching his face in frustration, withholding a growl before releasing a heavy sigh instead.

Dropping his arms, shoulders slumping—hanging his head the same way whilst mumbling under his breath, “Fuck this… fuck this entire thing.” 

And just as quickly as he’d sprung to his feet, he flopped down on the couch again. 

“I don't wanna play games…” He looks up at you—now with the look of a starved and beaten dog. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

He reaches out slowly—big hands cradling your thighs, pulling you towards him gently, and you let him—put off by that strange new look in his eyes.

“You can fuck half the world, and I'd still only want you.”

It’s an odd confession. Unexpected coming from him. You’d anticipated more of a fight, not whatever this is. Looking at you with glossy eyes on the verge of tears. Suddenly, you feel kind of mean, struck with this sense of guilt for having reduced him to such a state.

“Don't take the high road. It doesn't suit you,” you declare, though without much bite.

And he just sighs, “Fuck that, we’re even now.” Pulling you even closer still—into his lap—he makes you straddle him. Forehead to forehead without kissing you yet. “So, are you gonna let me fuck you, or are you really gonna make me beg?”

And though you would kind of like to see what he’d look like on his knees, the sight of him like this was good enough proof that he’d learned his lesson despite it not being an apology.

Besides, he'd been all too right when he’d said the other guy couldn’t fuck you like him.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Kyotani, Sakusa ♡ BLLK – Shido ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi ♡ HxH – Uvogin

Sloth is a street urchin.

You volunteer at the homeless shelter and can’t help but feel extra sorry for him. He’s only around your age—so young yet with no future to speak of.

This winter, given it’s going to be an especially harsh one, all volunteers have been asked if they have any spare room they can be so kind as to give to those less fortunate. And though you’re not that well off yourself, you still have an extra room you’ve only been using as storage.

So, unable to look the other way, you decide to clean it out, get a bed, and host him.

You took precautions first, naturally—just to be safe. But, from what you could tell, he’s neither a drug addict nor has any criminal record to speak of. No, he’s just another abandoned kid who'd society had failed.

This is the least you can do to correct its wrongs.

And, of course, he falls in love with you for it. Not only do you give him a place of rest—but you make him warm food, give him fresh clothes, do his laundry, draw his bath, watch movies with him every night, and always ask him if he has everything he needs. You even cut his long, shaggy hair for him and give him luxuries such as face-lotion. 

You’re a saint, too good for a filthy sinner like him, but he’ll never let you know that... No, your pity feels too nice—taking such good care of him—he’s going to leach off of you and your honeycomb heart for the rest of his life if he can help it.

He doesn't look too bad after he cleans up, and after a few more weeks of eating well and getting enough rest—he stops lurching and starts standing up straight, looking lanky and lean with muscle—at which point you can’t deny he’s even a little hot. You know… in that scrappy sort of way.

You feel weird about it, of course—guilty even. He’s a homeless guy you’re housing—you’d be nothing if not downright evil if you took advantage of him. But after a few weeks of settling in, he starts feeling like more of a normal roommate and not a stranger. And with that familiarity, you both lose the distance and become more lax and loose around each other—wearing less, talking casually, not afraid to brush up against each other, and before you even know it, you find yourself folded in half beneath him on the living room couch.

You don’t know what the fuck you’ve gotten yourself into—but his cock’s so big he’s pounding the sense right out of you with every thrust.

He’s not even going fast. No, rather slow, actually—taking his time as if savoring it. But that doesn't take away from the pleasure bubbling up inside of you where his strokes hit so heavy, resting deep within, so fulfilling that it all but replaces your better judgment with the sole need to squeeze him with all you've got.

“Mh, you’re pussy’s so nice and warm—I could stay inside you forever.”

You’re so wet it’s ridiculous—like never before—like you’re the one who’s been starved and neglected and not the other way around. Getting your breath all but knocked out of you, getting fucked so utterly full, he’s making you kick your feet and curl your toes in the air, bucking your hips back into him like you’re desperately begging for more.

He’s got your knees hooked over his arms, keeping you neatly pressed under him. “You’re so good to me—so, so sweet, you must be the sweetest girl in the whole entire world. My guardian angel.” 

All you’re able to do is babble and moan in return—misty- and cross-eyed with your dewy face cradled in his hands. 

You just hold onto his wrists while he speaks fondly against your lips, “You saved me when no one else even bothered looking. Let me return the favor—give this pretty pussy all the thanks it deserves.”

When he re-angles and hits you in a different spot, the switch in your lower belly is immediate—making your whole body seize up and shiver, breath shuddering in your throat, followed swiftly by a pulse migrating from your core all throughout your body, tasting oversweet on your tongue enough to make you drool. 

He locks lips with yours, slurping your spit up sloppily and keeping himself fully sleaved as you peak—feeling your wet, gummy walls tighten and flutter, rippling along his length like a rush of kisses. 

Then, right before it fully dies down, he picks up the pace again and rekindles it—because fuck knows he’s well-rested and over-due and the farthest thing from done with you just yet.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Denki, Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo, Yuji, Megumi, Yuuta, Choso ♡ HQ – Kuro, Lev, Miya twins, Suna, Tendou ♡ CSM – Denji, Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Nagi ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Togame

Gluttony is a five-star chef. 

You start off as a waitress at his restaurant. And yet, he’s the one who developed an appetite—for you and your pleasing smile and that busy-bee swing you have in your hip as you hop around from table to table. 

He licks his lips at the sight of you more than he does the food he makes. He even had the uniforms altered in your image—made the skirts shorter and shirts tighter.

He's utterly shameless, but who can blame him? You’re such a little bite-sized treat—he just has to taste you.

And taste you, he most certainly does. 

For breakfast and for brunch and lunch and dinner and supper, as well as a midnight snack.

“Your pussy juice is my favorite,” he groans from between your legs.

Fat-muscled chef’s arms, tattooed with all types of silly patches, curled tightly around your thighs, keeping you close despite those times you try and push away when it gets to be a little too much—because fuck knows he doesn’t have the same reservations. Nose and tongue and chin deep in your slit, slurping you down while filling you up with his words, “I want to flavor every meal I make with you.”

You keep a hand over your face, kissing your knuckles, sometimes with a bite—whimpering pitifully, “Gross…”

Of course, you can’t help but cringe when he says things like that. He’s your boss, after all, not a porn actor. Still, you don’t say it with much conviction. It’s just that you get so embarrassed you don’t know what else to say.

He chuckles, still with his face buried. “Don’t be childish.” Words muffled as he doubles down on his efforts of sucking on your clit like a piece of candy.

“I’m not,” you whine. “You're just weird.”

He smacks off of you at that, a refreshing sigh leaving him rugged and raspy, a devilish look in his eyes as if he’s about to eat you for real. “I’m a world-renowned chef—are you implying I don’t know my flavors?”

Everything in your gut coils with anticipation, nearly rumbling with need, while he pulls your lower half up and even closer—face glossy with the way he’d gorged himself already—licking his teeth now as he refocuses on your clit alone.

Flattening his tongue on it while he speaks, sounding like some type of beast, “I’ve tasted everything the world has to offer. And I'm telling you, this pretty little thing between your legs is the best there is.”

You can’t stand looking up at him. Beyond embarrassed, you hide your face with both hands. Mumbling out a weak, “Pervert...”

Again, he snickers, shaking his head as if he’s ripping into flesh when he’s really just got his tongue out—straight motorboating your poor pussy.

When done, he drops you onto the bed again, grinning while replying to your insult, “Can’t argue with that,” before promptly kissing and licking up your belly—with fingers replacing his tongue, pumping you on his knuckles, getting you ready. 

He groans when his mouth reaches your chest, lips wrapped around a nipple, “If only these titties had milk. I could feast on you from every position.”

You don’t know if you should giggle or grumble—he’s such a baby—and a spoiled one at that. But really, his fingering is making it difficult to do anything but stammer and try and keep it together, “We talked about this—I’m not taking hormones just to breastfeed you, you weirdo.”

He whines then, “Please—it’s my only wish in the entire world—I need it.”

You struggle to argue, feeling like you’re under siege—an onslaught set out to make you breathless. “Well—” you pant, gritting your teeth and bearing it. “We can’t always get what we want.”

“Oh, I’ll see about that.” He takes it as a challenge, this time really locking his lips around your nipple and suckling—releasing just briefly to say, “I bet if I suck on these babies enough, they’ll give me what I want.”

He keeps his fingers working diligently while at it—used to multitasking—curling and spreading them out within you, pumping you so fast, you barely have the time to beg him to “Stop that—” before you’re already shaking and cumming for what must be the seventh time already.

He laughs breathily, kissing your teat goodbye as he lifts himself up again. Pulling his fingers out of you, he brings them to his lips and blithely sucks them off. 

“You know I can’t stop, dear. I’m so hungry—I’m ravenous.”

You watch him from over the tips of your fingers. So hot and mortified you think you’re soon to pass out. Breathing heavily behind your hands, muttering, “You’re a glutton—that’s what you are.”

Again, he just cheerfully snickers, bowing down to your halfway-hidden face with a smile. “I hardly see how it’s my fault I can’t get enough of you.” 

He spreads your legs again and finds his place between them.

“You’re the one who got me hooked—so you better take responsibility for it.”

♡ BNHA – Kirishima, Natsuo, Mirio ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Toji, Todo ♡ HQ – Bokuto, Ukai ♡ BLLK – Baro, Aiku ♡ AOT – Zeke ♡ DS – Doma ♡ HxH – Uvogin ♡ WB – Umemiya, Togame

Lust is your boss. He's the owner of the strip club where you work, your pimp when money’s tight, as well as the porndirector of all your lovely little films.

Yeah, you might as well have a tramp stamp of his name on your ass, the way he practically owns you…

He's around ten years older and has basically taught you all about sex from when you were only a fledgling in the industry. You live at his studio above the club since he keeps all your money in a bank account under his name, calling you his little sugarbaby and telling you you’ll get an allowance and that you can get more if and when you ask him nicely and tell him what it’s for. 

“Don’t be a brat, baby. You know how I hate it when you're a bad girl,” he says when you raise the topic of moving out, treating it as if you’re a child threatening to run away from home.

“I don’t belong to you. Give me what you owe me.”

Honestly, you have no idea where you got the courage. 

But is it courage? Or is it just plain stupidity? Because, though you’re increasingly more terrified as you quickly watch him lose his temper, it doesn’t exactly come as a surprise. And so, if you knew this is what was going to happen—why the fuck would you put yourself through it?

Must be madness.

“I give you everything, don't I? Food, clothes, a home,” he chastises, bearing over you while you’re down on scuffed knees, holding your wrist in a bruising grip and your face just as fiercely—nearly tearing the skin off your cheeks with the bite of his nails.

“And still, you have the fucking nerve to act like a goddamn bitch.”

You hiccup on sobs, spluttering out a desperate “Please—I’m sorry–”

"You and your entire slut body belong to me, you understand that?"

"Yes-yes—please—I'm sorry! You're right! I belong to you! I'm sorry!"

That seems to calm him just a bit—at least enough to take the bite away from his voice, now cooing at you in an ugly mocking attempt at sweetness, “Yeah, you do every single little thing I ask. ‘Cause if you’re not gonna behave like a good girl, I have no other choice but to treat you like a bad one.”

He lets your audience be rowdier than usual that night, allowing them to slap and grab, then forces you to have an extra rough shoot afterward—with tighter bondage, more toys, bigger guys making use of you like a piece of meat, smacking and choking you as they find out how many cocks your holes can fit, every last one finishing on your face.

Then, when you’re all done and all used up for the day, he brings you upstairs—home, sweet home—where he treats you to some much-unwanted after-care...

You shiver and shake despite the hot water. Sitting in the bathtub, laying back with your spine against his chest, feeling thin like a sheet of paper, all crumbled up and torn—sniffling and sniveling as the after-shock of the day still ricochets through you like wind through a hollow husk.

“The shoot today was rough, huh?” he drawls, washing you with his own hands. Stroking your poor sore cunt despite how it makes you whimper. “Yeah... was it a little too rough for you, hm?” 

You don’t do anything in return—but your body language says enough on its own, and he allows it to be your answer.

Sighing heavily, he wraps you up with both arms and squeezes you tighter, chin resting atop your head.

“You know… if you’d just be my good girl, I’d give you a good girl to-do list. Let you stay here all day, do some house chores while I’m gone, make love when I get home, hm? Doesn’t that sound better?”

He traces a welted bruise on the inside of your thigh, one you got from the shoot—roughly the shape of a hand, and a dozen more others layered on top of it. It makes you suck in a hiss.

“But if you’re gonna be a bad girl, then this is what you get.” 

He settles into the grove of your neck, purring against your ear. “Are you gonna be my good girl from now on? Hm?”

You bite your lip, breath shuddering while nodding pitifully.

And still, he insists, “Say it so I can hear it.”

The water’s gone cold around you—just like everything else, as you say, “I’ll be a good girl.”

He seems pleased, at least. Nuzzling against your cheek with chin stubble and a smirk, asking, “Yeah? Whose?”

Your voice is small and pathetic, nearly a wince, “Yours.”

He groans then, “That’s right. My good girl.” Lifting his hand from the water, he takes hold of your chin, fingers pressing into those designated sore spots as he angles your face toward him and gives you a heartless kiss before growling against your lips, “And don’t you ever fucking dare forget it again.”

After he’s finished washing you up, he carries you out to bed. It's one you fear much more than the one down in the studio.

Because in this bed, just like every night in this hellhole… he starts teaching every last one of your holes who they belong to.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Toji ♡ BLLK – Reo, Shido, Aiku ♡ AOT – Zeke ♡ DS – Doma, Muzan, Sanemi

Envy is your enemy. 

Or, well, no, he’s not your enemy, but you’re most certainly his enemy. 

You’re just not aware of it because of what a ditzy and clueless airhead you are. 

But fuck, he can’t stand you—you and your fake personality, acting all bubbly and sweet, cheering him on, always telling him to do his best—condescending little bitch acting like everyone’s friend—like he doesn’t see through you right to your rotten core. You don’t fool him—he knows you’re as bad as the rest of them, so just quit pretending like you’re better or something.

You’re under the false impression that the two of you are friends. You just think he has a strange sense of humor, but you laugh politely even when you don’t always get the joke.

Well, maybe it’s not so much politeness, but the fact that you have a big fat hopeless crush on him.

It infuriates him. He throws your niceties back in your face as insults, and you just laugh. How low do you think of him? Honestly? How tall is that high horse of yours that you have your head constantly in the clouds?

Poor you… you just think he’s so cool—always saying what he feels like, not a lame people-pleasing goodie-two-shoes such as yourself. You can’t help but follow him around like a lost puppy all day long. You’re always making sure you sit next to him during lectures—heart almost beating out of your chest, holding back from squealing when your prayers are answered, and the two of you are finally paired for a project together. 

It really feels like the universe is on your side, and so you just can’t stop yourself from going the full mile—making chocolates and preparing him a hand-written love letter. You know he’ll think you’re a little silly, that he’ll make fun of you for it—but you can’t expect to get anywhere without putting your heart on the line, can you? For a chance at love, the risk must be worth it!

Yeah, you’re such a hopeless romantic—you feel it as he punches his fist through your ribs when he rips out your poor heart and stomps all over it. 

“I fucking get it already! You’re little miss pretty and popular. Would you quit rubbing it in my face, or do I really have to spell it out for you? I. Don’t. Fucking. Like. You,” he seethes through grit teeth. “Go pick another one of the hundreds dying to be your partner and leave me the fuck alone!”

You shrink where you stand, shocked doe-eyes rapidly welling up like a flood, lips wobbling as you choke on your words, “Oh… okay… I’m sorry… I just… I–”

“You-you-you what?” he barks at your stuttering. “Spit it out already! What the fuck do you want?”

“I just-I-I just always thought you were amazing. So…”

His face contorts, scrunches up in a grimace different from anger, though not without it, as he spits out, “What the fuck are you on about now?”

But his voice is a little diminished now, with confusion usurping the place of his hate, suddenly feeling a little out of sorts because… what did you actually just say?

“I just, I really like you–” you repeat, hanging your head, only barely able to mumble through the tears blocking your throat. “But I guess I’ve just annoyed you all this time—I’m sorry...” 

Only now does he notice you’re trying to hand him something—a flat little box with a pink note attached. 

“This is for you, but I understand if you don’t want it.” Unable to look up, you just stretch your arms out until it gently bumps into him. 

Baffled, he accepts without thinking.

“I’m sorry—I’ll leave you alone from now on.” And then you run off, disappearing with a sob that all but shoots him through the chest.

And slowly bleeding out, he remains standing there, eyes glued to where you'd left—mouthing the word what…

What did you just say? 

Like? Him?

Did he mishear you, or did you just confess? 

No way—that can’t be it, right? 

But what the fuck is this heart-shaped letter, then?

"What the fuck did I just do?"

You look like you’ve been crying your eyes out all night the next day—your usual bubbly personality reduced to a ghost in a shell, walking the hallways like a zombie, slowly and without purpose, eyes on the ground—letting everyone bump into you.

You don't even so much as bat an eye when someone runs straight over you, fully knocking all your books and folders onto the floor. 

You just get on your knees and start recollecting them.

A newfound hate flares up within him at the sight. “Hey, you!" He stomps over. "Watch where the fuck you’re going next time, dipshit.” 

You look up at the sound of his voice—flinching before you notice it’s not directed at you.

No, rather, he’s got a boy up against the lockers, lifted by his collar onto the tip of his toes. Face only a few inches from his, glaring at him harsher than he’d glared at you yesterday.

“Now apologize to the girl before I punch your ugly face in.”

You stare at the altercation with large eyes, only able to blink as the boy who’d bumped into you starts spluttering on the verge of tears, “I–I’m sorry–I didn’t see you! Sorry!”

You don’t answer. Shocked and speechless, you remain on the floor in confusion, asking yourself why’s he doing this? Didn’t he cuss you out yesterday, or was it all a bad dream like you'd hoped?

He throws the boy on his way, then gets on his knees down alongside you—proceeding to help you gather your things.

You only watch on in wordless bewilderment until he starts muttering something under his breath.

“I’m sorry I made you cry yesterday.” He stacks all your things in a neat pile next to you while continuing his apology. “And for being an asshole. You didn’t deserve that.”

He keeps his eyes fixed to the floor where his hands busily roam around until there was nothing more to retrieve.

He then hesitantly looks up at you—eyes flittering—a little too ashamed to hold your gaze as he says, “Your chocolates were really good.”

That’s when your heart starts fluttering again—as if new life was just breathed in and revived it.

He can see it as well—how you light up like a rekindled candle.

“They were?” you gush, shuffling closer on your knees all excitedly—face brighter than the sun on cloudfree summer day.

It blinds him—nearly stunts him, only able to utter a meager, almost shy, “Yeah.”

He then slings his bag in front of him and pulls something out.

A lunchbox. 

“I made you these..." he swallows thickly. "As an apology…”

He’s utterly red—from the tips of his ears to his neck and entire face, even his hands.

“For me?”

“Yeah..." He reaches it over stiffly. “They’re not as good as yours, though...”

You eagerly accept despite his nervousness, popping the lid off where the two of you sit—right there in the middle of the hallway floor, with other students walking around you like water passing two rocks in a stream.

His blush grows ever more intense as you pick one of his crudely made chocolates up, not even examining it before throwing one into your mouth.

It was his first time making anything that required a recipe. And they most certainly did not come out well, but he figured the embarrassment was part of his atonement.

He didn’t actually expect you to try them.

But there you are—lying through your teeth, saying, “I think they’re great!”

He can only scoff out a soft laugh. “Of course you would.” 

Turns out, you really are just a nice person after all. You don’t have the heart to be mean at all, do you? Yeah, you don’t even have it in you to feel any of the ugly things he keeps inside. In fact, he bets you don’t even have the means of knowing such ugly things exist.

That must be what he’s envied about you all this time…

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Shinso ♡ JJK – virgin Sukuna, Megumi ♡ HQ – Tsukishima ♡ BLLK – Rin, Sae ♡ DS – Genya

Greed is your clingy childhood friend. 

He doesn’t want to share you with anyone and gets viscerally jealous each time you hang out with others. It’s as if he feels boils rising beneath his skin, simmering with a violent need to kill anyone and everyone you ever come into contact with—even if it’s just a passerby who accidentally brushes against you.

He can’t stand other people—how they think they can just come along and be your friend when he’s been your friend since you both were in diapers. What? Do they really expect him to share you with them? Just like that? No way. You’re his best friend. They should all go find themselves their own.

Actually, the term best friend doesn’t even really cut it… It’s a little too childish. You’ve both grown out of it. And besides, it never really fully encompassed what the two of you actually are to each other. You’re so much more than just friends, after all. Yeah, what you really are is soulmates. Yeah, that sounds more right. Soulmates.

And the bond between soulmates is like the bond between an addict and their favorite drug. You wouldn’t ask an addict to share his favorite drug, now would you? No. Not unless you’re prepared to either kill or be killed.

But he can’t say he blames them for wanting you, either. Of course, they’d want you—anyone would.

He pities them, actually. And you make it no better for the poor suckers, stringing them all along—acting as if there’s enough of you to go around. Well, there just isn’t. And even if there was, he shouldn't have to share you with anyone.

Yeah, the problem here is you. You don’t get it, do you? You don’t understand that you’re his. 

Well… seems like he’ll just have to teach you once and for all, now, doesn’t it?

“What’s… this?” you mumble groggily once you wake, sluggishly tugging your bound wrists—not yet aware of what they are. Your eyes blow wide once you do—voice turning sharply frantic, “What’s happening?”

“We’re having a play date like we used to.” He comes into view just as the panic sets in—and though his face has all the familiarity to be a sign of comfort, his words evoke no such feeling within you.

“Remember? How we used to play house?" he says. "Granted, we're a little older now… so I thought I’d change it up a bit.”

He stands before the bed you’re currently lying tied down on. But he doesn’t look like himself. No, there’s something very wrong about all of him. Seeming way too at ease for the situation.

“Instead of making mud pies…” he continues. “I'm gonna fuck you and give you a creampie.”

Your heart lurches up into your throat at his words, and you choke. Your clothes from the day have been removed, leaving you naked. You spot them lying on the floor in a heap while you spastically look around for clues as to “What the fuck’s going on? This isn’t funny–”

“Shut up,” he says—his demeanor still as nonchalant as he climbs on top of you and pushes something past your lips, nudging it deep down in your throat.

Feeling it as it scrapes your tongue, you can tell it’s your lace panties, and you gag—shaking your head, trying to dislodge both it and his fingers, but he holds you steady.

“I have things to say. So, be a good friend and listen.”

You start crying then—brows cinched as you look up at him in terror, full-tremoring now while struggling under his weight and the all-too-intimate way he starts touching you.

“I'm glad you’re still a virgin…” he suddenly says, running his hands down your breasts, catching your nipples between his fingers.

You twist in disgust, halfway convinced you’re having some godawful fucked up dream—that this just can’t be happening—but somehow, at the same time, something deep in your gut that’s been lying there for a while ignored by your kind heart doesn't find it completely without warning, having felt how strange he'd been acting as of late—always looking at you a certain way and saying certain concerning things—certain concerning things he’s saying right now, “I’d kill all those little toy friends of yours if you were ever so stupid to let them have it.”

He glares at you—looking every bit angry, and yet you can’t describe it exactly. Something about that look in his eyes makes him seem like a complete stranger to you. Then he cracks a smile, and it makes it all the worse. Bowing down until his forehead presses clean against yours, noses rubbing against each other.

“But I think you knew. Didn’t you? Knew how it wouldn’t be right. Knew it was mine to take.”

He shuffles backward until he’s separating your thighs instead of straddling your waist. And you croak with an especially full-chested sob as his touches travel further down along with him—with savage goosebumps running rampant across your body once he rubs his thumb crassly over your slit.

“You see?” his breath shudders in his throat—thick with something mortifying that’s bound to ruin you forever. “It’s so happy to see me.”

You whine and scramble, trying to force your thighs shut—but he has the upper hand—keeping you spread with his body while two of his fingers slip through your lips and bully themselves inside.

He pumps them in and out with zero regard to how you recoil—only sneering at the way you worm in disgust, “At least your pussy understands where its loyalties lie.”

It’s not long before his ministrations draw wetness, and he pulls them out—inspecting them in the dim light he’s left on. Rubbing the digits together before putting them in his mouth.

You close your eyes with a whimper while listening to the sickening sounds of him sucking them clean.

He puts both hands around your neck next. He doesn't squeeze hard, but your breath stops nonetheless. Eyes stinging with both spent and still-welling tears.

“I’m upset with you,” he states, brushing his lips over your parted ones, still stuffed and silenced with your own underwear. “But I’ll forgive you if you apologize and swear to me that you meant it when you said we’d be friends forever.”

That look in his eyes—you still can’t explain it. Desperate, desolate, deranged, and enraged—something downright sick.

“But since you can’t talk right now, you’ll have to prove it some other way...”

One of the hands disappears, and you hear the following sounds of a zipper being undone, then the rustling of his pants being shoved down.

“Cum on my cock, and I’ll know.”

The room tastes of blood and something rotten as he frees his cock and graces your clit.

“Actions speak louder than words anyway, after all, don’t they? So cum on my cock, and I’ll cum in your pussy, so we can seal our friendship again—just like the time we married each other on the playground.” 

He enters you, and you think you might just die in the mix of horror and grief.

And yet you remain perfectly alive—even as he rips through you and splits both you and your heart apart.

“You can think of this as the honeymoon,” he whispers. “Always and forever, happily ever after, never apart.”

♡ BNHA – Deku ♡ JJK – Gojo, Yuuta ♡ HQ – Tendou ♡ BLLK – Bachira ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Nirei

♡ HEAVENLY VIRTUES ♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[radaverse]

Thank you for your apology Gin, it's great to see you acknowledge your mistakes and work hard to change. I'm glad to see you've been getting help and support

I understand why you acted like you did in my server, I myself have some deep rooted fear of rejection and loneliness too so I know how it feels True that I did feel under a lot pressure often back then as it is my job to keep the place comfy and safe for everyone in it, sometimes I nor my mod friends knew what to do so that's why we took a decision back then. We ended up pretty shaken up but we've been doing alright Like skl said, I can't just say "I forgive you for everything" as I didn't go through most things others went in this situation and can't speak for others But regarding what happened directly to me, I think it's time I just let bygones be bygones I think. I was never a woman to hold a grudge, even less if I see you've been working hard on improving Thank you for this, I can tell your apology is sincere and you really wish to fix everything that happened. I hope you continue taking care of your mental health and making sure your future interactions with friends are people are healthy and safe for you and everyone involved

Hello, this is Gin, As in NewGin, I need to talk about what I’ve done in the Pizza tower community...

I’ve been far too parasocial, far too clingy, to the point of crossing boundaries and making others uncomfortable. I’ve never made an apology like this before; I’ll be honest about everything. I can only explain what was going through my head at that time, but none of it is a justification, it never will be, and I can only work on it to prevent all of this from happening again.

My previous account was deleted out of guilt and panic, and I kept checking others accounts then in late March, only to see what those who blocked said about me, I wanted to know what I was doing wrong then, but it only crossed boundaries again. And it led to further spiraling until someone sat down and spoke to me, I was too upset to think, I hurt so many fans in the community, and I wanted to fix things fast then than give it more thought and time. I was too impulsive and panicked, and it only made things worse.

For the last several months, I’ve been talking and thinking about what happened with professionals. The majority concluded That there was no malice involved, but I suffered from “dependency disorder”, a disorder in which you constantly rely on others for assurance or fear of being alone. And I was afraid of being alone more than anything. This has gone undiagnosed for years, and considered to have maladaptive skills. I’m currently still in group therapy to practice better boundaries, learning how to manage stress, anxiety and panic. Better coping skills I never bothered to learn out of fear of change. I never wanted anyone to be emotionally hurt, I constantly fear accidentally hurting people because of my social skills, I’m aware how damn oblivious I am, and it hurts how so much of this could have been avoided if I bothered to learn healthier skills sooner, it’s my fault everyone is hurt, It’s my fault I’m like this. No one else is at fault.

I kept breaking boundaries in thoughts of “maybe like this its ok?, maybe this can be an exception if I can make it work like this?” And other times it is just barging in freaking out without considering the person’s feelings. None of what I did was healthy for those involved.

I’m horrified with how many I’ve hurt, I gave so much trouble to everyone, I’m sorry for putting so much pressure on you when I struggled with communicating to others, I’m sorry for coming into your dms when I was panicking, and used you as a therapist, a sort of security blanket. I’m sorry, I took so long to get help. I thought that after getting advice, I would instantly know not to make that mistake again, but I’ve should have taken time to sit down and think about it more than panicking to fix things or avoid my own uncomfortable thoughts. I’m so sorry I put you through so much crap instead of looking to a therapist, you told me multiple times to take it to them, but I feared so much they wouldn’t understand, I…I never bothered trying out of fear and ended up hurting you more. I kept crossing your boundaries when you were so patient with me, and I took it for granted rather than getting proper help. I’m still getting help, and its been a good progress but I still need more to do with the program. I understand if you don’t forgive after my behavior. I hope you’re doing alright. And I hope the future is kind to you.

I’m sorry Dingle, for getting you involved. I’m sorry for putting gore in your fic, I didn’t think at the time it would hurt, because to me, it was mild...but it still hurt you. I really did think at the time that peppino sacrificing his own chance at a cure to cure his adopted kid ( dingles oc) while getting himself injured showcased how peppino is willing to go through hell to help his kid. a character going through hell but having a happy ending, but in my excitement, I didn't realize how hurtful it was to write such angst of their comfort character without their permission. I’m sorry I vented my fears to you.  I really shouldn’t have interacted with them as nervous and panicky as I was, I shouldn’t have said “oh your uncomfortable? Maybe I’ll cancel the fic then :(“ though that wasn’t meant to be guilt tripping but me being sad because I liked the concept, but I said it guilt trippy. I shouldn’t have interacted with my self-esteem and emotional instability. It got them hurt, confused, and traumatized. I never wanted them hurt or feel used. I thought I was being a friend with sharing small vents. But I should have stepped away. They probably wouldn’t be as hurt today. And it wasn’t exclusive to them, my instability and low self-esteem made others “emotional care givers” I’m sorry I went in others dms and get others involved, adults and teens alike in my nervous breakdowns, and constantly seeking validation. I honestly thought it was normal to share distress to a certain extent with people you knew, but I was too over trusting, and it put pressure on the same people I looked up to. I was maladaptive.

I’m also sorry for sharing private conversations with others in forms of text or screenshots, the intent, in my perspective then, was to avoid misunderstandings, as I felt I poorly explained things or poorly understood what the messages were saying due to be aware of my own autism, a part of that reassurance aspect handled in the worst way. It made people instead feel they were only getting side of the issue, not to mention a breach of trust and privacy as they did not consent to these. This was not the correct way for me to handle those situations at all, and I will never do it again, I’m sorry.

I never wanted drama, slander or harm. I just wanted to be a part of the Pizza Tower community, I saw people sharing art and making art for others in the PT community, and I thought, hey I like their characters and ocs and art. Maybe I can write for them, I can’t draw so why not write for them. I want to do nice things for others fans, make friends with people share my creations and make people come together and be happy.  I wanted fans to get along with each other, I wanted to bring everyone closer together as a fandom, I wanted to be part of it.  But all I ended up doing was being parasocial and clingy and hurt everyone, I just wanted to make friends, I just wanted everyone happy. And I was stupid about it.

 I thought I was making friends by writing those fics, but despite truly liking those ocs , and respecting those artists, was more of a seal of friendship than building a natural friendship. What I thought was a kind gesture was crossing a boundary. And it put those creators in uncomfortable positions. Not on

This fandom made me so happy that whenever I saw someone lose interest or leave, I felt scared I would lose that happiness. It’s also why I reacted to people leaving Rads server. I also tried to make sure people got along and felt scared when people fought or were angry with each other and would share it with those who knew another, out of fear of people breaking apart. To keep the peace, I didn’t want people to misunderstand each other because I knew how scary that feeling was. And I saw myself in turn, being so intent to be happy and checking on people if they were ok, as annoying.  None of this is an excuse, I got too invasive and involved. In wanting to make friends and felt liked and belonging as well, I got too nervous that I was stressing people out and panicked, asking if I was annoying them. And yet I kept doing it just to be liked and validated. Because I feared being disliked and alone more than anything in the world, and developed unhealthy coping habits I feared to stop, afraid to develop healthy ones only fearing “what if the healthy ones won’t work? The current one can’t be hurting anyone.” They did, and it snowballed to what lead up to this.

I was selfish in trying to avoid paranoia and keep myself happy without taking another’s feelings into consideration. I will no longer be doing such and will keep it completely between my therapists. And the reason I didn’t before, is I feared they wouldn’t understand fandom or my fears well.

I kept wanting others happiness but also my own, and it conflicted with each other, and I got selfish. Sometimes you have got to sacrifice your own happiness to make others happy, but I wanted both. And it made me controlling just to have both.

It’s been scary writing this all out, I have autism, anxiety disorder, but its not an excuse. I can’t undo what I did, I wish I could, knowing how many people I hurt, But I can move forward with healthier skills I’ve gained and learned from Group therapy and the therapist. Though I tend to fear the unknown when it comes to the future. I won’t be doing what I did before for certain. After all what happened, I understand if you guys don’t want to forgive me, I still can’t forgive myself. But I never want to hurt anyone like that again. I want to be a better person.

I don’t know what to do from here, I'm still in group therapy for healthier skills so I can be a better person and never do this again. I don’t know if I’ll come back here. I understand if I’m wanted gone. I can only say sorry so many times. But I hope everyone can be at peace.

[queer-obsession]

You watch him finishing washing the dishes while you sit at the counter. It's quiet, but not like the uncomfortable quiet of a few hours ago after you two fought. You had had dinner and talked it over, smoothing things out. Typically, your communication is pretty good so your fights rarely last more than a few hours. "You don't yell," You say out loud before you can stop yourself. That was supposed to be an inner thought, but oh well.

He pauses for a moment before going back to drying off the dishes. "There's no reason to. It's unnecessary," He responds like it's the most simple thing in the world. "It's not like you yell either," He adds as he opens the cabinet to put the dishes away.

You blink for a moment as you watch his back. "I've yelled at you before," You reply, though ashamed to admit it.

He shakes his head and sighs. "Not since we first started dating and I learned quickly you only yell when you feel cornered or challenged," He tells you as the plates slide into their proper spot. "If I don't escalate then you don't either." He speaks as if analyzing you is the simplest thing he's ever done.

You don't know how to respond to that or the fact that he knows you so well. So, you simply sit there, at the island, as he puts away the last of the dishes before he closes the cabinet and turns to you. "It's kinda weird though," You say before you can stop yourself. "That you rarely raise your voice."

He simply raises an eyebrow as he sets the dish towel on the counter. "It's not weird. What's weird is when you scream at your partner thinking it will solve anything," He replies calmly as he walks over to the island and sets his elbows on it. "It's loud, counterproductive, unnecessary, and just prolongs everything. I have no need to do it." The way he says it makes it seem like common sense and it is, but sometimes it's hard to remember that.

You trace your finger across the island before reaching for his hand across from you. "I don't either," You whisper as you lace your fingers. He nods and squeezes your hand in response and just like that, everything feels so easy and so right.

-----

AIZAWA, Todoroki, Kirishima, IZUKU, Shinsou (mha), AKAASHI, Kenma, KITA, Ushijima, IWAIZUMI (hq), NANAMI (jjk), Erwin, Armin (aot), GIYUU, OBANAI, GYOMEI, RENGOKU (kny), Chris (daiya), and your favorites <3

[vinnyvamppp]

may i perchance request rex x fem!reader x eve? like set s1 where instead of cheating, rex learns to COMMUNICATE with eve and they start picking up girls together #couplegoals

Two's Company, Three's Dangerous

Note: I love this??? Its healing the annoyance I felt for Rex in season one. This is my canon now. (Mark in the bg LMFAOOO)

Warnings: Suggestive themes & flirtation, Strong language, Corny Dialogue (I cackled), Mild Sexual Tension, Changes For Plot Convenience, Threesome dynamic, etc.

Synopsis: Three’s not a crowd—it’s foreplay. When Rex and Eve decide to start pulling girls together, they don’t expect you to walk in and flip the game on its head. Now you're all tangled in teasing, tension, and a whole lot of trouble they can't stop chasing.

Rex Splode x Atom Eve x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,196

It starts the same way most of Rex’s ideas do: loud, impulsive, and almost immediately a bad idea. “Look, all I’m saying is—it’s not cheating if we’re both in on it.” Rex lounges on Eve’s couch, tossing popcorn into his mouth like he’s solving world peace instead of pitching a threesome. “You’ve gotta admit, you miss flirting.” She shoots him a look. “I miss the fire.” That makes him pause. “I miss feeling like I was… chasing something. Not just bad guys, but possibility. Something new.” She shifts slightly. “Now we suit up, save the world, come home. Lather, rinse, repeat. And I love you, but…” He quirks a brow. “You’re bored.” “I’m craving something,” she admits. “And I don’t know what it is, but it’s not this.” Rex sits up, tossing the remote aside. “So let’s find it. Or her. Whatever the hell you’re talking about, we’ll chase it together.” She blinks. “You’re okay with that?” “Eve.” He gives a crooked grin, head tilting. “You think I’d turn down the chance to pick up girls with you? This could be the best idea I’ve ever had.” She narrows her eyes. “Your best idea was a flamethrower guitar.” “Exactly.” He claps his hands. “We’re overdue for something fuckin’ unhinged.” Three bars and a rooftop mixer later, Eve is regretting everything. Everyone they meet is either desperate, oblivious, or already half in love with Rex before they realize Eve is part of the package and not just a bystander. He’s charming, yeah, but in that loud, golden-retriever-who-sells-vape-pens way. And Eve, despite herself, tries. She leans in. She smiles. She even lets Rex do that thing where he says they’re “taking applications.” Nothing. And then you show up.

They stared, completely enamored. You exuded a boisterous confidence that demanded attention. The smooth sheen of your skin glistened under the dim lights, while your hips swayed slightly with allure. Your hair framed your delicate features, and the sound of your heels clicked loudly against the bar floor as their vision tunneled. The most striking detail, however, came from your eyes. Though your appearance was delicate—almost cute—the intense glare held within them was distinctly predatory. You don’t look at them right away. You order your drink, slow and unhurried, like you’ve done this before—like you enjoy making people wait. You don’t need to scan the room to know you’re being watched. Until your gaze drags over Rex first, unimpressed, then lingers on Eve for a little too long. You can feel the energy shift, like a current humming between you three. Rex elbows Eve lightly. “Holy, shit. Target acquired. Did you see that?” Eve snorts into her drink. “You’re imagining things.” “Nah, nah—don’t gaslight me, Eve. That was a full-body scan. I’ve watched less intense security checks at the airport.” “She’s gonna eat you alive,” Eve murmurs, lips curving. “That’s half the fun.” You finally turn, catching their eyes in one lazy glance. You take in the matching drinks, the too-casual spacing between them, and the subtle lean of Eve’s leg angled toward Rex’s. The way they’re utterly entangled in one another yet insistent with their gaze.

It starts small. A glance that lingers too long. A hand reaching for a drink at the same time, knuckles brushing, and neither of you moving away. Eve’s smile grows when you mirror the way she tips her glass, when your tongue flicks out to taste the rim like hers just did. Rex catches it, that silent mimicry, and his gaze drags across both of you—lazy, appraising, and somewhat hungry. No one says anything, but the air feels heavier with each breath. You cross your legs; Eve mirrors you.

Rex licks his lips. You’re not touching, not yet, but tension is definitely pressing in between the silence and the smirks. Rex’s hand slides lazily across the back of Eve’s chair, fingers brushing her bare shoulder like he’s just resting them there, but there’s nothing casual about the way she shifts into the contact. It was a performance. Despite their prior arguing, the two shared heated kisses, all to entice.

Your voice cuts through the teasing. “So,” you say, smiling slowly to yourself, “you two scouting or just bored?” Rex grins like he’s been caught red-handed. “Depends. You offering a distraction?” “I’m offering nothing,” you reply, sipping your drink. “But I am very curious.” Eve watches you now, like really watches. The way your confidence settles around you like a silk robe. The way your eyes flicker, assessing and amused. You’re dangerous in a way that doesn’t need powers. “What are you curious about?” she asks. You lean in slightly as if sharing a secret. “You two always argue like a divorced couple, or am I just lucky tonight?” “Oh, fuck you—“ Rex sputters. Eve just laughs—low and unexpected. It startles her, that you got under her skin so fast. That she wants to hear more. “You’re quick,” she says. “And you’re not subtle,” you reply, tapping her glass. “Next time you flirt, try not to stare at my mouth the whole time.” Rex whistles. “Okay. Damn.”

Eve just blinks. Slowly. Then exhales, smiling like you’re a puzzle she’s already halfway solved. “What’s your name?”

You tell her. Rex repeats it under his breath like a prayer. “Goddamn. Even the name’s hot.” You toss him a look. “Careful, I bite.” He grins. “Yeah, well, I bark, whimper, and fuck. Match made in heaven, right?” Eve sighs into her cocktail. “Please stop talking.” You slide off the stool, slow and deliberate. “I’m not a prize,” you say. “But I might be worth the chase. So, earn it.” You lean in, pressing a kiss to Rex’s cheek—mock-sweet, just enough to short-circuit him while your fingers drag slowly down Eve’s wrist, leaving a shiver in their wake. Both of them wear matching smirks, the kind that try too hard to cover how rattled they are. Without waiting for a word, you turn on your heel and strut toward the exit, leaving heat in your wake and satisfaction in your step. You’ve had your fun. For now.

Rex insisted on a steakhouse. Eve tried to veto it. You suggested sushi just to see who’d squirm harder. In the end, you’re all at a loud fusion place with flashing neon and absolutely no privacy. Perfect. “So,” you say, picking at an appetizer with elegant fingers. “What’s your strategy? Good cop, bad cop? Hot mess and stone-cold killer?” Eve smirks. “I’m not cold.” “You’re ice in heels,” you counter, and she looks… pleased? Rex coughs. “And I’m the hot mess?” “You’re wearing sunglasses indoors.” “I’m mysterious.” “You’re hungover.” You’re winning. Every line lands. Every glance makes Rex stammer or Eve flush. You lean forward, drink in hand, and say things with a smile that could kill. You never touch them, but the way you look at them? It’s almost worse. Eve watches you, not even pretending to hide it anymore. She likes the control you have. Likes the way you disarm her without even trying. She finds herself mimicking your posture, drinking when you drink. She’s leaning too close. And for once? She doesn’t care. Rex, on the other hand, is falling apart. “I don’t get it,” he mutters. “You’ve roasted me for two hours straight, and I still want you to like me.” “I do like you,” you say sweetly. “I just like watching you sweat more.” Eve hides her laugh in a sip of water. As the night winds down, Rex finally blurts, “So… do we get a second date?” You lean back, fingers tapping your glass. “You haven’t earned it yet.” He groans. “But,” you add, sliding your phone across the table, “you could try again.” You stand, this time with intent. Eve’s eyes follow every move. You brush past her chair, fingertips grazing her shoulder—not enough to be a promise. Just enough to be a reminder. Then you're gone. Again. And they are left there, dazed and enchanted. Rex slumps. “She’s gonna wreck us.” Eve smiles, slow and dangerous. “I hope so.” A/N: I cringed a few time too, I know, but to be cringe is to be free 🐎

[jojosbingsu]

When &Team Members Are Your Boyfriend

Admin: Ellie

Genre: Fluff, Wholesome | NO Smut, NSFW. | Minors can interact.

Pairing: gn!reader x Teamies (OT9)

Word Count: 3.04K

Notes: If you would like to request something, please find your way onto the blog to make your request~! Feedback is always welcomed. ^u^

EJ 🍊

He's terrible at flirting because he always gets flustered when you flirt back, but he tries his best. His intentions are always good but he usually flirts through saying something you'd hear in a cliche rom-com film.

He's always a giggly mess whenever you're complimenting him. Teasing him is an incredibly easy thing to do and he will fall into it every single time. He becomes a blushy, giggly mess that tries to hide his bright red face away from you.

He buys you expensive gifts as his way to show love and admiration for you. Jewelry seems to be his favorite gift form and he always circles back around to it whenever he feels like you deserve a nice little treat from him. Whenever you wear a necklace or pair of earrings he's bought for you, he will just grin lovingly and say something like "I knew it would look stunning on you!"

LOOOOOVES kiss attacks. If you don't want your face smooched to the end of time, you've better get to hiding it! Euijoo loves to place pecks all over your cheeks and forehead when you're laying in bed together or whenever you're trying to help him cook something. It's probably his favorite thing to do because he knows you'll rarely complain about it. Bonus: Do it to him and watch him absolutely beam with joy and affection. He is the actual embodiment of the word "happiness."

Probably the most comforting boyfriend someone could ever ask for. He's very communicative about his feelings and always open to hearing your feelings as well. He would do anything within his power to make you feel better when he's done something that upset or hurt you. - If someone else has hurt you, he always knows exactly what to say to make everything feel better. He is the master of solving emotional issues and bringing comfortability into the relationship.

Fuma 🦸‍♂️

Wearing matching Pokémon pajamas is a requirement if you're going to be in a relationship with Fuma. If you expect snuggles before bed, you'd better hope to god that you're wearing whatever ridiculous pajama set or onesie he pulled out of his closet for you.

Cuddling up in bed on the weekends to watch movies is his ideal type of 'date.' He would lay with his arms wrapped loosely around you, a content smile always resting on his face, a light blush probably creeping onto his cheeks if you lay your head on his chest or snuggle your face close to his while enjoying the movie.

Cooking together is an activity he would absolutely NEVER say no to. He thinks it's so much fun to stand in the kitchen and try to match recipes you found on Google or TikTok together. He loves to give you backhugs whenever you're chopping vegetables or standing to wash your hands. One thing you should know though, he likes to get the first taste of everything just so it's perfect before you bite into anything.

He loves to tell you about his dreams as soon as he wakes up in the morning. His sleepy grumbles, mumbles, and chuckles seem to be the best thing to help start your day. He always asks what you dreamed of the night before as well and will somehow try to find a way to make the dream-talk a breakfast date.

Play any kind of Switch game with him and he's absolutely becoming a mushy, soft mess, especially if you need his help learning the controls. His favorite game to play with you would probably be Animal Crossing, as he could shower you with cute gifts he crafted or traded away on his island.

K 👑

This man absolutely adores you. There's nothing more important to Kei than you. He looks at you like you're the one who cast all of the stars into the sky above his head. If God created anyone perfectly by hand, it's you.

He's an attentive listener. He loves to lounge lazily on the couch and listen to you talk about your day. He asks a lot of questions just so the conversation doesn't have to end so soon. He's almost like your personal diary at some point. He's just an easy and comfortable person to talk to.

Protective and slightly possessive boyfriend. He is not controlling by any means but he does get obviously possessive over you if he feels that someone is coming onto you in front of him. He mostly reaches to hold you close or stands in between you and whoever is making him feel antsy in his spot. Protective boyfriend is a given. Yudai, though not a violent guy, would absolutely put a smackdown on someone if he felt it was necessary to keep you safe.

He's almost like your not-house-husband. This man doesn't let you do anything to pick up around your own house. If he's there, you're going to sit down and relax and he will take care of whatever has been bothering you. Laundry pile bugging you? No problem, it's folded while you're watching a movie together and put away before he goes home. Got some dishes needing to be done after eating dinner? Don't even think about it, he's on top of the issue and the dishes are drying before you can even reach for a sponge. Sometimes you have wonder if you accidentally hired a maid instead of getting a boyfriend.

He waits up for you if you've been out. He's a natural-born worrier who will keep a close eye on his phone in case you need to give him a text or call. He's always telling you to text him when you've gotten to your destination(s) safely and he will stay up all night waiting for the text message or waiting to see you. Even if you insist that he gets rest, he will stay up and wait patiently to make sure you don't need him to come get you.

Nicholas 🍓

Annoying in such an endearing way. He teases you nonstop because he loves to hear your gentle giggles and watch as your cheeks heat up a nice red color because of his antics

Romantic as all get out. He looooves to buy you small gifts like flowers or candies and he's all about the lifestyle of taking you shopping as a date. Going shopping with you is one of his favorite ways to spend time with you and he will call it a "date" every time.

Taking photos of you is his number one hobby. On a date? Fifteen photos. Sleeping comfortably in his bed? About sixty photos. -- No matter the occasion, you can be certain his entire camera roll is nothing but photos of you.

He sleeps most comfortably if you guys are cuddled up close to one another. He almost cocoons the two of you in his blankets whenever you stay the night at his place. He likes you hug you tightly and rest with his head lightly pressed against yours. He sometimes plays soft music when he's falling asleep but if he knows it bothers you, he will just mumble soft stories to you (mostly to himself) until he's fallen asleep.

Financially irresponsible but only because he loves to spoil his lover. He will buy you anything you say you want or hint at liking. If you guys are shopping together and see a pair of shoes you barely hint at liking, they're already tucked up under his arm and he's probably grabbing a second pair just in case the first ones get ruined. You like a design on a shirt? It's yours and he's not taking arguments. You often contemplate hiding his wallet from him or wearing a pair of sunglasses whenever you're shopping with him so he stops purchasing everything you look at. Anytime you fuss at him for spending so much money on you, he will get sulky and tell you "but I just like to see you happy, you wouldn't take that away from me, right?" -- And then you're left in a dilemma of either watching the dude drain his bank account or letting him sulk and drag his feet all day because you told him NO for once.

Yuma 🐱

Yuma would be such a cute boyfriend. He would be kind of shy whenever he tries to flirt with you and he always bursts into a fit of soft, nervous giggles whenever you lean in to give him kisses.

He always sends you the cutest selfies whenever you're not together. He loves to send you pouty photos with "it's less fun without you here" attached, or he will send a photo of something cute and silly with "I thought of you" sent right after.

Plushies are how he shows his love for you. Everywhere he goes, he buys you a new stuffed animal to toss onto your bed. It's getting to the point where there's not enough space for you in the bed because the stuffed animals are starting to take over but he cares not one bit. He would buy an entire house just for stuffed animal storage if he had the funds to do so.

Sharing clothes is something Yuma likes to do. If you have a cute shirt he knows will fit him, it's not your shirt anymore. If you want to steal a jacket or pair of jeans of his out of his closet, he'd never complain. He'd tell you that you look better than he does in whatever article of clothing it is.

He loves to share earbuds with you. Listening to music together is something simple that makes him feel more connected to you. He likes when you guys take turns picking the next song in the queue to listen to together. He always makes sure he brings a back up pair of earbuds in case the first pair ever dies in the middle of a small jam session.

Jo 🍚

Holding hands is his favorite form of intimacy. To Jo, there's nothing sweeter and more endearing than offering your hand to him and just allowing him to hold it tightly within his own. His thumb is always caressing the side of your hand lovingly, especially if he's listening to you talk. It's his way of showing he cares and is listening to you.

Secretly a jealous boyfriend. Though he's shy in nature and would never outright tell you he's jealous when you're giving someone else more attention, it's obvious that he feels a little bit left out whenever your attention is on another friend over him. He gets a little bit pouty and always reaches to place gentle touches on your hand or thigh to remind you that he's there and would like attention, too.

Going out to a nice restaurant for dinner is his favorite form of date night. He loves to see you get dressed up really cute just for him! He will probably compliment you four hundred times before you even reach the restaurant and you keep catching him staring so lovingly at you while he's eating.

Jo is always trying to improve his drawing skills so he can gift you his art or impress you with what he produces. You've seen his sketchbook and have found that he's tried to sketch you a few times already but decided to restart because he didn't like how he'd made you look. He would become incredibly shy and embarrassed if he knew you saw those drawings, so you always pretend not to notice when he's admiring your face a bit more closely than usual, especially when the sketchbook is sitting comfortably in his lap.

Sleepy hammock cuddles when it's raining. Every time Jo knows it will rain, he finds his way to the hammock he's gotten set up on the balcony of his apartment to curl up with a nice book. Of course, once it starts to actually rain, Jo finds himself becoming sleepy and clingy! He almost always calls for you to come climb into the hammock with him so you guys can cuddle and listen to the rain together. Bonus points if you bring a blanket you guys can snuggle up under together. Extra bonus points if you tell him fun stories about your childhood or ask about when he was little and would play in the rain.

Harua 🐰

Surprising you with your favorite dessert is Harua's absolute favorite thing to do. Seeing you get excited because he showed up with your favorite ice cream or yogurt is something that brings him incredible joy.

He calls you pet names more often than calling you by your real name. Sometimes you wonder if he knows your name isn't "sunshine" or "sweetie" because he's so allergic to calling your name.

Flirting isn't a thing with Harua. He's completely oblivious whenever you try to flirt with him and his attempts... Are bad. He thinks telling you he likes your shoes is flirting and he gets a little flustered when it doesn't work out so well. He can occasionally flirt to the point of making you blush but this happens rarely. More often than not, you just have to chuckle at him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

He loves to get his nails done with you. Even if all you get is your nails trimmed or a clear overcoat to make your nails shine, Harua loves to drag you out to a salon for special one on one time. Matching nails are his favorite thing, so if you decide to get a nail design, he will find a way to incorporate it on his own nail as well.

He insists on walking you home. It doesn't matter the time of day, where you live, or how far he will have to travel to get himself home, he wants to accompany you back to your home so he knows you got there safely. He always gives a gentle kiss on the nose before you part ways for the night and he stands patiently outside until he watches you get beyond the door. He never lets you walk alone, especially at night or during a storm and you can count on him to linger outside for a few minutes just to make sure you're safe, able to get inside easily, and weren't followed by anyone else.

Taki 🐣

Taki is a clingy boyfriend. He wants your attention almost all the time and feels lonely whenever you're not around. He's not overwhelmingly clingy, but he is the type who wants to touch you almost nonstop (hugging, holding your hand, playing with your hair, etc.) when you're together and he basically begs for your attention.

Karaoke dates almost every Friday night. He loves to hang out with you and eat yummy snacks while singing your favorite songs together. Duets are a favorite of his so you can also have a small dance together.

He is infatuated with you and thinks you're genuinely the coolest human being that's ever walked this planet. Whatever your favorite hobby is, he's in love with it simply because you are. He is forever going on about how cool he thinks you are to his friends and he loves to brag about the things you get up to. If you're an artist, he's showing off all of your art no matter what. If you make cute little bracelets, you better believe he will wear 5 at a time and talk endlessly about how you made them custom just for him. He's your #1 cheerleader always.

He would wear matching outfits with you. He thinks it's cute to wear matching colors or matching styles whenever you go out on a date together. If you're wearing blue, he will too. If you've got pink somewhere on your outfit, he will try to find a way to make something of his pink (or as close to it as possible) so you can have a cute "couple's outfit."

Taki's favorite thing about cuddling with you is the fact that he gets to be the little spoon. He loves to feel small when you guys cuddle up to watch movies or just to talk about your busy day. -- You always find that he puts his head right over your heart so he can listen to your heartbeat while you cuddle. If he's ever feeling particularly stressed out or upset, you know letting him listen to your heartbeat will soothe him and make everything feel better for a little while.

Maki 🐶

Maki loves to flirt with you. He is a master at flirting and making you blush. He always just grins and winks at you whenever your face is hot and red from his flirting and teasing. Even through text message, he finds a way to flirt and tease you until you're a blushing mess.

He talks about you all the time. Nonstop, he talks about you to his friends and family. He finds a way to bring you up in every conversation, even if it has little relevance to anything that's going on. The conversation could be about what his friends want for dinner and he'll but in with "well you know, y/n likes...." for no reason at all.

He brings you things that remind him of you at random times so you know he's always thinking about you. He mostly shows up with random candles or small throw blankets that had cute designs all over them.

Water gun battles are something that always take place when you're dating Maki. He will randomly pop up from behind the couch and just start shooting water at you before he scurries off to a different room before you can retaliate. Whenever you guys have been moody towards one another, he will offer you a water gun and tell you the first person to tap out has to apologize first. -- Of course, he ends up apologizing first, but the water gun fight is just a way he tries to bring the mood up and make things more lighthearted when you've both been a little grouchy towards one another.

Let's get one thing clear. If there's a bug, he's not getting it out of the house / room / area. He will scream like he's being ripped apart from the inside out and will in fact run to hide behind you if he sees anything resembling a bug or insect. Congratulations, reader, you're the exterminator of the relationship!

[daenysx]

hiiii I’m not sure if you take nsfw requests but I was thinking about if modern aemond’s gf was too stressed that it was taking longer for her to finish and she fakes her climax, how aemond would react? If you don’t do nsfw just maybe something similar where she is so stressed but won’t communicate it and his reaction when she hides it from him?

soft!aemond is back!! i mean kind of lol. i really hope you like this, i'm taking nsfw requests if you have any, thank you for requesting! <333 (title is from a lana del rey song, the pics aren't mine i got them from pinterest)

wc: 2.9k

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, smut ♡ (also fluff, tiny tiny bit of angst?)

burning desire

aemond is in a good mood this evening.

the summer rain hits the window, you kiss your boyfriend to the sound of rain. aemond's body is a nice weight against your body. he kisses you calmly, long fingers rub the soft skin of your waist.

your head is full of things these days. you try to stop overthinking, you're unable to sleep at nights, mindlessly scrolling your phone for hours just because you can't solve any problems. there's not much to solve, not really, you only have to wait to settle down with everything that keeps your mind busy. it's not so easy, though, you're impatient, sometimes eager to doubt yourself and every little decision you made. the stress weighs down on you. you focus on aemond's lips instead.

he's been out of town for the past week. now, he's on your bed with you laying under him. he doesn't say how much he missed you but the kisses are the proof of it. he makes little sounds, doesn't stop until you are desperate for breathing. he looks at you through a hazy eye, his pretty lips swollen and pinkish.

"i missed you." you mumble. "it's hard to deal with things without you."

aemond looks at you with an unreadable expression. you think he likes what you say, he enjoys how much you want him with you. he smiles slyly, fucking attractive, he's gonna test all your patience.

he holds the back of your neck without saying anything, fingers curled in your hair to pull your head back. your entire neck is exposed, you moan when he presses his lips on your pulse point. he gives you a big kiss, the kind of kiss you could lose your mind over. he doesn't leave a mark but it's still nice. his lips draw a line on your collarbone.

"i missed you, too." he says, quietly. "pretty girl."

his fingers play with the waistband of your shorts. the sound of thunderstorm is louder when you're both quiet. aemond pushes your tank top to your breasts, he kisses your belly. you push yourself against his mouth, feeling him loving on you is so nice. he plays with you until you arch your back, you look at him with widened eyes.

"please." you say. he kisses your hipbone.

"gotta tell me what you want." he says. "you know you won't get it otherwise."

his devilish smirk makes your thighs clench. you take a deep breath, your mind feels like it's full of empty bubbles. his touch is cool against your bare skin, he rubs the back of your thighs with his huge hands.

"i'm waiting." he says, gets on his knees on bed. "tell me."

you lift your hips to show what you want. "can you take it off?" you ask. you take your tank top off without asking him. his eye shines when he sees your bare chest.

"of course." he tells you, his fingers move on your shorts. "such a nice girl."

you get more and more impatient with each second. aemond takes off his shirt, your hands touch all the way on his chest to his happy trail. his hipbones are sharp against the fabric of his pants, your breathing quickens to the image of his defined muscles. you can see the outline of his half hard cock, aemond tilts his head back and groans when you touch him through his pants.

"wait." he says. "i'm not gonna last if you keep touching me like that."

you just squeeze him gently one last time. "you didn't even take your clothes off." you say cheekily. "i wanna touch you without them." you whisper.

aemond smiles. it's a perfect smile, his lips curved because of your obvious desire. he sees how hard your nipples get with chilly air of the room, your panties getting wetter as you touch him, your eyes have the look of want and something different in them. he is quick to get rid of his clothes as you wish. you don't move until he gets back on top of you, only the thin fabric of your panties separates you from his cock.

he kisses you for a good minute. you cup his cheeks, happy to hide from the world with his long hair falling around your face. he presses himself to your center, it feels different than it used to. you don't know the reason, maybe you missed him too much, maybe your body tries to remember how his touch affects you. he's more patient than you, even though it's clear how much he needs to release.

"aemond." you mumble, wrapping your legs around his waist at the same time.

"hmm?" he sucks your jawline softly. he's so pretty, you think you'll lose your mind.

"i feel like-" you start, unable to finish any thought. your mind is too full these days. "can you please do something?"

you press yourself harder against him with the last piece of strength you could find. aemond pushes your panties aside. your cunt glints with the wetness but he still wants to prepare you. "it's okay." he reassures you. your eyes are closed, like you're trying to focus. "you just gotta be patient for me, okay?"

you nod. aemond thinks you might be the sweetest thing in his world. he pushes a finger inside you gently with his thumb on your clit. you moan silently, your body needs to relieve the tension, it keeps you awake every night. aemond moves his finger slowly, getting as many sounds from you as he can to guide himself. you part your legs for him, he settles down.

you feel like you're lost in the feelings he gives you. it's weird for a second then it's not. he pushes a second finger in, the stretch is tight but he likes it very much when you clench around him. "aemond, hmm-" you make incoherent sounds. you hold his face to kiss him as his fingers work inside you.

"do you feel good?" he asks. "is it good, baby?"

fuck, you love it so much when he calls you baby. you nod, saying yes three times. his touch is fire, you don't escape. he is hard against your leg, so hard, so bold. you moan again, your brain goes through a haze.

aemond keeps fingering you, his thumb rubs your clit with circles. the touch is nice to feel, you tilt your head back when it gets unbearable. he smiles wickedly as you keep saying his name. you look like you're lost in him.

"are you gonna come for me?" he asks with slow words against your ear. you think you will. "gonna be my nice girl and come around my fingers?"

his words feel wonderful and for a second you really believe you'll come against his hand. you try to open your eyes, aemond keeps moving his fingers quicker. you think you need to push yourself against him to make your body relax. it'll work. it always does.

but then it doesn't. your body doesn't relax, it's still too tense, too tight. you make a sound as if you're coming, aemond's eye is closed. you don't know why it happens, you feel like somethin's wrong. it's never happened before. your voice is too real to him, for a second he actually believes you orgasmed. you don't say anything.

it feels like you'll disappoint him if you say it was fake. you didn't do it on purpose and your body surprised even you, you faked an orgasm for the first time with aemond. you feel upset for a moment, his fingers get still inside you. you put your poor body on bed, quit arching your back. your mind places walls between you and your pleasure.

your boyfriend opens his eye to your tired face. he pulls his fingers, giving you a smile. he's still undeniably hard but he doesn't move, waiting for you to say something.

"what-" he begins, you reach for his hand. "are you okay?"

you think he'll be upset to find out you faked your pleasure. he definitely would understand if you tell him but you still feel tired. you feel hungry for his touch, hungry for a piece of relief. you don't know how to control your mind, how to ease off your worries and all the stress you've been carrying.

"i'm okay." you say. you squeeze his fingers.

"i don't believe it." he says, sitting on bed. "you don't look okay, did i- did i hurt you?"

you shake your head quickly. "no, of course not. i would tell you, you know it."

"then what?" he asks. he pushes his hair back. "you never look like this after you come, i'm sure of it. you should tell me if something's wrong."

you force yourself to sit next to him. your hand is still holding his. "nothing's wrong." you begin, trying to find words. "it's just-"

aemond holds your cheek in his hand. "tell me." he demands softly.

"i was sure, i was gonna finish." you say. it's the truth. "but i couldn't, not really. i mean it felt good but-"

"you didn't finish." he completes. "but you sounded like-"

"i didn't mean to fake it, i promise." you say. "i thought it would be okay, like it always is but- it didn't, but i'd never fake it with you."

aemond's face is strange, like he's embarrassed. he's thinking. is it his fault? did he fail to take care of you? did you need to fake it to finish early? he likes giving you pleasure, he likes giving what you ask of him. he knows you trust him enough to let him take care of you, and he likes it so much when you take care of him. the bond between you two is something precious, it upsets him to see you unsure and sad about it.

"i should've prepared you better." he says. "maybe you weren't ready. i was fast."

"no." you say, kissing his cheek to get closer. "it's probably because i'm too much in my head these days. it's nothing to do with you, baby, you know stress can have these kind of effects."

"what's bothering you?" aemond asks gently. "why are you so stressed?"

"i don't know." you answer honestly. "i really don't. it's too many things about the school and other stuff, and you weren't here. it's easy to get lost in problems when you're not around."

he pulls you to his lap. rain hits harder on windows. "you know- you know you can tell me anything. i'd never force you to have sex with me if you're not in the mood. if i'd known-"

"no!" you stop him. it's far from what happened and this time he gets in his head. "i wanted it so much. i still want it, aemond, i promise. i need you, i need to relax. i just don't know how to do it- how to get out of my head."

"do you still want it?" he asks, just to be sure. "do you want me to make you come?"

you nod, taking a breath to relax the tension on your shoulders. "please."

"i can talk you through it." he says, putting your body on bed under him. "if you can only focus on my voice and nothing else, i can help you relax."

"but what if i-"

"it's okay if you can't finish." he interrupts you. "don't go hard on yourself. you just gotta tell me when it does and doesn't feel good."

"okay." you say, desperate to feel his hands all over you again. it feels good to ask for his help.

"good." he says, with a deep voice. "i'll make you feel better." he promises.

your head goes back to let him kiss your neck, he kisses the same spots as he did minutes ago. you hold his hand, it doesn't take too much for him to get hard again. it's been a week since you last had sex. aemond doesn't like touching himself without you ever since you first made him come. it's addicting to feel your softness against his cock, he feels poorly when he tries to do it himself.

"i need it." you say, numbly. "please."

he holds your waist, kissing the top of your cunt softly. "trust me." he says. "don't worry."

he kisses your swollen clit. it aches with want, you want to have him so much, it hurts your head. he sucks to relieve a bit of tension. "yes." you whisper. "more, please."

he sucks for a nice minute. you part your legs, your wetness mixes with his spit. he's never been ashamed with his intentions but he feels bolder this time. pressing his cock to soft bed under him, he grunts against your cunt.

"i can't take it." you cry. "you need to do something, i feel like i'm losing my mind."

he kisses your belly. "sweetheart." he speaks softer than he ever does. "you're not losing your mind. you just need to be patient with yourself."

you feel a teardrop roll on your cheek out of pleasure. "okay." you say, pulling him back on his spot between your legs.

when he's sure you're wet enough, aemond strokes his cock. the tip of it is dark pink, so sensitive, so needy. he knows he'll feel good when he gets inside of you, he rubs himself nicely before placing himself properly against your hole.

"are you okay?" he asks against your ear. you nod, he relaxes. his back arching towards you gracefully, his cock finally getting what it wants as he pushes himself inside slowly.

you moan, tilting your head back. it's so sweet, you sound wet when he pushes a bit more. he moves his hips carefully, grunts softly when he can breathe against your chest.

"you feel so good, you know that?" he asks, almost begging. "i missed having you like this, all mine, all needy for me."

"i missed you, too." you cry out. the pleasure is blinding when he presses his fingers on your wet clit. "i missed you so much." you hug him, it's more intimate than it ever has been. rain sounds cover your little whispers, you kiss the skin beneath his ear.

"never gonna leave you again." he promises. he keeps moving, pushing himself fully inside. "never gonna leave you lost in your pretty head."

"please." you say. "please, baby, help."

you're too sweet on him, calling him baby when he's desperate to get you come. he feels himself getting closer to his peak but that's not his priority right now.

he hits your g-spot for the first time that evening and you moan loudly. he smiles, kissing your forehead. "relax." he says. "i got you."

"right there." you mumble. "so- so good."

he moves gracefully, hitting the same spot over and over again, his stamina helps him delaying his own climax. you're all spread out under him, he sucks one of your nipples when your chest gets heavy with deep breaths. he holds your hands on top of your head, fucking into you sweetly with hard motions.

"i can feel it." he says. "you're so close, right? so pretty, you should see yourself."

"close." you murmur. "i need it."

he keeps fucking you until you finally snap. your mind goes blank, it's all him. his scent overwhelmes you, surrounds you and there's nothing else. aemond targaryen is everywhere, he doesn't stop until the tightness disappears. arching your back for the last time, your wetness stains the sheets.

aemond can't keep himself any longer. "come for me." you beg. "please, come for me, i need to feel you."

who's he to deny your wishes? he comes hard, grunting, moaning your name. your thighs, your cunt, the sheets, all covered in white cum. he lets out a breath, shaken up by your cunt. "fuck." he whispers, putting his head on your chest. he's spent.

it takes a few minutes for you to get back to yourself. your fingers in his hair, his hands around you, his head on your chest. you stay like this until your mind feels like you again. you are exhausted, finally feel like you'll get a good night sleep.

"that felt pretty real to me." aemond teases when he lifts his head to see you.

"it was." you smile. "it felt so good."

aemond leaves the bed to get a clean towel from the bathroom. he comes back, cleans you up as good as he can. "help me, sweetheart." he says. "can you lift your hips?"

you do as he says, he leaves again. you feel good, your muscles spent for him, your head in that hazy space. you have a lovesick smile on your face when aemond comes back, wearing a clean pair of boxers.

"you'll get cold." he says, helping you wear one of his shirts and clean panties. "it's still raining."

"it's nice." you whisper. "can we sleep now?"

aemond kisses the side of your head. "yes. after you drink this."

he hands you a glass of water, you take three sips. aemond joins you under the covers, you wrap yourself around him instantly. he rubs your shoulder softly, you kiss his neck before burying yourself against him.

"thank you." you whisper. "for taking care of me."

"you think i could leave my girl alone when she needs me?" he says with a low voice. "i'm glad you never need to fake anything with me."

"i trust you." you say, finally falling asleep on him. three words aemond has barely heard before he met you. he thinks it's a nice weight to carry someone's trust. especially yours. you trust him with your body, with your mind. he kisses your head. your hand twitch against his waist in your sleep. he holds your hand through the night.

♡

[ladyironsky]

It's actually kind of sad because Charlie's had that realization, after his talk with Jeff, that the lack of communication in his and Babe's relationship is unhealthy and just having sex to solve any arguments or disagreements is only making things worse. It's why he tried to start clearly communicating how he feels to Babe

But the thing is- Babe hasn't had this realization. He's still operating how he and Charlie have done the past year, even if he did listen to Charlie's concerns in the hospital. Otherwise Babe is continuing to keep things to himself because he thinks he can handle Willy on his own, coupled with the need to protect Charlie, who he's already lost once.

So now we have Charlie, starting to see the cracks in the relationship, who has had his insecurities brought to the surface, who has realized Babe isn't being fully honest with him (yes, Babe is telling the truth that nothing is going on between him and Willy but still chooses not to let Charlie in on the hot tub plan) walk in on what, from Charlie's perspective at this point, could be a completely consensual situation between Babe and Willy (even though we all know it absolutely is not consensual and Willy deserves a good kick in the balls).

Yeah, the whole fake cheating setup is a bit cliche but I do appreciate how the show took the time to set it up, using what we know of these characters to make it believable in-universe. And now we have this relationship at the core of the show rocked to it's foundation. I need episode six to see how Charlie handles this, given everything that happened before the hot tub scene.

[sightseertrespasser]

I keep meaning to ask and keep forgetting to. What exactly is a crash? The way I have it figured is that it’s somewhere between passing out and a seizure, though it’s kinda hard to tell when everyone treats it a little differently

So I’ve seen crashes written with varying levels of severity depending on what the writer needs it to be.

For my setting, I treat crashes as something that could technically affect any cybertronian but is very rare outside of individuals with certain conditions.

In human terms, crashes can be as be as mild as a Petit Mal (or absence) seizure, with brief lapses in attention and confusion. All the way up to a massive stroke requiring immediate hospitalization. That’s just to compare how serious they are to a bunch of alien computer people.

Since crashes are their own thing, I have my own guide to how they work. Also, I encourage everyone to play with the concept themselves.

Crashes! What are they?

Causes: Cybertronians basically have computers for brains, so the things that make actual computers crash are what you’d expect to cause a Cybertronian to crash.

Most commonly,

- Overheating (#1 cause, similar to heatstroke)

- Hardware issues (I.e. something got physically damaged in there)

- Malware/viruses (akin to getting poisoned or on brain damaging drugs)

Those are what the average cybertronian has to watch out for. For most people, these are all external factors that can simply be avoided or are caused by someone’s deliberate actions (I.e. getting kicked in the head real hard).

Now, Prowl has a Tacnet. As do his brothers, which I’ll get into later. Tacnet is essentially a super computer jammed into a regular processor. It’s primary function is to crunch numbers and it is very good at that. Tacnet also opens up its mechs to an additional way to experience Crashes:

- Logic cascades.

In which Tacnet gets stuck on a problem, pulling in more and more resources to try and solve it until either it does the job, or some load bearing element is compromised resulting in a crash.

Usually, logic cascades simply result in crash via overheating, which is normally very treatable. The difference with a logic cascade, is that Tacnet does not stop trying to solve the problem. A doctor can bring a mechs temperature down, but the second their processor isn’t literally physically melting, Tacnet goes right back into using all of the resources available to it to solve the problem.

Symptoms: Crashes can be very dangerous because it is effectively a form of brain damage.

Overheating can cause wires and delicate components to melt and fail.

Hardware issues can mean much of the same, but pieces are already explicitly broken and elements that are absolutely not supposed to touch are crunched together.

Malware might be designed to cause overheating as well, or maybe reroute power inside to blow fuses and cripple other components.

Regardless of the cause, someone who’s crashing is going to be severely struggling to think clearly and maybe loose control of body functions if the parts related to motor control are affected. Sudden changes in mood, lapses in memory, difficulty communicating, difficulty concentrating, paralysis, failure to regulate bodily functions such as venting and fuel pumps etc, etc.

Basically everything that could go wrong from having your brain messed up.

Tacnet crashes specifically don’t usually effect the life support systems until it’s already at catastrophic levels. The primary symptom of a Tacnet crash is a complete and total mental arrest of the subject at its final stages before the aforementioned “catastrophic level”.

Treatment: For the first three causes, the treatment is fairly straightforward.

- Cool down the processor.

- Repair the damage.

- Purge the malware.

Of course, Tacnet has to be a special case. To fully undo a Tacnet crash, a doctor has to essentially get into the mechs processor and manually find and delete the rapidly multiplying and branching logic branches until they get back to the source code of the issue and remove that too. This requires speed, precision and endurance on part of the doctor. The affected individual can eventually start to fight back against the logic cascade themselves once they have some control of their processor back. Manually deleting splitting logic branches themselves.

Prowl has gotten very good at this! Which is kind of a bad thing, since that means he only gets help when it’s already gotten extremely bad.

So why don’t Bluestreak and Smokescreen regularly crash if they are also susceptible to logic cascades?

It’s because they essentially only use their Tacnets for “solvable” equations. They can still be overwhelmed, or get stuck on impossible, incompatible data. But usually it’s just a brief freezing up before going back to normal.

Smokescreen regularly uses his for calculating the outcomes of fights, races, dice and card games etc. All things with clear boundaries of relevant data and simple end points “Who will win? Who will loose? The most likely card to be drawn next.” You get the picture.

Likewise, Bluestreak is using his Tacnet to calculate speed, velocity, air resistance, gravity, flight paths and so on. All concrete data points with a distinct solvable condition: Hit thing with other thing.

So what’s Prowl trying to calculate? War.

A million moving pieces, a billion interchangeable factors, and there is never truly a “solved” state since conflict never truly ends, just changes shape.

Prowl, being Prowl, has decided that “Solved states” are bullshit and every time Tacnet tells him the solved state of what he’s asking is “Everyone dies” he says do it again. Add more information. Find every possible angle until something works.

Basically, Prowl finds a wall and then bashes his head against that wall until he gets a hole.

Tacnet reacts by going “Give me solvable equations or so help me I’m smothering us in your sleep.”

“Is the solved state to loose?”

“Yes.”

“Then do it again until it’s not.”

“Fuck you. Hospital.”

Long Term Management: The easiest way to prevent future crashes is to not try and fist fight the laws of physics.

However, taking on extremely taxing calculations can be done safely (ish) if Prowl slows down and takes his time. Basically letting stuff sit on the back burner while he does things like eat and sleep regularly.

Talking out a problem is a manual way of slowing Tacnet down, as processing power is diverted towards simplifying complex equations into coherent spoken statements. Some margin of error is lost this way, (rounding 7.83620563 up to 8 for example) making the calculations slightly less accurate. But in return, Tacnet can then use those rounded numbers to more efficiently do the required math.

I hope that answered your question!

It’s always a lot of fun fleshing out the details for stuff like this. I have a whole other tangent I could elaborate on about Tacnet specifically, but this post is long enough on its own.

[panravenc]

i need fluff in my life bc lately it's been getting fucking depressing so here's dating codywan headcanons:

they flirt. constantly. obi-wan, mostly, but cody knows how to keep up with him after a while of getting flustered and now they're both menaces

cody likes the challenge of making obi-wan blush, but obi-wan just adores the sight of cody blushing because of his compliments and words, so he is relentless in making use of his silver tongue

most of their dates happen in private, quiet settings. they like taking walks through gardens, or staying home to have a cup of tea and a snack and, like, solve puzzles together and watch old movies; basically, very cozy and private dates

when they have outdoor dates, it's usually to a cultural scene, like a museum, a festival or a concert, or to have a meal together - no matter if the restaurant is fancy or if it's a market stall. cody mostly enjoys trying new things and obi-wan delights in watching him do so

no pda, but in their home? so many hugs and kisses. so many! cuddles, too, of course. they like to be as close as possible when they can, and gravitate towards the other when they sit together or just exist in the same space

however, whenever they are out on a date, they do indulge in holding hands or linking their arms together. it's just that outside of that context, the most they show is a quick kiss hello/goodbye

they also tend to wrap their arms around one another's waist if they're standing close. if it's on a professional setting, cody will lay his hand on obi-wan's lower back lightly

cody is very protective of obi-wan, and cody prefers to accompany obi-wan on his missions alongside some of the 212th troopers, but he understands if their schedules don't align

obi-wan, although similarly protective when the situation calls for it, and no less worried about cody if his boyfriend is on a mission without him, is much more laid-back about it

on the other hand, neither of them are prone to jealousy or possessiveness once they start dating - cody did get jealous before that, but he trusts in obi-wan and since confessing their mutual love, even obi-wan's brand of battle-flirting won't bother him, lol

they express their love in all kinds of manners. spending time together is the main one, and the most comfortable for them, but they are, as i've said before, also constantly flirting

and! they give each other gifts. lots of small gifts. trinkets they see in markets that reminds them of the other, usually that have functionality and could be useful in some way;

and handmade gifts, too! things they make from their long-life hobbies or their newly-found ones, be them paintings or wood carvings or scarves or whatever they craft

one day cody gives obi-wan a lightsaber leather holster and laughs at the face he makes. and obi-wan spends months giving cody and all his siblings in range crocheted blankets

they are really good at communication. misunderstandings happen in the beginning of their relationship sometimes, but honestly - they get real good at talking them out and just. being very honest with each other

they also bicker a lot more than people think, though they did that well before they started dating. it's just that now it also tends to deviate into flirting

and they notice every little thing about the other. cody can identify fifty-six different "i'm tired" smiles from obi-wan and obi-wan feels it the moment cody twitches. they are very well-versed in each other's body language. very.

on that note, they're the couple who know exactly how to make each other's drinks. obi-wan, who hates caf because it gives him terrible stomach aches, suddenly knows how to make it to cody's taste. and viceversa, cody learns everything there is to know about tea

their siblings tease them the ever-loving shit out of them for it. anakin is a bit oblivious at first and wonders why does obi-wan have a caf machine in his rooms now that he moved out, because he hates that stuff; meanwhile rex and the rest are basically telling cody to start a tea house

when they fight, they do it behind close doors. it's very rare for them to go beyond annoyed with each other, but it happens, and when it does, they make sure to express their displeasure only once they're in their home

now, when they make-up, they have a thorough conversation about it (it can't be helped, that's how obi-wan was raised) and then cuddle for the longest time and kiss each other a lot. like a lot a lot

talking about kisses, cody and obi-wan kiss. so much. not only on the mouth but also. if obi-wan is standing making tea, and cody passes him by, he drops a kiss on his shoulder. if cody is reading reports, obi-wan might get behind him and kiss the crown of his head. very casual cheek kisses, and tender temple kisses, and playful kisses on the nose. every kiss ever

conclusion cody and obi-wan date like two old men in love and will keep doing so for fifty more years, thank you for coming to my ted talk

that is all folks! i hope you enjoyed this. i've been thinking of opening codywan headcanons requests. should i? would you guys like that? i feel like i've got lots of thoughts about them and no such energy to put them all into fics. anyway say something if yes? i guess? lol.

love y'all,

―pau.

[genderqueerdykes]

I’m a butch who can’t wear pants because I am extremely autistic and they are sensory HELL. Like socks but so so so much worse cause it’s half your fucking body. Anyways, thank you for saying to stop enforcing ridgid lines around butch! I am butch, masc whatever, I’m just kinda a fairy about it and for disability reasons that includes a skirt or dresses. I don’t give a fuck that I don’t “read” or “flag” correctly. I don’t define masculinity that narrowly and queer people who do haven’t let themselves truly be freed by how expansive queer really can be! (Though I do hope the flagging gets a little better once I start T. A cis gay man at work implied I was gender conforming and I almost cried right there and then.)

i think people suddenly willingly forget that clothing isn't gendered when it comes to butches in specific. people will say "oh men can wear skirts and they're still men" but then they turn around and misgender and mistreat butches who don't wear jeans, t shirts, button up shirts and carabiners. people run butches through the toxic masculinity meat grinder. it's genuinely disturbing to see how many people willingly apply toxic masculinity to butches when none of us want this. why do butches HAVE to dress a certain way or else they're not butch?

why are we so rigid when it comes to butch masculinity in specific? what, butches have to conform to toxic masculinity or else they're not 'real' butches? really? butches? this is exactly what we do to cishet men!

we give cis men more flexibility than we give butches, for christ's sake! what, does it absolutely kill some people to think that they'll "flag" as 2 femme lesbians, or 2 friends who are girls? are people that uptight that they have to be presenting their partner as Their Butch all the time? i swear people proudly dehumanize butches and turn us into trophy partners and sex toys and literally don't care about how we feel, how we identify, or what we want to do with our lives. people inside of the lesbian community are literally the absolute worst about dehumanizing butches. we're sex toys that have to always look hot and strong. we always have to swoop in to solve everyone's problems. we have to do literally everything for femmes. this is cisheteronormative toxic masculinity, y'all. wake up, the bubble just burst

anyway i'm really glad i could help with that! the butch is in the person, not the clothing. you don't have to dress a certain way. butches are allowed to define what butchhood looks like for them. a butch isn't a skirt isn't suddenly a femme. there's way more variation and room for expression than that, come on. stop re-enforcing the binary! let butches break the boundaries of the binary you've forced us into!

[mosswiind]

RANKING THE VEILGUARD COMPANIONS AS SPICY PARTNERS

This is definitively correct and I will not be accepting feedback.

In seventh and last place, we have our sweet boy Lucanis.

He's so into you. Spite is at least the same amount of into you. Lucanis though, is wildly inexperienced. Dude blacked out seeing Rook of any gender without a top on. A single titty would put this man in the hospital.

As a person who has slept with a lot of people, enthusiasm does not always compensate for skill. Lucanis would be very sweet, and apologizing because this has literally never happened to him before.

In sixth, we have Bellara.

Bellara is wonderful! But, similar to Lucanis, she's pretty inexperienced, and not in a position to acquire more experience without Rook’s involvement. She did date Irelin, but Irelin also doesn't give "exciting spicy partner" vibes. I feel like she would be enthusiastic about figuring out what you both like! It would just take some time to get there. She would also be very open to using magical aids. Electrical magic? Hell yeah.

She's also absolutely a bottom and if that's a consideration for you, she would be very good at it.

In fifth, we have Harding.

Harding is one long conversation away from being down for some Actual Freak Shit. She's already down, she just doesn't know what to ask for.

HOWEVER. Harding has precisely zero game, so it may feel a little silly while y'all figure your stuff out.

It will be good, it will also be clumsy and sweet.

In fourth, Taash.

Taash is similar to Harding, but has more sexual experience. They are also a confirmed top. Those are rare! They are coded to feel like they're in their early twenties, and extremely athletic, so stamina would not at any point be an issue. I've seen some comments that their bluntness would be bad for dirty talk/having game - those people didn't have to take a minute to do some deep breathing after the Taamlok scene, and also do not have taste. Taash will break you in half in a good way. Taash is a capital T Top and honestly, I respect it.

In third, Davrin.

Davrin, in a different group, would be the top pick. He's cocky, confident, has game for days. He's not a snack, he's a meal, and he is very aware of that. In my experience, banging Extremely Hot Dudes can go one of two ways; it's either sex you will wake up thinking about ten years later, or it will be like, extremely mid. I have faith in his ability. He is also a top, but I feel like he would also be into another top so there's a Fight (America's Next Top Model theme plays).

Thrill of the chase, indeed.

In second, Emmrich.

I know Emmrich is a canonical sex god. I know a bunch of y'all are extremely horny for Dr. Hose Goat. He caught me on the back foot a couple of times.

I also understand that this is a community that is very into Hot Authority Figures Who Remind You To Drink Water. There's a top shortage. I know what you people are like. I get it.

In first, it's the internet's wife, Neve Gallus.

Neve reads people for a living. She's also hot, emotionally unavailable, and would rather make out than acknowledge she has Actual Human Feelings. She's so locked into everything going on around her that she knows what you want before you do.

She's also creative at problem solving - no good surface? No problem. Just...not her desk, probably. There's a lot of notes to get displaced, and she has a hard enough time with the wisps. She will not allow your dumb ass to be too horny for organization.

Also - frost magic for you sensory seekers, and the ability to slow down time. I feel like we're all on the same page about the possibilities.

Your brain will melt out of your ears. You will not be able to stand. For days, potentially.

She's also a switch, depending on the vibes presented.

Emotionally unavailable romantics will ruin your life.

[natsaffection]

Auge um Auge pt. 3 | N.R.

Investigator!older!Natasha x Robber!younger! reader

Warnings: Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22) steamy tension, Natasha being overall cute

Word count: 5,9k

A/n: I love writing love confessions..🫂👀

The heist had already been ongoing for a few days, and the tension between the robbers and the police had become unbearable. The professor had anticipated the police’s response and had tasked you with laying the groundwork for the next step: infiltrating the police’s command network with a cleverly disguised trap.

Using your hacking skills, you had inserted malicious code into the police communication network. The code caused intermittent failures in critical systems like surveillance cameras, encrypted communication channels, and tactical coordination tools. It wasn’t a complete blackout, but it created enough chaos to leave the police scrambling for solutions.

“They’ll think it’s a sophisticated hack.” the professor had said. “And when they realize their own tech team can’t fix it, they’ll seek outside help. That’s where you come in.” You had smiled, though your stomach churned with nerves. “What if they don’t take the bait?” The professor had adjusted his glasses, his voice calm. “Trust me, they will. You’ve done good groundwork, and Natasha will bite.”

Officers shouted over each other, screens blinked with error messages, and the air was thick with rising panic. The robbers had taken over multiple police systems, rerouted communication channels, and disrupted surveillance feeds. Worse, they had fed the unit targeted misinformation, nearly leading to a catastrophic operation that left officers in complete disarray.

Maria sat at the central workstation, her jaw clenched as she desperately tried to regain control. “It’s like they’re toying with us..” she muttered, staring at the corrupted data streams on her screen. “They know exactly where to hit us. Natasha stood nearby, her arms tightly crossed. “How bad is it?”

“They’ve locked us out of certain areas of our own system.” Maria said sharply. “And their encryption? It’s not standard. It feels almost..experimental. Natasha frowned. “Can you crack it?” Maria paused, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, then exhaled sharply. “Maybe. But not fast enough. They’re three steps ahead, and we don’t have time to lose.” Natasha hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Then we need someone who thinks like them.”Maria turned to her, narrowing her eyes. “What are you suggesting?”

“I know someone who could help us.” Natasha said cautiously. “A civilian. Brilliant with tech, unpredictable, exactly the type of person who could mirror the robbers’ creativity.” Maria’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A civilian? You can’t be serious, Natasha. This isn’t some neighborhood dispute, this is a high-risk, top operation. And you want to bring in someone off the street?”

“She’s not just ‘anyone.’” Natasha countered firmly. “I trust her.” Maria scoffed. “And that’s supposed to reassure me? I trust you, Natasha, but this? You want to involve an outsider in our operation?”

“We’re already exposed!” Natasha snapped, her voice rising. “They’ve hacked our systems, locked us out, and led us straight into a trap. We can’t keep doing the same thing and expect different results.” Maria folded her arms. “And you think your civilian will magically solve everything?”

“I think she’s our best chance.” Natasha said. “Maria, you’re the best there is, but even you said this isn’t standard. This encryption? It’s personal. We need someone who thinks like the person who designed it.” An officer hurried over to Maria with a report. “Ma’am, they’ve breached the surveillance network in the eastern quadrant. We’re blind.”

Maria slammed her hands on the table and cursed under her breath. “Damn it.” Natasha stepped closer. “We don’t have time to debate this. You need help, Maria. And you know it.” Maria stared at her. “Even if I agreed, why her? Why would she agree to this?” Natasha hesitated, her jaw tightening. “Because she’s already involved.” Maria frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She’s the one who gave us the tip about the camera.” Natasha admitted. “She’s brilliant, completely unassuming, but she knows things. I think- no, I know she’s exactly the type of person who could have designed this encryption herself.” Maria shook her head. “You’re taking a huge risk.”

Natasha’s voice softened. “If this fails, it’s my responsibility. But if we don’t try, we’ll lose this fight. And we can’t afford that.” Maria sighed and rubbed her temples. “Fine. But if this backfires, you’re the one taking the fall.”

Natasha found you in your usual spot at the café, your laptop open and your fingers flying across the keyboard. You paused when you saw her approaching, your eyes widening slightly. “This is becoming a habit..” you said with a nervous laugh. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

Natasha dropped into the chair across from you, her expression serious. “I don’t have time chatting this time, we need your help.” You tilted your head, trying to look confused. “With what?”Natasha leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. “My team’s systems have been compromised. Surveillance feeds, encrypted communication..they’ve all been affected by some sort of evolving encryption. We can’t crack it.” You raised an intrigued eyebrow. “And you think I can?”

“You’ve already proven you can.” Natasha said firmly. “The sniper incident..if it weren’t for you, we’d have walked right into an ambush. You see things my team doesn’t, and I’m not too proud to admit it.” You tried to appear hesitant. She’s taken the bait. “Natasha, I’m just a freelancer..I’ve never worked on anything of this scale before.”

“I trust you.” Natasha said, her voice steady. “And I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.” You swallowed, the sincerity in Natasha’s eyes tightening something in your chest. Stick to the plan, you reminded yourself. Finally, you nodded. “Okay, I’ll help.”

You entered the command tent under Natasha’s watchful eye, feeling the weight of every officer’s gaze on you. Maria was waiting at the workstation, her expression skeptical but resigned. “You must be Y/n.” Maria said, gesturing toward the monitors. “Show us what you can do.”

The professor’s words echoed in your head: “Stay calm. You’re one of them now. Look nervous, but not too nervous. Don’t let their chaos overwhelm you, control it.” But as you ventured deeper into the tent, it became harder to ignore the efficiency and organization of the police. Large maps of the bank were spread across tables, officers compared information, and intercepted radio transmissions flashed on the screens.

Your eyes landed on a monitor, and your breath caught. Names. Two names. Tokyo. Rio. The police had already identified two members of the crew. You froze for a moment, your thoughts racing. How? How could they already know their names? And why didn’t you know about this?

Natasha noticed your hesitation and approached with a clipboard in hand. “Y/n?” she said, her tone firm but not unfriendly. “Is everything okay?” You blinked and snapped out of your daze. Forcing a small smile onto your face, you said, “Yeah, sorry. It’s just..a lot.” Natasha’s eyes softened slightly. “It’s overwhelming, I know. You’re walking into a warzone here, and this isn’t an easy place to be.”

You nodded quickly, doing your best to play the role of an overwhelmed civilian. “It’s just..I didn’t expect it to be this serious. Seeing all of this..” Natasha gave you a reassuring smile. “You’re doing great. Just focus on your part. We’ll handle the rest.” You nodded again, but your stomach churned. Your nerves weren’t entirely an act anymore. The reality of standing in the enemy’s camp, surrounded by people working tirelessly to unravel the professor’s plan, hit you harder than you’d anticipated.

You sat down at a workstation, your fingers trembling slightly as you typed. You had to stay on course, complete your task without raising suspicion. But your thoughts kept drifting back to the screens with Tokyo and Rio’s names. If they were already so close to those two, how much longer before they found the rest? Natasha stood nearby, her presence both comforting and unsettling. You could feel her watchful gaze on you, her concern growing with every passing second. “You’re doing great.” Natasha said quietly, crouching beside you.

You forced a weak smile, your voice shaky. “Thanks.”The professor had arranged a distraction inside the bank, chaos that was meant to make your role as a nervous civilian more believable. The crew was supposed to fire shots into the air, throwing the police into panic and creating the perfect diversion for you to finish your task. But you were so lost in your own thoughts that you’d completely forgotten about the plan. When the sharp crack of gunfire echoed through the tent’s speakers, you flinched violently, your eyes widening in genuine fear.

Natasha frowned, her expression sharp. “Shots fired inside the bank!” she said grimly, grabbing a radio. “We need visuals on the situation, now!” Your heart raced, your mind screaming at you to get a grip. It’s the plan. It’s part of the plan. But the sound of the gunfire had shaken you to your core. You were too close to the enemy, too exposed. For the first time, the weight of what you were doing, the danger you were in hit you fully. Natasha noticed your trembling hands and pale face. “Hey..” she said gently, stepping closer. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

“I..I’m sorry..” you stammered, your voice breaking. “I just…it startled me, that’s all.” Natasha’s expression softened, her concern deepening. “This isn’t something most people are prepared for.” she said quietly. “You’re doing more than we could ever ask of you. But if it’s too much, you can stop. No one would blame you.”

“No.” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I can do this. I just need..a minute.” Natasha hesitated, then nodded. “Take all the time you need.” As you tried to steady your breathing, Natasha watched you closely, her own thoughts racing. She admired your bravery. Walking into such a dangerous situation as a civilian was no small feat. You looked up and caught Natasha watching you. “What?”

“Nothing.” Natasha said quickly, forcing a small smile. “I…I just admire your courage.” You blinked, surprised. “Courage?” Natasha nodded. “Most people wouldn’t put themselves in a situation like this. You could’ve said no when I asked. But you didn’t. That says a lot about you.” You swallowed hard, guilt churning in your stomach. “Thank you..” you murmured, turning your gaze away.

Eventually, you regained your composure, finished your task, and planted the necessary code into the police’s system. But as you left the tent, Natasha’s words echoed in your mind. “You could’ve said no. But you didn’t.” You had just led Natasha directly into the trap, exactly as the professor had planned. But for the first time, you began to wonder if the cost of the plan was too high. Your hands hovered over the keyboard as you pressed the final key, and the tent filled with the sound of systems coming back online. The previously chaotic screens now displayed a smoothly functioning network.

Natasha, standing nearby, let out a deep breath, visibly relieved. “You did it.” she said, her voice full of genuine admiration. You forced a small smile, but inside, your heart was racing. The professor’s instructions had been clear: “Plant the backdoor. Subtly, cleanly. Once you’re out, we’ll have access to everything.” That’s exactly what you’d done. The professor now had ears inside the tent, but you couldn’t let your relief show on your face.

Natasha approached, placing a hand on your shoulder. “That was incredible work, Y/n. I don’t know how you did it.”

“I’m just glad I could help.” you said, trying to sound humble. Quickly, you packed up your laptop, eager to escape the suffocating tension in the tent. As you slung your bag over your shoulder, Natasha stepped in front of you, her green eyes softer. “You’ve been through a lot today..” she said. “More than anyone in your position should have to.” You looked around nervously. “I’m fine.”

Natasha frowned slightly. “I don’t think you are.” She paused, her voice turning gentler. “How about some fresh air? A walk. After all this, you could use a distraction.” You hesitated. You weren’t sure if being alone with Natasha was a good idea. But her gaze was honest, her concern disarming. Finally, you nodded. “Okay.”

Natasha smiled and led you out of the tent. The two of you walked along a quiet path in a nearby park, the tension of the command tent slowly fading behind you. The fresh air was a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the tent, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Natasha studied you for a moment, her gaze softening. “You’re braver than you give yourself credit for.”

You looked away, guilt twisting in your chest. You wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth, you thought. You stopped at a bench near a cluster of trees, the calm of the night settling around you. Natasha sat down and gestured for you to join her. For a moment, silence reigned, broken only by distant sirens and rustling leaves. “You were really scared in there..” Natasha said quietly, turning to you. You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Finally, you nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “Hearing those gunshots…it was real. I’ve never been that close to something so…dangerous.”

Natasha’s expression softened further. “You never get used to it.” she admitted. “But it’s also not something you should have to go through.” You looked at her, the genuine concern in her eyes tightening something in your chest. “Why do you care so much?” you asked before you could stop yourself. Natasha blinked, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” You hesitated. “You barely know me. But you’re going out of your way to make sure I’m okay.” Natasha’s gaze dropped for a moment before meeting yours again, her expression unreadable. “Because I see that you’re a good person.” she said simply. “And because I’ve been where you are, thrown into something I didn’t ask for, feeling like I had to prove myself.”

As the two of you continued walking, the conversation grew more relaxed. Natasha shared stories about the less glamorous parts of her job, staking out warehouses in freezing temperatures, dealing with endless bureaucracy, and the time an overeager recruit accidentally locked her in a supply closet. You laughed despite yourself, the tension in your chest easing for the first time in hours. “You make it sound so… glamorous.”

Natasha grinned. “Oh, it’s every little girl’s dream. Dodging bullets, endless paperwork, terrible coffee. What more could you want?” You shook your head, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “I can’t believe you’re actually human.” Natasha raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. “Don’t let that get out. I have a reputation to maintain.” By the time you returned to the tent, you felt more at ease but also more conflicted. Natasha’s kindness and humor had broken through your defenses, leaving you questioning your role in the heist.

As Natasha held the tent flap open for you, she smiled. “You were amazing today, Y/n. Really.” You nodded, your throat tight. “Thanks. I… you know where to find me.”

————————————————————————

The bell above the café door jingled, pulling you back to the present. It was already late at night, and you were back in your usual corner. Her shift had gone on longer than you’d expected…You glanced up casually, expecting another late-night coffee addict. Instead, your eyes narrowed slightly when you recognized the woman who walked in.

Maria.

You remembered her from the command tent. Sharp and authoritative, someone who missed no details. What was she doing here at this hour? Your curiosity flared as Maria approached the counter, ordered a coffee, and then sat in a secluded corner. Her posture was casual, but you noticed her eyes scanning the room, as if assessing potential threats..or watching someone.

You barely paid Maria any attention until she pulled out her phone and dialed a number. Something about her body language shifted..relaxed, but not entirely. Whoever was on the other end was clearly someone she trusted. Ever the opportunist, you opened your laptop and connected to the café’s public Wi-Fi. A few quick keystrokes later, you intercepted Maria’s phone signal. A faint hum played through your headphones as you tapped into the call..curiosity had won. The connection stabilized, and a voice came through that made your breath hitch.

Natasha.

“Hey..” Natasha said, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Hey…” Maria replied warmly. “Still in?”

“Yep…” Natasha sighed with a light laugh. Your fingers froze on the keyboard. What the hell? You hadn’t expected a private, casual conversation. You should disconnect. You should. But your curiosity burned too brightly. A pause followed, a familiar silence that hinted at a shared history. You frowned slightly and leaned closer to your screen.

“How are things? We haven’t really had time to talk lately.” Natasha asked, her voice quieter now.

“Well… I miss it, honestly…talking to you all the time, I mean. It feels like old times.” Maria replied.

Natasha didn’t respond immediately, and you heard the faint sound of her shifting in her chair. “Maria…”

Maria chuckled softly. “Relax, Nat. I’m not trying to stir anything up. I just wanted to check on you.”

An uneasy feeling churned in your stomach. You knew you were intruding on something deeply personal, but you couldn’t stop listening.

“I noticed something today..” Maria began cautiously but firmly. “That girl you brought into the tent…You’re spending quite a bit of time with her. And guess who’s sitting a few tables away from me?” A pause followed before Natasha answered, her voice sharper. “Wait…”

“She’s here. Midnight. Alone.” Natasha’s sharp intake of breath was audible. “You can see her?”

“Yes.” Maria said, her tone softening. “And before you say anything-no, I’m not going to approach her. I’m just trying to understand why she’s so important to you.”

“What?” Natasha began, but her voice faltered. She exhaled sharply, her tone shifting. “Maria, she’s been through a lot today.” Natasha said quietly. “And she’s helping us.”

“She’s helping you.” Maria corrected, her voice gentle but firm. “You brought her into the team. You’re the one spending all this time with her.”

Natasha sighed softly, almost as if she’d expected this. “Can we stop talking about this? I know where this is going…”

Maria’s voice softened. “Fine. Then I’ll just ask outright. Do you want to sleep with her?”

You choked on your coffee, quickly covering your mouth to avoid drawing attention to yourself. You glanced at Maria, who was still sitting calmly, completely unaware of the chaos she’d just caused. “Maria, seriously-”

“You’re not denying it…” Maria teased, her tone playful.

Your first instinct was to disconnect, but your hand hovered over the keyboard, frozen. This is too much. I shouldn’t be listening…But your curiosity won out. You leaned back slightly, guilt rising in your chest. I shouldn’t be here. But… I want to know…

A long pause followed. Natasha exhaled slowly. “You’re using the wrong word.”

“What do you mean?” Maria asked, confused.

“‘Sleep.’” Natasha said, her voice quieter now. “That sounds like a one-night stand. Like something meaningless.”

Maria chuckled softly, though it sounded sad. “And you want more than that?”

“Yeah..why not.” Natasha admitted, her voice steady but vulnerable. “If I were with her, it wouldn’t just be that. She’s not someone you just ‘sleep’ with.”

Your head spun, Natasha’s words echoing in your mind. She doesn’t want something meaningless. She wants… something more? Your heart fluttered, and a nervous laugh bubbled up in your throat. She’s not someone you just sleep with. Those words felt both impossibly heavy and surprisingly light. You clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle a grin. Stop acting like a teenager! This isn’t normal! But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the warmth spreading through your chest, or the guilt of eavesdropping on something so personal.

“Just be careful, Nat…” Maria said quietly. “That kind of trust is hard to earn. And if you’re not careful, it’ll hurt both of you.”

“I know.” Natasha replied, her voice firm but tinged with emotion. “Thanks for caring, Maria. But I’ve got this.”

Maria sighed, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. “Goodnight, Natasha.”

“Goodnight.” Natasha said, and the line went dead.

The connection ended, leaving you sitting there, completely stunned. You leaned back in your chair, staring at your laptop as if it might explode at any moment. Your cheeks burned, and your mind raced, replaying Natasha’s hesitant “Yeah..why not” over and over. What the hell just happened? you thought, running a hand through your hair. You’d hacked into Maria’s phone for a tactical advantage, not…whatever this was!

Natasha Romanoff wants to be with me?

Your thoughts shattered as Maria stood up and began walking toward you. You froze, your breath catching. She knows. She figured it out! I’m done for. Maria stopped at your table, her sharp eyes studying you closely. You gripped the edge of your laptop, your heart pounding so loudly you thought it might burst. “Everything okay?” Maria asked, her voice softer than you’d expected. “You’re here alone at midnight. That’s…unusual.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I’m fine!” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “I…I’m just working.” Maria studied you for a moment longer, then nodded. “Alright. Take care of yourself.” She turned and walked away, leaving you frozen in place, your head still spinning.

Meanwhile the activity in the command tent began to wind down for the night. Officers moved between desks, and the soft hum of conversations filled the air. Natasha leaned against a table scattered with files, her arms crossed as she studied the timeline of the heist on the main screen. Yet her thoughts weren’t entirely on the case. Maria’s words from earlier replayed in her mind, “She’s here. At midnight. Alone. I’m just trying to understand why she’s so important to you.”

Natasha sighed quietly, running a hand through her hair. Maria wasn’t wrong. You were always alone, and Natasha couldn’t shake the image of you sitting in that café, typing on your laptop as if you had nowhere else to be. It unsettled her in a way she couldn’t fully explain, and Maria’s direct question only made it worse.

“Why is she so important to you?”

Natasha pushed off the table as the commander signaled the end of the shift for the night. It was late, and most of the team members were heading home. Normally, Natasha would stay longer, but tonight she felt the urge to leave. You listened through your earpiece and when you heard the commander announce the end of the shift, you exhaled in relief. Finally. Natasha was leaving the tent, which meant you could leave too.

You started packing your things, sliding your laptop into your bag as you prepared to leave. The familiar chime of the doorbell froze you mid-motion. Your heart sank as you saw who had just walked in. Natasha stepped into the café, her eyes scanning the room quickly before landing on you. Her expression softened slightly as she approached, her movements deliberate but calm.

You froze, your bag only half-closed. Your heart pounded as Natasha closed the distance between you, her presence overwhelming even in casual clothes. “Hi.” Natasha said, her voice warm but tinged with concern. You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice steady. “Natasha? What are you doing here?” Natasha slid into the seat across from you, propping her elbows on the table. “I could ask you the same thing. I just got off work. Thought I’d check on you.”

“Again?” you laughed, your nervousness slipping into your tone. Natasha tilted her head slightly, studying you. “You’re always here late. Alone. That doesn’t seem right to me.” You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the table. She’s noticed. She’s been paying attention.. “I…I like working at night. I’m fine, really.” you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly. Natasha raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “That’s the second time you’ve said that. Are you sure that’s the only reason?”

You hesitated, your mind racing. What does she want me to say? You looked down at your hands, fiddling nervously with your bag strap. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do.” Natasha said gently. “It’s midnight. Most people your age are either at home or out with friends. Why are you always here?” Your chest tightened. Natasha’s tone wasn’t accusatory. It was gentle, caring, and that made it even harder to deflect. You felt the weight of her gaze, the genuine concern in her eyes. “I… I just like it here.” you mumbled, avoiding her gaze. “It’s nothing.”

Natasha sighed, leaning back slightly. “I’m not trying to pry. But you shouldn’t be here alone so late.” You looked at her, your stomach twisting. She thinks I’m alone because I have no one. She’s not entirely wrong, but the real reason is so much more complicated.. “Come with me.” Natasha said suddenly, her voice soft but firm. You blinked, your eyes widening. “W-What?”

“Come with me.” Natasha repeated, her gaze steady. “To my place. You shouldn’t be here alone this late.” Your heart raced, panic rising in your chest. Go with her? To her place? I can’t. You shook your head quickly, your voice stumbling. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Why not?” Natasha asked, her tone calm but insistent. “You’ll be safe. You can bring your work if you want. But I don’t want to leave you here.”

“I..” You hesitated, your mind spiraling. What if she’s testing me? What if it’s a trap? Natasha leaned across the table, her hand brushing yours lightly. “Please..” she said softly. “I’ll feel better knowing you’re somewhere safe.” You stared at her, the sincerity in Natasha’s voice making your chest ache. She doesn’t know. She has no idea who I really am. She’s just…worried. “Okay..” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’ll come with you.”

Natasha’s apartment was exactly what you’d expected..minimalistic yet elegant, with clean lines and an undeniable sense of order. The open-concept living room was softly lit, a bottle of red wine sat on the counter, and the faint scent of cedar lingered in the air. The space felt personal yet guarded, much like the woman herself.

You stood awkwardly near the couch, unsure of where to put your hands or your thoughts. This wasn’t where you’d ever imagined yourself, and the thought of what might happen here made your stomach twist with nerves. Natasha, however, seemed completely at ease, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it casually onto a nearby chair. “Make yourself comfortable.” she said, her voice calm yet warm, catching you off guard. “Want something to drink?”

“Uh…no, thanks.” you replied quickly, your nerves making you sound more jittery than you intended. Natasha glanced over her shoulder at you, her lips quirking into a small, knowing smile. “Relax. I don’t bite.” You managed a weak laugh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “That’s…good to know.”

Natasha chuckled softly as she settled onto the couch with a grace that seemed effortless. She grabbed the remote and gestured for you to join her. “Come on. Sit. I thought we could watch something.” You hesitated for a moment before walking over and sinking into the cushion next to her. Not too close, but not too far. Natasha noticed and smiled to herself but said nothing.

“What do you want to watch?” she asked, scrolling through streaming options. “Action? Comedy? Something completely ridiculous?” You shrugged, trying to focus on her question instead of the growing tension in your chest. “Something light, I guess. Nothing too intense.”

“Alright.” Natasha said, selecting a movie and setting the remote aside. She leaned back, draping her arm over the back of the couch, close enough for you to feel the faint warmth of her skin. The movie started, the sound filling the quiet space, but you found it hard to focus on the screen.

Fifteen minutes in, you were acutely aware of every detail about Natasha..her presence, her proximity, the subtle scent of her perfume. She sat close enough that her arm occasionally brushed yours, and you felt her gaze on you now and then. You tried to concentrate on the movie, but your thoughts kept wandering. Why had she invited you here? Was this just her way of unwinding, or was there something..more? The possibility made your heart race.

Then you felt it…her hand on your shoulder. At first, it was a light touch that could’ve been accidental. But then her fingers curled slightly, her palm resting firmly on your shoulder, and you realized it wasn’t a mistake. You froze slightly, your breath hitching. Natasha noticed immediately. “You look like you’re waiting for something to explode.” You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “Maybe I am.” Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “It’s just me. You don’t have to be so tense.”

Just her. That was the problem. It wasn’t just her! It was her. Natasha Romanoff: sharp, confident, undeniably alluring. You had no idea how you’d ended up here, in her apartment, watching a movie, feeling like the ground beneath you had completely shifted. “I know.” you murmured, trying to steady your voice. “I… just…”

Natasha leaned closer, her hand sliding from your shoulder lightly down your arm. “I’m not going to do anything you’re not comfortable with. You know that, right?” You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Of course!” For a moment, neither of you spoke, the sound of the movie filling the space between you. The way she looked at you, with a mix of amusement and something warmer, softer made your breath catch. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “I’m not good at this.” Natasha tilted her head, her smile returning. “Not good at what?”

“This..” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Being here. With you. It’s…I don’t know. You make it hard to think straight.” For a moment, Natasha just stared at you, and you felt your cheeks heat. But then she laughed, a soft, genuine laugh that made your stomach flip. “That’s cute.” she said, her tone carrying a playful edge. “You’re nervous.”

“I’m not-” you began, but the look she gave you stopped your denial mid-sentence. “Okay, maybe a little.” Natasha’s smile softened. “Why?” she asked, her voice quiet but genuinely curious. “Why does this make you nervous?” You hesitated, your heart racing as you searched for the right words. “Because…it’s you..” you finally admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “You’re…I don’t know. You’re intimidating. I-In a good way! And I don’t exactly have a lot of experience with…this kind of thing.” Natasha leaned forward slightly, resting her elbow on the back of the couch as she turned toward you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure..” you said, trying not to sound as nervous as you felt. “Why does this make you so uneasy?” she asked gently, her voice devoid of teasing now. “Is it exactly me? Or…something else?” You hesitated, your heart pounding as you considered your answer. “It’s not you..” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “It’s…I guess it’s just that this feels… different.”

“Different how?” Natasha pressed, though her tone remained careful, as if she didn’t want to push too hard. “Like… I don’t know!! Like it matters..” you admitted, your cheeks flushing. “And that scares me.” Natasha’s expression softened further, her gaze searching yours. “I don’t want to scare you.” she said quietly. “That’s the last thing I want.”

“You don’t.” you said quickly. “It’s just…I don’t really know what I’m doing here.” Natasha studied you for a long moment, as if weighing her next move carefully. Then she spoke, her voice low and steady. “Would you tell me if I did something that made you uncomfortable?” You nodded. “Of course.”

“Okay.” Natasha said, exhaling softly. She shifted slightly closer, her hand resting gently on the back of the couch. “Because I want to kiss you. But only if you want me to.” Your breath caught, her words sending a wave of nervous excitement through you. You stared at her, your heart racing as you processed what she’d said. “I’ve never-” Natasha cut in gently, her tone steady. “It’s okay. We don’t have to.”

But something in her patience, in the way she didn’t push or demand, made you take a shaky breath and nod. “I think I want to..” you said softly. Natasha didn’t move immediately, her eyes staying locked on yours. “You’re sure?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“Yes.” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly but sincere. Only then did she lean in, her movements slow and deliberate, giving you every opportunity to change your mind. When her lips finally met yours, it was soft, so soft that it left you breathless. Her hand cupped your cheek gently, her thumb brushing against your skin as if to steady you.

The kiss was unhurried, warm, and filled with a tenderness that surprised you. You felt yourself relax into it, your nervousness melting away as you kissed her back. Natasha pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, her forehead resting lightly against yours. “You okay?” she asked softly. You nodded, a small, shy smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah..” Her lips curved into a smile of her own, and she pressed a brief, tender kiss to your forehead. “Good.” she murmured. She leaned in again, her hand remained on your cheek. The connection was both electrifying and calming, as if nothing else in the world mattered except for this.

But just as the kiss began to deepen, Natasha pulled back slightly, resting her forehead against yours. Her breath was warm, and her voice was soft but resolute. “We should stop..” she said gently. You opened your eyes, looking at her. “Why?”

Natasha gave you a faint smile, her fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “Because you’ve had a long day. And because I don’t want this to feel rushed. For either of us.” You bit your lip, your cheeks heating again. “You think I’m not ready?”

“I think you’re nervous.” Natasha replied honestly. “And I don’t want you to feel like we have to go anywhere tonight. We don’t.” Her words felt like a weight lifting off your chest. She wasn’t angry, wasn’t pressuring you, she was giving you space, something you hadn’t even realized you needed. “Thank you.” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Natasha tilted her head, her smile softening. “For what?”

“For being patient with me.” you admitted, your cheeks flushing again. Her smile grew softer still, and she pressed a brief, tender kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest.” she said quietly. “You’ve earned it.” Natasha stood, walking into the kitchen and pouring you a glass of water. After a moment, she returned and set it on the coffee table in front of you. “You can take the bed.” she said as she settled back onto the couch. “I’ll sleep here.” Your eyes widened. “What? No! This is your apartment.”

“Exactly.” Natasha replied with a playful glint in her eye. “And I’m saying you take the bed. No arguments.” You shook your head, laughing softly. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been called worse..” Natasha said with a smirk. The playful exchange eased your nerves further, and you found yourself smiling as you stood and stretched. “Fine. But if you wake up with a sore neck, don’t blame me.” Natasha laughed, her gaze following you as you headed toward the bedroom door. “Goodnight.” she said softly.

You paused in the doorway, glancing back at her. “Goodnight, Natasha.” As you stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind you, you let out a shaky breath. Your heart was still racing, and your mind replayed the kiss over and over, but there was also a warmth in your chest, a quiet comfort in knowing she understood. That she wasn’t rushing you or asking for more than you were ready to give. You lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling with a small smile on your lips. You hadn’t expected any of this, hadn’t seen it coming..but maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t as terrifying as you’d thought..

[girlokwhatever]

arguing with kate headcannons?🥰

kate martin x fem!gf arguing hcs

𓍯 ִֶָ☁︎¡! ❞𖤓⍣ ೋ kate martin and her gf arguing,,

— kate HATES arguing

- especially with you

— you guys hardly ever argue because there’s such a huge emphasis on healthy communication but sometimes you just can’t help it

— kate is really really patient with you during arguments

— she’ll never call you dude or anything

- it’s either your name or something like baby

— she’s really level-headed and sometimes you’re really…… not.

— “baby please don’t leave, let’s just talk about it”

— she’ll definitely get emotional but tries not to cry

— she gets really really really really hurt if you don’t let her touch you or if you ask for space

- she respects your wishes either way though

— “kate let’s just talk about it in the morning okay? i can’t deal with it right now.”

- she will cry the whole night because she hates going to bed without solving the issue

— she can be kinda mean on the rare occasion

- usually only if the argument starts with her being jealous

- “just fucking tell me who she was and why she thought it was okay to grind on you.”

— it’s instantly over if you cry though

- she’ll drop the whole argument and just comfort you idc

— sometimes you guys petty argue

- “i literally just said that five minutes ago. maybe you’d know that if you were listening.”

— if she feels an argument brewing she just gets really sweet to try to calm you down and avoid it 🤗

— “just tell me what’s on your mind.”

— sweet sweet loving and languid make-up sex

- she’ll worship you to show you how sorry she is

— “don’t just tell me what you think i want to hear kate. i want you to mean it.”

- “i do mean it. i want whatever you want i promise.”

— “i’m sorry. im so so sorry baby.”

- she’s kissing behind your ear and whispering sweet nothings to you because she made you cry

- if she makes you cry………… she literally feels like she’s dying inside

— if you guys argue before bed and she wakes up early the next morning for practice or something……

- trust there will be a LONNGGGG written apology from her where she’s telling you how much she loves you

— she can solve an argument with just a kiss most of the time 🤗🤗🤗

- “okay kate, a kiss can’t fix everything”

- “but it can make you happy, that’s basically the same thing.”

𓍯 ִֶָ☁︎¡! ❞𖤓⍣ ೋ

OKKAAYYY PURRRR

kate is such a sweetie so i really didn’t know what to do for this tbh

[aventurineswife]

“Think I like you best when you're just with me, And no one else”

Tags: @aseqan, Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Romance, Vulnerability, Intimacy, Soft moments, Trust, Aftercare, Emotional Depth, Quiet affection, Established Relationship.

Warnings: Mild Sensuality, Emotional Vulnerability, Light Introspection, Mentions of Past Trauma (subtle).

Aventurine leaned back against the warm, tiled wall of the bath, the water lapping gently around him. The room was dim, lit only by the soft flicker of candlelight, casting shadows that danced over his skin. His left hand, which had been so carefully concealed during their passionate night, was now unguarded, resting on the edge of the tub. He couldn't suppress the rare moment of vulnerability, the cool water soothing his tired muscles and even cooler emotions.

Beside him, your soft laugh echoed as you ran a sponge over his back, the intimate touch a stark contrast to his usual calculated demeanor. The sensation was almost foreign, too tender for a man whose life had been nothing but high-stakes games and cold calculations.

Aventurine tilted his head back, letting the water soak through his hair, feeling the weight of the past few hours—and the weight of everything that came before it—dissolve with each passing second.

“You always manage to make me feel like I’ve won,” he murmured, his voice low but full of sincerity. His eyes met yours, the usual playful glint in them now softened, a flicker of something deeper—a desire to let go, just for this moment.

The sponge moved to his shoulders, working away the tension, the gentle rhythm comforting in its simplicity. He knew the games would resume tomorrow. But for now, in this shared moment of quiet affection, Aventurine let the world outside fade.

"I never want to stop," he whispered, a statement more to himself than anyone else.

Ratio sat by the edge of the bath, his hair damp and hanging loosely around his face. The steam from the water curled lazily into the air, and his body felt heavy with exhaustion, but his mind was quiet for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He glanced over at you, who was lounging back in the water with a serene smile on your face, an expression of contentment that he couldn’t help but admire.

“I suppose this is a form of recovery,” he remarked, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness. His usual intellectual rigidity had softened, a rare moment of calmness settling in.

You reached over, brushing a wet lock of hair from his face. He didn’t flinch at the touch—though he had, at one point in time. Instead, he allowed himself to lean into it, a gesture of silent trust.

"You are... difficult to read at times," you said softly, your voice like music in the quiet room. "But when you're like this... it's hard to believe you're the same person who spends hours lecturing on the importance of knowledge."

Ratio chuckled lightly, though it was softer than usual. “Knowledge is important, yes. But there’s something to be said for understanding the quiet moments as well. Not everything can be solved by intellect.”

The cool water swirled around you as Ratio allowed himself a rare moment of rest. It was a strange thing, this aftercare, but it was a relief. There was something about the intimacy of it—the way your hands moved over his skin, the way you communicated without words—that made him feel like maybe there was more to this life than just the pursuit of knowledge.

He sighed, leaning back with a quiet sense of satisfaction. "Maybe some things don't need to be calculated," he admitted, almost to himself.

The night had unfolded in a whirlwind, a dance between affection and a shared understanding neither had voiced but both had felt. Now, in the quiet aftermath, Sunday found himself still holding you, the rhythmic beat of his heart syncing with yours. His eyes were soft, filled with a rare warmth that contrasted his usual stoic demeanor. He brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of your jaw as if memorizing the feeling of your skin.

"Do you feel it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a gentleness to him now, the weight of his thoughts momentarily silenced by the presence of someone who, in this fleeting moment, felt like the embodiment of peace he so longed for.

"Sometimes I wonder," Sunday continued, his gaze unwavering, "if we could create a world where people could just... be happy, without pain, without struggle." His voice was tinged with a bittersweet longing, but he didn't let it show on his face. Instead, he leaned in and kissed your forehead tenderly, the warmth of his lips lingering for a beat longer than necessary.

"Tonight," he murmured, "wasn’t a dream. It was real, and it’s something I never thought I’d find in this life." His words were vulnerable but not weak, a testament to his trust in you. With a soft smile, he wrapped his arms around you once more, letting the quiet of the night stretch on, neither of you needing to speak to understand that this was more than just a fleeting moment—it was something worth protecting.

[malarign]

make up

(how your arguments and making up after them would look like)

contains: bf!hyungline x fem!reader | genre: angst with comfort | tw! arguing (obv) | wc: 1,1k

reblogs are highly appreciated!!!

author’s note: i think i’m back (this time for real though…)

Lee Heeseung | 이희승

arguments with heeseung are not very often

he prefers solving problems instead of accusing each other

overall just communicates very well

but sometimes he just breaks because of stress

or emotions he doesn’t talk about often

After a few minutes of talking in slightly raised voices, Heeseung stopped himself before saying things he would regret. Instead, he closed his eyes and massaged his temples. You stared at him in silence, waiting for his response. This whole situation could have been avoided if only he allowed you to help him relax and didn’t lace his stress on you. But that’s not what happened when you suggested his well-deserved rest.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, eyes glued to his shoes. His voice cracked a little along the way he spoke quietly. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you like that.”

He looked up at you. His eyes were tired and face was completely drained from any energy.

You smiled reassuringly at him and opened your arms invitingly. He gladly waddled towards you and melted in your touch, that he needed this whole week. He hid his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled your perfume.

“I know you didn’t, my love.” Your voice came out muffled by his hoodie. “Wish you would let me take care of you more, though,” you said, pulling away from his arms.

Heeseung smiled sheepishly and nodded. He placed a soft peck on your forehead, knowing how much you loved it. And he wasn’t wrong.

Park Jongseong | 박종성

okay,, arguments with jay always end up with cuddles and delicious food

but before you get to the nice part 💀💀

there’s a pretty heated argument happening right there

both of you are shouting trying to be heard

but neither of you can do so in this chaos

In the corner of your eye, you noticed how Jay rolled his eyes at your words. That small gesture added fuel to the raging fire that erupted in your kitchen.

“What’s your problem, Jay? Why can’t you just put yourself in my shoes?” You looked at him with your arms crossed.

“The thing is I used to be in your situation! And I don’t want you to make the same mistakes as I did.” He tried his best to hold the reins of his emotions as much as he could, though your defensive (and offensive) attitude made it pretty difficult. He looked at you helplessly as you stood your ground. He let out a final sigh. “Hope you’ll realize that I’m only trying to help you. I’m not your opponent.”

He slowly left you in the kitchen and you watched how he disappeared behind the door. You took a few deep breaths to calm down, surrounded by the heavy air of your argument. Thinking about it, you had come to the realization that all he wanted was to help you, while you made a whole fuss about him being simply right. With a heavy heart, I carefully opened the door to your bedroom and peeked inside. He stood in front of his desk silently, organizing some papers.

“I’m sorry,” you said, breaking the silence.

Jay turned around and put on a comforting smile. With opened arms for a hug, he said: “It’s okay. Come here.”

Sim Jaeyun | 심재윤

this man right there is not physically able to be angry with you

let alone raise his voice at you (yk that one iland ep… 😔)

he just agrees to everything you say

hates seeing you upset so avoids quarrels as much as he can

Jake knew your weekly movie marathon had to wait a bit longer the moment you opened the front door of your shared apartment with fury. From bursting flames in your eyes he could see something happened. Furthermore, something that made you lose your cool.

“Hi baby, can I help you somehow?” he asked calmly, continuing to prepare your favorite snacks.

You glanced at him angrily and let out a scoff. “You would know if only you picked up the phone.”

Jake bit his lower lip at your words, realizing he might have not charged his phone after coming home.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to charge it,” he explained honestly.

“Why do you need it if you’re not gonna use it?” You threw your arms in the air and continued to pace around the living room trying to find something.

“Baby,” Jake called, coming closer to you. “I’m sorry, but you know, it doesn’t happen often. I just wanted to prepare stuff for tonight,” he reasoned and hugged you from behind.

feeling how your tensed body relaxed in his arms, Jake made you face him, now looking at your pout.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, realizing your mistake.

Not wanting to continue that unreasonable argument, he simply asked: “How can I help you?”

Park Sunghoon | 박성훈

arguments with sunghoon are nearly impossible

just when he senses that some quarrel is coming he becomes very quiet

he waits for you to calm down before proceeding with solutions to your problems

the last thing he wants is to upset you

that’s why he prefers peaceful discourse

The atmosphere in your apartment has been pretty heavy today. Your constant loud sighing, rapid movements, and eye rolls told Sunghoon everything: “I feel like breaking something right now”, “Why is everything so irritating today?” and “I’m so pissed right now”. He silently watched as you paced between the kitchen and your bedroom to find something to do. To find something to take your anger out on. After dating quite a long time with you he knew your temperament, especially when it came to your frustrated state. Instead of potentially setting you on fire unintentionally he decided to wait for you to do something. And you certainly did.

“Are you just going to stare at me or maybe ask what’s wrong?” you snapped after noticing him peacefully enjoying his afternoon tea and book.

He calmly placed both on the table and smiled slightly. “I didn’t want to pressure you to…”

“So you preferred to stay silent and enjoy the show of me being stressed?” You didn’t let him finish. His face made you want to bite your tongue yet it was too late. You already lashed out at him. Your expression dropped just like your heart. “I’m sorry,” you whispered with a lowered head.

After noticing how he stood up, you soon felt how he pulled you in a hug and swayed your body. Despite your terrible attitude, he placed a few kisses on your head and cheek.

“It’s okay.” His voice came out muffled by your hair. “Do you want to rant now?”

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

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