#I'm just gonna sit in the dark and work on a drawing so it shouldn't be too big of an issue

[thethingything]

I had to take painkillers for the 2nd night in a row and they're working better than usual this time but I also already feel more spaced out than I have done the last few times so this should be interesting

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 8: Recollections

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

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Raph sits down on his bed, grabbing a stuffed bear and rubbing his thumb over its worn-down stomach.

The room is dim, but not dark. The main light is off, but the hanging lanterns he has strung along the wall give a warm red glow to the room.

Ever since his krangification, Raph's eye has been a bit sensitive. It waters easily, stings on occasion, and bright lights irritate him. He's started wearing sunglasses outside more often, even on cloudy days. Donnie offered to make an artificial eye to help, but Raph said no. He'd rather keep the eye, even with its attitude and quirks.

"I'm not ready to be a cyborg just yet," he'd joked.

He thought that much of a change would be too big for him, after all the changes he and his family have already gone through.

Now a mechanical eye doesn't sound so crazy or scary.

Raph hugs his teddy bear. It squeaks in his arms. He thinks of how similar it felt to holding Mikey before he got mutated...

He grimaces, scrunching his face up tight and pressing his hands against his head, trying to force the thoughts away.

Mikey is still Mikey! Just with a few new... he won't call them upgrades. Changes. Nothing that can't be reversed, of course.

But... what if they can't be?

Raph presses his hands even tighter against his head.

Stop it. Shut up. Shut up!!

He doesn't want to think about this. He doesn't want to think about Mikey. Not in this way.

He feels like he's betraying him somehow, thinking of him as a monster or a wild animal rather than a brother. But then, he feels like he won't be able to help him if he keeps thinking of Mikey as he was before, and not accepting that he is changed now. But then, he won't stay changed. But then...

"SHUT UP!" Raph yells to himself, slamming his fists against the bed frame.

His ninpo activates, giant red fists breaking the bed slightly and causing the edge of it to slip under his weight and crash against the floor. Raph yipes in alarm, looking down at the mess he's made.

"...Nice going, Raph," he grumbles, grabbing some boxes of dumbells from the corner of his room to prop up the extension on his bed.

He sighs, sitting down on the edge of the mattress again, head in his hands.

He tries to stay strong. He tries not to break down. His family doesn’t need that right now, they don't need a basket case or a worry-wart or whatever else they might call him. They need Raph, strong and brave and ready to take on the world.

But he needs Mikey... he needs his baby brother back, safe, sound, whole. Not broken, not bloody, not feral and confused. He wants Mikey home again. Home in his own body.

Raph starts crying. Although he's disappointed in himself for it, he is glad that he can finally get the tears out. He presses his face into his stuffed animals, trying to get it all out all at once.

Raph hates himself so much right now...

Because...

Because it is all his fault...

.

.

.

"...But I don't see WHY we have to wait!" Raph gripes, Mikey sitting beside him, drawing random doodles on his arm wraps while he listens to the rant. "If we know that the place is doing villain stuff, shouldn't we go in to stop em?"

"I mean, Leo's decision does make a little sense," Mikey counters, taking a big yellow marker out and drawing a smiling sun on Raph's arm. "It's a pretty big building, dude."

"I'm not saying we storm the castle," he responds, waving his arms in exasperation.

Mikey scolds him and brings his arm back down to continue his work.

"I'm just saying that we could scope out the place instead of ignoring it completely!"

"We're not ignoring it," Mikey corrects. "Donnie is gonna run surveillance on it. Leo's gonna have Cass and the girl scouts check it out. Besides, when did you become the go-getter? I thought you and your Raph-chasm would have preferred taking it slow and safe!"

"Raph-chasm?!" he sputters. "Is Leo spreading that slander around?"

Mikey giggles.

"You do know we've been calling it that for years, right?"

Raph growls angrily.

"Dang it, Leo..."

Mikey giggles again.

"But for real, Raph... why are you so antsy?"

"I don't know... just a gut feeling. There's been reports of all kinds of crazy stuff since the invasion, and most of it has something to do with that new organization Donnie and April told us about..."

"What did they call it again? ESP?"

"EPF," Raphael corrects. "Earth Protection Force, or some junk."

"Doesn't sound so bad," Mikey hums, taking out a blue marker and drawing a mini version of Leo on Raph.

"Maybe, but it bothers me that they're everywhere." Raph shudders. "It's unsettling. What if they find us?"

"Find us...?" Mikey turns his head up. "What do you think they'd do?"

"I don't know. But I don't trust em. Something about it all just... bugs me."

Mikey is quiet for a second. He places the cap on his marker. He's managed to draw everyone in the family but himself.

"Well, if it bugs you, then... let's go check em out!"

"Wait, huh?"

"You're gut says they're untrustworthy? Then that's enough for me!" he says, jumping up from his spot. "Let's go see how bad they are."

"But... Leo said..."

"Weren't you the one just complaining about how you didn't think we should stand still and do nothing?" Mikey challenges.

"I know. But Leo is the leader, and I want to show him that I trust him."

"We do!" Mikey exclaims. "We're not storming a castle, we're checking out the scene. Leo wants to wait until we can get some actual intel? Then let's help him along! Let's grab a few listening devices or something and place them along the windows."

"Well... that would help... but we leave at the first sign of trouble, okay?"

"Absolutely!" Mikey salutes. "Now, am I breaking into Donnie's labs to get the spy stuff or are you?"

Raph chuckles as he stands, cracking his knuckles.

"You get the spy equipment, I'll get the weapons. Meet you at the tank."

The two give quick nods before heading off in separate directions.

Raph rushes to the training room and grabs the weapons. It is only then that he sees Mikey's doodles.

Oh, he should change his wraps. He doesn't have time to clean them off, and besides, he knows Mikey prefers to take pictures of all his doodles before getting rid of them.

Raph quickly grabs his sai and Mikey's nunchucks before heading to his room, grabbing a spare roll of black bandages, and carefully but speedily removing the one on his right arm. He just needs to replace the one arm, Mikey hasn't gotten to decorating the left yet. Maybe when they get back he can finish it...

He races back to the tunnel, seeing Mikey leaning against the ginormous tire of the turtle tank as he waits.

"There you are! Ready to go?"

"Sure thing. Do you wanna try driving tonight?"

"Can I?" Mikey asks with excitement.

"Sure, why not? You need the practice."

Mikey squeals with delight as he climbs in, Raph following suit.

The two drive away, making plans while Raph gives Mikey impromptu driving lessons. They joke, they laugh, Raph clings to his seat when Mikey's turns come in too sharply.

"Park over there," Raph says, pointing to an alley closeby to the targeted building.

Mikey nods with an "aye-aye, cap'n!" as he makes another sharp turn and hides the tank in the alley, activating a cloaking device Donnie came up with recently.

"Okay, got the listening doohickeys?"

"Right here!" Mikey says, reaching out and producing several small, round baubles with purple centers.

"Alright, so all we're gonna do is ninja up there, ninja a few of these around the perimeter, and then ninja out."

"That sounds just like the time future Leo saved a war camp!" Mikey giggles. "Or whatever Casey Jr. said."

"Uh, okay?" Raph offers. "I'll pretend like I understood that."

The two exit the vehicle and slink around the block, coming up on the building.

It looks like a normal building. No more than 13 stories, small windows with frosted glass, a rotating door that leads to a small lobby, a few security guards and an intern behind a desk. There's graffiti on the side of the wall, with what looks like an artist's rendition of the 'New York Heroes'. Mikey takes a quick selfie with it before getting back to the unsanctioned mission.

"You take the left side, I'll take the right," Raph whispers. "We don't have a lot of listening gadgets, so use 'em sparingly. Got it?"

"Got it!" Mikey whispers back.

He takes his chucks out and swings them up. A long glowing chain activates, and Mikey starts to scale the wall, swinging to the opposite side.

Raph starts pressing the small devices to the wall, doing two for each floor. Once the gadgets stick to the bricks, the purple centers start to blink.

After about five minutes, Raph's phone buzzes. He pulls it out to see that he's getting a call from Donnie.

Uh-oh.

He declines the call.

He presses two more devices to the wall before Donnie calls him again. Raph groans and pulls the phone out, answering it.

"Hello?"

"Oh, Raphala, where are you?" Donnie asks. His tone sounds cheerful and fake. He can tell he's seething.

"Um, nowhere..."

"Nowhere? Really? Then, would you care to explain to me why I am getting bombarded with notifications about my spy tech being activated? And why when I checked the garage, the tank was gone? And why I cannot find you, nor Mikey, nor your gear anywhere within the lair??"

"Um... bad connection?" Raph tries.

"What are you doing."

"Nuthin'," Raph says, his voice squeaking. He clears his throat and tries again. "Just, y'know... ninja stuff."

"I can clearly see your location, Raph."

"Shoot, I forgot about that," he hisses. "I mean, uh..."

"Is that Raph?" Leo's voice comes into the call.

"Oh no," he groans.

"Let me talk to him."

"You had your chance," Donnie speaks into the phone, before handing it over to Leo.

"Raph. Where are you. What are you and Mikey doing with the listening devices."

"Okay, well, we were thinking," he starts, moving away from the alley for a moment as he talks with Leo on the phone. "We were thinking that maaayyybeee it would be a good idea to get some surveillance on the EPF place before our next big mission, and so --"

"And so you ignore the fact that I said to wait?!" Leo yells angrily. "Raph, we TALKED about this! I thought you said you were gonna let me be leader without pulling these kinds of stunts behind my back!"

"I'm not pulling any stunt! All we're doing is setting up the devices, then leaving! We just wanted to try and see if we could get any intel on them to help! We're not stupid enough to just go in and mess around, ya know!"

"Where's Mikey?" Leo asks exasperatedly. "He isn't answering his phone."

Raph turned back to look at the building he's walked away from. He looks up, and can see Mikey standing on the roof, looking around.

"He's on the roof," Raph sighs. "I'll go and get him."

Raph puts Leo on hold as he runs back to the building. Once in the alley, he starts jumping between walls, doing impressive parkour as he bounces back and forth and flips off of fire escapes until he's at the roof.

But Mikey isn't there.

Raph walks to the other side of the roof and looks over the edge.

Mikey isn't on the ground.

He notices a vent panel has been jimmied open.

"Oh no."

Raph grabs his phone.

"Um, Leo? I think he went in..."

"WHAT?!" Leo screams at him, causing Raph to pull his phone away from his ear.

"Why would he go in?!"

"I don't know!" Raph whimpers. "I told him we were only doing the exterior--"

"You shouldn't be there at all!"

"Should I go in after him?"

"No, don't -- wait for a minute, call him, maybe he'll answer you."

"Okay, yeah, I'll do that," he says, trying not to panic. "Call you back soon."

Raph hangs up and quickly dials Mikey.

It rings once before he answers.

"Shello?" he whispers.

"Mikey? Where are ya?!" Raph hisses at him. "I thought we said no inside stuff!"

"I saw a weird van pull up," he explains. "They took a krangified person in through the back."

"They what?"

"Yeah, I know. I wanted to see what they were gonna do with him."

"Mikey, I think you should get outta there," Raph whimpers.

"I will in just a sec, I think I found the room where... huh..."

Mikey's voice trails off.

"Mikey? Mikey, what is it?"

"I'm not sure... hold on a sec, 'kay?" Mikey whispers, his voice soft and secretive.

"Mikey, get out of there, now!" Raph scolds.

Mikey doesn’t respond.

Raph waits for him to say something. Anything. He hears Mikey gasp quietly.

"Ohmigosh," he whimpers. His voice is weak and his breathing fast. "Okay, that's enough for me, I'm coming out now!"

"Mikey?! What did you see, what's going on?"

He hears a clattering sound, a stifled gasp, muffled shouting.

"I dropped my phone," Mikey whimpers in fear. "I think they heard me."

"GET OUT NOW!" Raph yells. He dials Leo, adding him to the call.

"Raph? What's going --"

"Mikey's been made," Raph says in a panic.

"Get ouy of there, now!"

"Leo?" Mikey whispers nervously. "Is that you?"

"Mikey, we're on our way now, just get out as fast as you can! Don't worry about whether or not you're seen, just get out!"

"I'm trying!" Mikey cries nervously. "I'm stuck in the vents!!"

Raph hears a loud clang, followed by Mikey's screams and a thud.

"There he is!"

"Get him!"

"Come'ere, kid!"

Mikey yells in protest, terrified screams as he shouts at them to 'let me go, stop, leave me alone!'

Raph yells out into the phone. He's not sure what he yells, only that he wants Mikey back. He hears Leo yelling, too.

"Raph! Leo!" Mikey screams.

"MIKEY!!" the two yell back in unison.

The line goes dead.

A blue light ignites besides Raph, and Leo jumps through immediately, gasping for air as he stares down at Raph, who is on his hands and knees, holding the phone like it was Mikey's only lifeline.

"Where is he?" Leo pants. "Where is Mikey?"

Raph can't do anything but shake.

Mikey got captured... Because of him...

.

.

.

Raph lifts his face from the army of plushies he has been confiding in.

He takes in a deep breath.

He stands, going to a drawer and pulling out the wraps from that day. Almost a week ago.

The drawings are still there. The sketches and doodles are all intact. The image of a family is there, with each member colour-coded. Red, Blue, Purple... but it's missing their Orange brother. He never did get to finish that portrait.

Raphael leaves his train car and walks over to Mikey's. The door is wide open.

Inside, he sees Leo, slumped over on a beanbag chair and snoring softly, his mouth fallen open.

He hadn't said anything about sleeping in here.

He must've wanted to check on Mikey, too...

Raph grabs of one the extra blankets and pillows and adjusts his brother so that he can sleep more comfortably.

He takes residence in another beanbag chair opposite him.

Once settled, Raphael watches Mikey, who is sleeping peacefully and undisturbed, his tail swinging from side to side and his claws twitching on occasion.

Raph sighs.

Tears silently streak down his face as he cries himself to sleep.

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[mamawasatesttube]

“Wait! Please— I’m sorry, just— wait.” for the game?

"Don't"—Kon rips the last strip of medical tape and presses it into place against Tim's upper arm, his hands gentle even though his voice is furious—"ever do that again. Promise me."

Tim leans his head back against the headrest and closes his eyes. His shoulder throbs with pain; ibuprofen can't do that much against a bullet wound. It was a clean shot, though, just through muscle, not hitting bone, so it'll heal fine.

"I'm not making that promise, and you know it," he answers, a few seconds late.

Kon inhales sharply, as if Tim has just slapped him. Then—

"Fine," he hisses. Tim opens his eyes just in time to see him shoot back to his feet and whirl on his heel. He takes two furious strides towards the door before Tim's sluggish sense of alarm slams into action and adrenaline surges through his chest, because Kon's leaving and Tim can't—!

"Wait!" Tim pushes away from the wall and stands. He's a little woozy from blood loss, yeah, but that pales in importance when Kon's about to vanish. "Please—I'm sorry, just—wait."

But Kon isn't in front of him any longer. He was too late. Or maybe Kon was just too upset with him. And—

"Sit back down, idiot," Kon's voice says, behind him, and strong hands catch him just as he wobbles. When did Kon get so close? "You need to replenish your fluids before you go gallivanting off to be a self-sacrificial idiot again."

Kon eases him back down into the armchair. Tim pinches the bridge of his nose with his good arm, the world spinning.

"It didn't kill me," he mutters. "It's just a flesh wound. Why are you so worked up about it?"

Even dizzy as he is, he can still see Kon stiffen at his side. "Because—!" Kon jerks away, wrapping his arms around himself. "That was a fucking kryptonite bullet, Tim. That was meant for me. You shouldn't—why would you—"

"Because it was meant for you." Tim closes his eyes again. He's exhausted. He needs Kon nearby. Just... so he can be sure he's okay.

Kon lets out a distressed, unhappy noise. "That doesn't mean—it's still a bullet, you stupid little—"

"I know!" Tim bursts out. He opens his tired eyes to glare at Kon. "I know it's a bullet! I felt it go through my damn shoulder, Kon, I promise I know it's a bullet!"

Kon glares right back. "Then why would you—"

"Because I can't lose you again!"

The words hang in the air between them as heartbeats tick by. Kon's impossible, luminous eyes are wide, his lips slightly parted. His eyelashes are thick and dark; the shades pushed up into his hair are cracked. He's so beautiful Tim could weep.

How can he make him understand? He saw the green glow, he saw the gun pointed at Kon's chest, and he—it wasn't an active thought. He just saw a golden statue in his mind's eye, and he moved. He can't lose Kon again. He can't live through that again. He can't.

"Rob," Kon murmurs. His voice is gentle, all the frustration melted away. He reaches over, cradles Tim's cheek in a warm, smooth hand. Tim presses into his touch, his chest suddenly tight. "You're not gonna lose me."

"I can't," Tim repeats a little hoarsely. "So I can't make you that promise."

Kon blows out a deep, tired sigh. "We'll... talk about it later," he says. "For now, I just... I want you to drink that Gatorade I got you. Okay? You need fluids with electrolytes."

Tim chews at his lip. The bottle sits innocuously on the side table. "Okay."

Without being asked, Kon opens it for him. He presses it into Tim's good hand, and then—

He leans down, his shadow falling over Tim's face, and brushes a tender kiss to Tim's forehead. He lingers, as Tim's breath catches in his throat, his lips pressed to Tim's skin. He can definitely hear the way Tim's heart beats faster as Tim sits there, wide-eyed, as sparks shoot through his entire body and fill him with a strange, fluttery warmth.

Kon draws back and sinks to his knees. He leans against Tim's legs and rests his head in Tim's lap. None of his fury and dismay from just a few minutes ago remain; if anything, he just looks... melancholy.

"You're not gonna lose me again, Robbie," he says softly. "I'm here."

Tim takes a sip of his Gatorade to quell the lump in his throat. He carefully threads the fingers of his other hand into Kon's messy curls. "Yeah," he says, his voice a little smaller than he'd like it to be. "You are."

[amaureas-blog]

Jedediah Shine x female reader smut

Summary: You’ve just given in the inspector's invitation to accompany him home to.. do things.. 

Genre: (Reader) Smut, PWP

Warnings: Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, non-negotiated choking, dirty talk

Word Count: 2,899

A/N: Just Porn. No introduction or anything we dive right into the smut. No beta. Plus, I wrote this one my phone because my notebook broke.

I shouldn't have given in so quickly to the inspector's invitation to accompany him home. But here I was now, sitting on his lap, his large hands rubbing warmth back into me, after walking here through the cold rainy breeze that was London's weather.

He had already peeled me off one layer of my clothing. Now only dressed in my under skirts and corset, I ran my hands over his chest, unbuttoning his waistcoat, while his hungry mouth was on mine, kissing me greedy.

I peeled him out of his waistcoat, before pushing off his suspenders. My fingers nervously started to fiddle with his trousers, feeling him hard as a brick underneath the fabric.

He broke the kiss, a snorted chuckle escaped his lips. “Someone's being a little impatient.”, he said, but I could tell by his smirk that he actually liked it. His large, calloused hands went under my skirt, grabbing my thighs and working their way up, before I felt two of his fingers rubbing over my cunt. “Is that little cunny so desperate for my cock?” I answer him with a moan and a quick nod.

He stroked over my hot and wet core a few times, before impaling me on two of his long fingers. I arched my back, throwing my head back, moaning again. “C’mon, girlie. Say it.”, he demanded, but I felt myself unable to form any words.

I tried to push myself more onto his fingers, to make him understand how much I needed him, but the inspector withdrew himself from me, leaving me whimpering and mourning the loss of his fingers inside me.

His hand came up to grab my chin, forcefully, to make me look at him. “I don't like repeating myself.”, he said impatiently.

I moved on his lap, desperate for some friction to ease the itching between my legs. “Please..” I feel him between my legs, hard and huge. “Please, fuck me, inspector Shine.” A hungrily glint sparkled in his eyes and his jaw worked with pleasure.

He pushed me off of him and got up with me, his hands caressing my arms, before pulling me against him, his lips kissing me roughly. My hands slid through his hair, before they rested in his neck.

The kiss didn't last long before his hands ripped open my corset, ruining it to my horror. “Who’s being impatient now, inspector?”, I teased, grinning up at him. “I hope you consider replacing it.”

“Depends on whether you will be a good girl, or not.”, he cooed, cupping my left breast and pinched my nipple between his index finger and thumb.

I hissed slightly and bit my bottom lip. “What will you have me do to prove to you I'm a good girl?”, I breathed seductively to him. His lips curled into a smirk.

“You can start by getting down on your knees, girl.” He really didn't have to tell me twice. Submissively I sank to my knees in front of him and heard him drawing a sharp breath.

I caught his gaze briefly before my eyes focused on his breeches. I could tell it was time to rid the inspector of them. I could see his incredible length apparent under the fabric. Excitedly I gasped for air before my fingers opened his fly and I found myself licking my lips.

As his cock sprung free into my hand, I was actually whimpering with excitement and felt my cunt clenching around nothing at the mere sight of it. Hell, yes. I was desperate for this cock.

“You just gonna stare at it, or are you actually going to suck me off?”, I heard him say with a dark chuckle. I was sure he took enormous pride in his remarkable manhood.

I looked up at him as I closed my hand around his shaft to gave him a few gentle strokes, before I leaned forward and closed my lips around his tip. I work my head and hand together for a while, as I work my way to fit his entire length into my mouth. His musky smell filled my nose, as I inpale my throat on his cock, my nose brushing his pubic hair and I get a low groan from him.

“That's it, girlie.”, his voice reached me, low and praising, sending a shiver down my spine. Both his hands grabbed my head now, keeping me right where he wanted me, before he started to thrust into my mouth until I gagged on him.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes and tried to breathe through my nose as best I could, while he was bruising my throat with a brutal pace. After a short time my hands came up to his waist to push him away from me so that I could gasp for air.

He growled, somewhat in disapproval, but let me catch my breath. He then grabbed my hair and pulled my head back so I was looking up to him. I gasped a little in pain. “You better learn to hold your breath while I fuck your throat.” I felt like I disappointed him, so I nodded quickly. The look he gave me told me he wanted my word on that.

“I’ll be better next time.”, my voice sounded quieter than intended, but the inspector nodded satisfied.

“Good. Now get up.” I felt like a puppet, he said something and I hopped to it. For a moment I was afraid that this might bore him in the long run.

Even though Jedediah Shine seemed like a man who didn't tolerate getting denied anything, I still believed that a little challenge here and there, a little back talk even, would certainly arouse him. Perhaps I’d try to challenge him in the future. For now I got up and rid myself of the underskirt I was still wearing.

Now totally naked and exposed for Shine’s hungry eyes, I felt my heart beating in my throat as his eyes roamed greedily over my curves. Then he peeled himself off his own shirt and trousers. I watched him impatiently and surreptitiously bit my lower lip as more and more of his body was revealed. He was so well built and my fingertips itched to explore every inch of his body.

“You look like you’re hungry for dinner.”, he said, stepping closer, before he wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me flat against him.

A whimpering moan escaped my lips, feeling his muscles against my curves and his hard cock against my belly. “Sure am hungry.”, I admitted whispering. My gaze darted back and forth between his eyes and his lips.

“Then, scoot, to bed.”, he said, placing a slight slap on my behind, before we headed to his bed, where he lay flat on his back and pulled onto his lap.

I was a bit surprised to find myself seated on top of him, since I had the feeling that Jedediah Shine was a man who loved to be in control of things. Not that I thought I had any control as he roughly grabbed me by the hips and pulled me deeper into his lap, pressing his hips against me so that I could feel him hard and throbbing against my cunt.

I bit my lip at the attempt not to moan, even if I was extremely aroused. “No need to hold back, luv.”, his deep voice whispered to me. “It's not like anyone would hear you here anyway.” To me it almost sounded like a threat and perhaps it was meant to frighten me, but honestly it just made me feel more aroused.

I rolled my hips against his and let out a lovely moan for him, my hands resting on his chest, his hands tugging on my hips.

“Come here, girlie. Sit on my face.”

I do as he commented, my cunt weeping with excitement of what was about to come. His deep voice once again sent a shiver down my spine. I move on top of him, my knees left and right of his head.

“Yes, get your pretty ass up here.”, he growled almost impatiently, bringing his large hands up to cup both my buttocks. His fingers grabbed my flesh rough, almost brutally.

Pulling me closer to his hungry mouth like that, I gasped when I first felt his hot breath caressing my inner thigh, followed by his lips on my hot and aching core.

I felt how I immediately melted against him. My head went dizzy and my legs started shaking. Closing my eyes, head leaning back, my hands rested on his forearms for support. His tongue licked down to my entrance, warm and wet and wonderful. His beard scratched tenderly between my legs.

My breathing got heavier. My breasts rose and fell and a moan escaped my lips at the wonderful work the inspector did between my legs. I started moving my hips, but Shine responded with a disapproving growl and a smack to my ass, that had me jumping slightly.

I understood that I wasn't allowed the pleasure of riding his face, not yet. So I tried to keep my hips still even as he thrusted that devilish tongue inside me. I moaned with a shiver. He hummed darkly, his hand kneading my ass as if he wanted to tear me apart. The pain along with the pleasure was indescribable.

Then another smack to my ass made me cry out, leaving my skin sore and bruised by his rough hands. “Please..”, I begged him and his lips moved to suck on my clit, his tongue circling the small bead. “Oh, yes..”

He started eating out my cunt with vigor, sending shiver after shiver through my body. Shivering hard under the bulding pleasure that spread from my arousal through my whole body I started to move my hips, having his tongue and lips right there where I needed them the most. And this time he allowed it with an approving low growl which vibrated against my clit.

I feel another gush of arousal dripping down my cunt. His pacing was perfect. I felt my chest tighten almost painfully as the pleasure was building up inside me.

It came too soon; a bodyshaking orgasm, that have me moaning, screaming even. I press my cunt firmly onto his face, his tongue overstimulating me to the point that my brain went blank for a few seconds. It was pure bliss.

I was panting heavy when my climax wore off slowly. If my ears weren't ringing so much, I might have heard the inspector gasping for air himself. When his hands released me, I slipped off him and sank onto the bed next to him.

While I was still catching my breath I felt him moving next to me. Exhausted, I blinked slightly and saw him wiping away my wetness out of his beard. And just like that he was on top of me. My body almost limp from the heavy orgasm I just had.

With expert hands he spread my legs, positioned himself between them, taking hold of the base of his cock, before he forced himself all the way inside me.

Whimpering I took him, still too exhausted from what he just did to me. I wished he had given me a bit more time to recover from the first climax. My cunt was still too sensitive and tightened around him, when he started thrusting.

My hands came up against his firm chest, and as if he needed to prove his strength, I felt him flex his muscles in a boastful manner. There was not a single soft spot about this man.

His manicing eyes were fixed on my face and my breast, that bounced with each of his mighty thrust. My hands moved into his neck for an attempt to pull him down for a kiss, which was denied. For a moment I thought I saw a small, teasing smirk on his face. A pleading whimper escaped my lips, which only seemed to amuse him even more.

“What do you want?”, he teased me like it wasn't obvious and started thrusting harder and faster inside me, which made it difficult for me to form any words, since I was moaning under pleasure.

With my eyes closed and my head leaned back into the pillow I couldn't quite tell if it was pain or pleasure that drove me insane. He pounded inside me so heavy that my inner walls were clenching around him.

Suddenly I felt his large hand around my neck. His long fingers began to choke me, bruising my skin. An almost animalistic groan escaped his throat as he increased his pace again and I thought he was going to tear me apart like a hungry animal.

At first I was aroused by his hand that was wrapped around my neck. But the arousal soon gave way to fear when I couldn't breathe anymore.

Both my hands came up to his lower arm to try to take the pressure off my throat. When I realized that this didn't help, panic spread through me. He squeezed the breath right out of me. My eyes widened and I felt tears welling up in my eyes, running down the sides of my temples.

Then I hit his chest and upper arm with the palm of my hand to make him understand that I couldn't breathe anymore. When he finally loosened his iron fist around my neck, I gasped for air that was burning in my lungs. He stopped completely and watched me catch my breath.

I blinked up at him. His predatory eyes were trained on me. His hair was slightly disheveled and a few drops of sweat beaded from his forehead.

“You fucking..”, I reached out to give him a hard slap across the face, but he caught my wrist with almost perfected ease.

He pushed both of my wrists over my head, which I acknowledged with a whimper. His whole body pressing down on mine now, his face a few inches away from mine. I braced myself to get punished for attempting to slap him, but instead his lips were brushing against mine. I wanted to deny him the kiss, I wanted to be mad at him, but instead my lips were opening to him like a flower to the sun.

His tongue slipped inside my mouth, kissing me deeply, almost as if he wished to devour me. I could still taste myself upon his lips. Suddenly all the pain was worth the outcome of this perfect kiss.

His hips rolled against mine and I shivered, whimpering inside the kiss. By now my cunt felt so sensitive and sore that I didn't know how much more I could take. The kiss lasted another moment, before he broke it.

He started moving again, thrusting slowly.

“No.. I can't..”, I wasn’t sure if I could take any more.

“Oh, yes, you can.”, he said imperiously with a long and hard thrust. “I’m not finished with you yet, girlie. And you don't want to disappoint me, do you?” His words were like a dark promise that this was only a mere foretaste and that he could get much crueler when he was to be denied what he longed for.

I wondered if this man's hunger could ever be satisfied.

“You ain't gonna tell me that this little cunny already had enough of my thick dirty cock.” His vulgar mouth made me shiver once again. I wanted to give him all of me. I wanted to completely commit myself to this devilish man.

I loved the slow rhythm with which he now moved inside me. I pressed my hip against him, moved with him. “Good girl.”, he groaned next to my ear and thrusted hard into me again. I scream in pleasure.

Wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders, my nails digging into his skin for support. It drew a hiss from him and I’m almost a bit proud since he had bruised my throat so brutally before. But in exchange his pace became faster and more relentless.

“Fuck..”, I moaned. My lips formed his name as he pushed me over the edge again, moans turned into screams, as he continued to fuck me in a brutal pace, chasing his own release.

He was grunting, his hands bruising my wrists, as he still held them above my head. Then an animalistic groan rose in his throat, as he finally reached his climax and spouted his load into me.

After a few more lazy thrusts he collapsed on me. As I felt his weight on me and his hot breath on my neck, I ran my hand through his sweat-drenched hair, breathing heavily under him. His hands let go of my wrists and I felt his fingers gently tagging up in my hair, before he looked me in the face.

As he placed a soft kiss on my lips, I was a bit surprised, even shocked, how gentle his treatments now were unlike just a few moments before, when he was fucking me like a goddamn force of nature.

I was just about to melt into the kiss, when he withdrew. “I’m still not finished with you, girlie. So don't even think about walking away from me.”

Did he not know that I'm already completely devoted to him?

[lost-creatures]

"Hot Cougars in your area". She'd seen the ads a hundred times before, they were probably the only motherfuckers willing to advertise on these piece of shit message boards, and most of them were just scams anyway. This time though:

Reader Discretion Advised: Eaten Alive, hard vore, snuff, vomit, musk, yuri, t4t MINORS DNI

So I do as I'm told and walk away from my campsite in the middle of the night without telling anyone. We didn't have to go far— just some state park in the mountains above the suburbs. An arid montane scrubland echoed across the rolling surface, its reds and yellows muted to grey and blue in the winter moonlight. Three ridgelines deep into the mountains already. Just the hike to the backcountry campsite beat my ass, so my legs are screaming as I walk into the cold.

/

it was an unlicensed app, right? but you know the website seemed normal enough and i figured that if this worked, i wouldn't really care what they did with whatever got left behind. enough debt to buy a house i guess? i thought i'd been fucked anyway, made a profile and went 2 weeks without a response or message. they're just gonna rob me, huh? this is even better than Lex.

i really needed a girl to pin me down and start tearing into me, nobody ever goes hard enough goddammit. if you want something done right i guess you need to find the real deal.

i almost deleted the app, told myself two days in a row that i should. then, a photo, a mass, the clash of textures between corded muscle and gelatinous organ, heaped onto the dust at night. the kind of thing you'd see on a trail cam, but the angle was wrong.

how can i reply? i can't just hit her with the keysmash, how many women like her can even admit they'd want to do this to you. prey have to stand out a bit more these days, predator populations are way down.

"hey um, is that your work? i really liek it ;3"

fuck goddammit its over im fucking blowing it

"thnk u for noticing meeeee!~"

i'll just kms i'm cooked

"sorry i, the composition of the piece is very strong. the way the textures of the corpse contrast with the dusty landscape, acts to draw your focus as much as the border of the spot lighting and surrounding darkness. the off center lighting creates an almost sfumato effect along the massing, creating beautiful shadow shapes. would you want a new subject? ;3"

"Hahaha, you're cute aren't you?"

my rizz is unlimited

"We should meet. Do you know Henry Coe?"

/

Going back down the 22% grade is harder than climbing it and made even worse by the loose gravelly surface and the too many gin and tonics I had after we made camp. My boot catches a rock as I leave the trail and my knees hit the rocks. It hurts, but I'm having trouble finding the meeting spot, maybe some blood on the trail will help her find me. It feels like she's already on top of me. There's a pressure in the air and it makes every crack and shift in the earth reverberate across the slope. In that moment I can hear every motion every breath under the scrub. There's nothing, just wind howling over the crest of Mount Sizer. But I can feel her boring into me. I keep waiting for her to collide with me, knock me to the ground. I want her I want her inside me.

I want to be ready so I strip my torn clothing from my body.

This has to be the spot, the singular tree matches the photo she sent. I sit, bare ass shivering on the stone under the tree and wipe the fresh beads of blood down my knees, only managing to make a big red smear reaching halfway down my shins. The premix gin and tonics from the campsite start to fight their way back up my throat.

"I didn't think you were gonna show." she's smiling. Her stare pierces through me like I'm not even there. Its entrancing.

Her amber felid form followed my same path along the mountainside and into this depression. A little bit of my blood already stains her muzzle.

"You're Eloise? You know you shouldn't give your real name out to strangers on the internet, right?" She stretches the last word out, lilting, like she's trying hard not to laugh.

I'm struggling to respond through the boozy haze, the biting wind, and the nerves I get just looking at her. "i didn't really think it mattered" I uncurl a bit and she finally gets a look at my face. "can i know yours?"

She jumps, pounces, closing the distance between us faster than I can react. The full weight of her body hits me square between the breasts. Between her body and the rocks beneath every last wisp of air is pressed from my lungs. Her scent hits me all once as I gasp for air, she's actually wild, fuck. Her stink is acrid, acidic, astringent, its the kind of smell that sucks the moisture out of the air and dries out your mouth. I don't gag so much as start panting and straining towards her. "Its Tiffany." Planted on my sternum she makes every breath a labor and I barely manage to whisper a reply.

"i… i…"

I've wanted this for so long but I never thought I'd get this far. I have no idea what to say.

She shifts her weight into my guts and the sick I've been holding back overtops the lump in my throat and pours weakly down my chin. I gag into my chest as my entire body contracts and the waves of my vomit splash flecks of evidence into the fur of her breast and forelegs.

"Its okay kiddo, you don't have to say anything"

"please," I'm coughing up the heavier stragglers stuck in my throat, "you're beautiful" It just burns now. "i need you to take everything from me"

She laughs and looks down, guiding my eye to her massive paws pressing into the plush of my abdomen. To the contents of my stomach emptied over my still flat chest and softening waistline, dripping off in chunks. The tips of her claws poke from their cuticle in their round furred sheath. Fully deployed, each one looks like a karambit, sharpened just for me. She runs her paws gently over my belly, the touch imperceptable over that of the scouring wind, and still, red and black beads follow in the trail she leaves. The roughness of her underpaw brushes past my aching nipples. I can't help but gasp at the burst of sensation attacking my touch starved corpus. She cups her mouth over my breast and gently rolls the small lump of fat around with her tongue, punctuating herself by flicking the tensed tip against my nipples. I can barely process how desperately horny I am. Between my love life sequestered behind a screen and my newly sensitive flesh, I was unprepared. Warmth spreads where my cunt should be and I can't help but grind weakly against her soft underbelly. The first hardon I've had in weeks, I'm almost crying. She pauses a moment and grins down at my weak erection to let me frot against her own growing studded clit. She pins my wrists against the stony ground and puts her hips into it. I'm screaming, the feeling is so intense it almost edges into painful. She's growling feral in my ear, gravel infiltrating her saccharine valley accent. God Fuck please I need it its fucking happening. I shoot; I didn't even know I could do that anymore. The thin mucus spraying from my tip coats the gap between us and she thrusts harder against my pelvis. When she shoots, it hits me in the chin so hard I yelp.

"You really are cute. I hope I can keep you." Her voice trails off and she looks down at me with pity or maybe resignation.

Held down by her impossible strength, she pulls open the soft flesh of my belly like a ripe persimmon. I scream and the sound is deadened and hurried away by the gusts up the windward side of the mountain. Her snout pushes into the freshly wet cleft and I feel her buried deep inside my guts. She works her way underneath my ribs, my chest swelling at the foreign addition. There is a new pressure in me as she nibbles at my liver, the taut wet bulge of organ fills her mouth. I feel her tugging at me with suction at the back her her throat. Her teeth sink into me and the shifting cords of her stiff neck pull with enough force to tear the dark mass free. I sit in a howling void, fully part of that world. I am pure energy bursting forth from a charred vessel. Steam rises around the internal heat bleeding external, a pocket in our frigid night. Spread thin over the earth, I hope she makes eye contact with me while she chews at the choice cuts. She looks back at me, almost bashful at the intimacy held in our stares.

She lays by my side devouring me. Her cum pools in my jugular notch, stained pink with flecks of blood. A tongue like a wave of sand cleans my blood from my outstretched hand. She works her way between each of my fingers all the way down to the webbing. Rolling them over and over with that wet muscle. She knows exactly what she's doing, she's still finding ways to tease me back to ecstasy. In one smooth motion she pulls the hand into her mouth, laying the wrist perfectly along her incisors, canines neatly out of the way. And she bites, gently at first, and then the muscles in her jaw tighten and contract. Blood oozes forth and then sprays from the base of the bite. The radiocarpal ligaments snap apart in suddenly relived tension and her teeth smash themselves between my many carpal bones. My hand spasms, articulated by pain, and she rolls her bite just enough. The back of my hand hits the wet of her hard palate and every nerve in my hand screams as it comes away in her mouth. She pins the arm under her while she sucks at the meat of my hand.

its too much its everything im scared i cant

I come to and the wind's died down a little, the moon's not quite where it used to be. I guess you can live a pretty long time with your guts out and no liver. Longer than I'd have thought anyway. A stump of a wrist bounces off a rock as she drags me. The edges are black with either dried blood or frostbite. I'm not sure how much longer I have left, but every second I get with her is an eternity.

[v3nusxsky]

Lesso X Reader where Reader is a Knight and a Professor teaching combat. After a long day of classes, they retired to their shared quarters. Reader calling Lesso her queen, and Lesso teasing reader about how they should obey everything she says because she is their queen. Reader just grins. They then share a bath together, some body worship, soft making out, and just some sweet moments.

Lesso may look like the dominant one in their relationship, but she just loves to give in and sink onto Reader. Reader just loves pampering her queen.

<33

Queen and her knight| fluff/ slight NSFW

*Authors note~ requests are starting to fill up again so I'm gonna try and work through them as quickly as I can guys. Not doing so great tonight but just wanted to let you know I love your ideas and I thank you for your patience with me*

Trigger warning~ body worshipping

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

Being a knight for Queen Regina of the dark kingdom was truly something else. You'd progressed up through the ranks rather quickly and that made you one of Regina's personal knights rather quickly. But after years of serving your oath and seeing her son Henry grow you'd been discharged of duty. Still being rather young but unable to continue your service due to an injury protecting Prince Henry. That left you with an honourable discharge.

For that reason, you ended up at the School for Good and Evil to teach the Nevers and Evers about combat, how to defend and attack when needed. You enjoyed teaching the students what you learned from your years in the Queens guard. The students seem to love having a knight teaching them, not just a knight but a female knight. It was rare for a female knight to exist let alone be as decorated as you are.

That's what drew Leonora's attention to you. You began to court one an other and truly you didn't think you'd been happier than this. You'd happily spend the rest of your days doting on Leonora as if she was a Queen, well she was, she was your queen. You made sure to shower her with all the love and attention she could need, while being there to support her and hold her in tough times.

One of Leonora's favourite things was to soak in the tub with her back resting on your front. The hot water soothing her and soothing your aching muscles for the classes that day. But tonight you had a slightly different idea.

"Leo, my queen, can you come sit with me love?" You whispered as you both entered your shared quarters, knowing she would head straight to draw a steaming hot bath. She sat on the bed as you kneeled in front of her, "queen? Well then knight shouldn't you be obeying my every whim?" She taunted you with a smile. Truly she knew how you saw her, how you treated her and she saw you in a similar light. Her protective knight with a big heart and the most wonderful personality.

Leonora brought her hand down to cup your jaw, "rise my knight" she murmured causing you to stand up and claim her lips with yours in a sweet passionate kiss. "Look at my good knight, obeying your queen" she chuckled and you grinned against her lips. "Only for you my Queen, I pledge my life long service to ensuring you are safe, well and loved" you dropped your head to kiss her cheek before padding away to the bathroom and running your bath. Adding a few petals and a lovely lavender scent into the steaming water, "my queen! Your bath is ready beautiful" you called for her.

Once you'd both settled into the water, in Leo's favourite position you couldn't help but run your fingers all over her exposed skin. You couldn't help but drop kisses to her shoulder, neck and cheeks. Really anywhere you could reach while whispering words of love and reminding her how beautiful she is inside and out. The woman lay still and quiet, apart from the quiet whimpers when your hands caressed a particularly sensitive area of skin. You made sure to focus and touch every inch of her skin with feather light touches. "My queen, you are simply stunning, there's no one else I'd rather spend the rest of my life with. Look at you Leo. Look at how beautiful you are love" you whimpered before turning her head to gaze into the mirror. She could see how her eyes were half lidded in a contented pleasure, as your fingers trailed over her skin drawing the prettiest whimpers of need from her.

"You're so beautiful Leo, and all mine." You murmured before standing to drain the tub and help your queen of the bath before wrapping her in a towel and carrying her bridal style into the bedroom. You effortlessly laid her down on the bed, kissing her with such a need and passion her head was spinning, you made quick work of removing the towel and sinking to your knees. "Let me worship you my queen, let me make you feel good Leo" you whimpered against the pale skin of her thigh, kisses being placed everywhere but where you desired to be. You wouldn't until she said you could and when she whined a simple "please my knight" you couldn't stop yourself from diving in and lapping at her core.

To say you made her feel good was an understatement, the poor woman had whines and mewls tumbling from her lips as if it were her job. You didn't stop after one blissful climax, no you made sure to give her as much as she could handle, all while reminding her how precious and perfect she was. Evil isn't born Evil, it's made. And for you, as long as you had Leonora by your side, to worship and cherish for the rest of your lives then who cared? About good and evil, about right and wrong? Did it truly make that much of a difference. For you, no but love? Now that made the world of difference.

Word count~ 1013

[whiskey-bumblebee]

trick for hotch pls!

"It's Halloweeeeeeeeen!" Penelope grins.

Derek just grins and squeezes her shoulder. "How many Long Island ice teas have you had, sweetcheeks?"

Penelope holds up one hand, staring at her fingers, waiting for them to mimic the number she's seeing in her head.

JJ and Emily are already out on the dancefloor, and Spencer had stayed home, so it was just you, Derek, Penelope, and a somewhat out-of-it looking Aaron.

"I should get her home," Derek says.

Penelope starts protesting, but just as she does, Snoop Dogg's 'Drop It Like It's Hot' starts playing, and your arm shoots out to smack Derek in the chest.

"Dance with me? I love this song."

Derek huffs a laugh. "Dance with your man. We gotta get going."

To prove your point, you raise your eyebrows at Derek before looking over at Hotch.

"No," He says firmly.

You look back over at Derek. He sighs. "One song. But Hotch, c'mon man, what's the point in coming to the bar if you're gonna sit there and look miserable?"

Hotch's scowl just deepens.

"Nice costume, by the way."

Aaron adjusts his cat ears self-consciously. It had taken all of your persuasive powers to get him into even those- and since they were dark and the bar was poorly lit, they were barely visible. Aaron took them off nonetheless.

As the bridge starts, you grab Derek's hand, and glance over at Pen.

"We'll be right back, Penny," You grin.

Derek starts swaying from side to side as you lead him to the dance floor. Your face immediately brightens now that you're in happier company.

"What's gotten into Hotch?" Derek shouts over the music.

You shrug. "He didn't want to come out."

Derek laughs. "He's moping because he thought he was gonna get some and he isn't?"

You shrug again. "I don't know. He knows he'll get it later, so who knows."

JJ and Emily join you, and the four of you form the world's smallest dance circle. Emily and JJ whoop as you sway your shoulders, and more importantly, drop it like it's hot. Derek laughs and claps, and you can't help but grin.

"Snooooop!" You laugh. Derek mouths along to the words, and you push him into the dance circle, switching with him. He mouths the words for a line or two, then drops to the floor and starts to do the worm. You, JJ, and Emily all shout in delight, which draws the attention of some pretty women who eye Derek, impressed.

He stands up and dusts himself off, and shakes his head when a sea of phones are extended his way. He wraps his arm around your shoulders as the women disperse, and presses a kiss to the side of your head.

"Have a good night. I'm gonna take my baby home," Derek explains to JJ and Emily. They both nod and give him a quick hug.

"Maybe Hotch will join us once they leave," JJ shouts.

Emily nods.

But as you watch Derek help Penelope out of the booth, and send her a quick wave as they go, Aaron stays squarely in place.

"What's up his ass?" Emily frowns.

You shrug. "Let's just enjoy a few more songs and then I'll take him home."

//////////////////////////////////

Hotch shifts uneasily in the driver's seat.

"We shouldn't do that again," He says sternly.

You eye him playfully.

"So you don't want to do anything when we get home?"

"That's not what I said," He manages a small smile. "I just don't think I'm into wearing a butt plug in front of my subordinates."

You can't help but laugh a little at his delivery, his clipped explanation.

//////////////////////////////

Sure enough, a few minutes later, you're hitting Hotch's prostate and he's whining beneath you, pressing his hips against your hand.

"So pretty," You croon. "In a better mood now?"

"Shut up," He whines.

You wrap your hand around his cock and stroke it slowly. "What was that?"

"I love you," He breathes.

"I thought so," You smile, pressing a warm kiss to his lips. He smiles into the kiss too, working his lips against yours.

And Emily might never know exactly what was up Hotch's ass that night, but she sends you a short email the next morning:

Whatever you did last night, it worked. Just asked Hotch when we need to have these reports in and he said "whenever they're finished." You're doing god's work! We love you <3 :)

[genericpuff]

…Here is something a bit more serious I wanted to ask…

How do feel when it comes the fact that plenty of sexual themes inside LO are being told incorrectly to a young audience (I keep hearing on how most of Webtoon readers are still around 12-16 year old girls)?

Specially with the fact that Rachel keeps on sexualizing Persephone after some scenes showcasing her trauma….

I hope I’m not overstepping my boundaries here…thanks again for listening.

You're not overstepping at all ! This is actually a topic I've gone off about in the past at length on reddit and in chatrooms like Discord so I'm always happy to divulge about it and talk about it. It's a problem that goes way bigger than LO but I'll try my best to keep it focused on LO for the sake of getting to the point.

Before I get into it, obligatory TRIGGER WARNING for discussion surrounding sexual trauma/abuse/etc. and how it's romanticized and marketed in Webtoons media.

There are so many comics in Webtoons library that are just skeevy beyond belief for the stories they're trying to tell. Whether it's gratuitous oversexualization of its characters to the point of being absurd, to the implications of the romances in these stories that often border on non-consensual/toxic, Webtoons seems to be using these types of things as its main draw in a lot of their "big money" series - or at least, the ones they tend to market the most.

Now don't get me wrong, I've got a strong stomach for weird/creepy/dark shit and I'm capable of having suspension of disbelief when reading stories like this. I'm an SA survivor myself but despite this, I'm no stranger to dark romance or stories that 'toe the line' or even overstep it completely between morally acceptable and morally apprehensible, a lot of these kinds of stories have actually helped me overcome and heal from what I've been through. Suspension of disbelief is important and this is, after all, fiction, where we as creators are able to explore taboo or 'forbidden' topics in ways that either interest us or empower us or just feel like fun to write.

But there's still a line to be drawn because I'm an adult person who has literary analysis skills and is capable of picking apart these stories and what they might be consciously - or subconsciously - teaching us or portraying. Kids and teens? They basically are what they eat. This isn't to say teenagers are stupid or anything of the sort, but I was a kid too once and I know I internalized a lot of media that I straight up shouldn't have been consuming at the time. And I do think a lot of webtoons on the WT platform specifically dangerously veer into that territory all for the purpose of money and clout.

Again, don't get me wrong, I love morally questionable or otherwise abrasive characters, I think they're fun to write and fiction is a great way to explore those kinds of dynamics (and I've had pals weirdly thank me for how much suffering I put my characters through LMAO). But I'm also not gonna sit here and bullshit people into thinking my main projects are meant for teens. They're not. My main protagonists are in a shitty toxic relationship that should not be romanticized. My main character is a hyperbolic self-insert reflection of how awful I used to be as a person and how I was at the center of all my own problems for years. You should be 18 at minimum if you want to read my work because the stuff I write about isn't appropriate for or wouldn't be able to be observed and accepted as just fiction the way most mature adults can.

Now I'm not saying my work is "deep" or anything like that, it's stupid fun weeb shit. But it's the kind of stupid fun weeb shit I wouldn't want a teenager internalizing or taking to heart. It's why I'll include plenty of disclaimers to remind people that my stuff is a work of fiction and I simply enjoy exploring these kinds of tropes and dynamics through my characters, but I do not condone their behavior or the things I represent in my work. I fully respect other creators and writers who do the same.

Rachel is not one of those people. Rachel doesn't do this. She tries to claim to be progressive while completely misrepresenting the things she writes. She doesn't actually care about these topics, she just wants you to think she cares about them. Don't get me wrong, there are other series on the platform that are absolutely problematic when it comes to this sort of thing (Webtoons looooves marketing them, blech) but Lore Olympus is the absolute pinnacle of irresponsible, the sum of everything that's wrong with Webtoons.

It gets constant special treatment - often times being put in the banner reel every time it updates and in the prime spots no less that are rarely ever given to other - far more thought-provoking and well-written - series that could really use the ad space.

It markets itself to kids and teens despite having subject matter that either isn't handled responsibly OR should be taken with a level of suspension of disbelief that a lot of teens/kids aren't capable of having.

And the subject matter that it does try to handle responsibly is flubbed entirely because they're leaving it up to the writing 'skills' of a privileged white woman from New Zealand who's either never lived these experiences or, those that she has, couldn't even write them into a narrative when she tries because she still exists with internalized biases that completely miss the mark because she's never tried to look at things with a viewpoint outside of her own.

She's just not a writer, full stop. But because it's Webtoon's golden goose, they market the shit out of it anyways and give it preferential treatment. And of course, they market it to kids and teens because it's cute and colorful, and kids and teens will be more likely to overlook its blatant problems because they don't have the literary analysis skills yet to identify them.

The other side of the coin they market to? The adults who don't think these problems are problems to begin with. These are the same adults who celebrated 50 Shades of Grey and After as if they're masterworks of fiction. Overall very shitty, problematic people. At least the teenagers have the potential to "grow out of it". The adults who defend Rachel like their life depends on it are grown up but not mature or empathetic in the slightest towards those who have found their own stories and experiences trivialized or otherwise misrepresented completely through LO.

I know, that's undoubtedly a lot of hot takes, but this is such a massive problem in romance stories today. I get it, it's "drama", and it's been around since the harlequin novels of old, but the way it's pushed and romanticized and presented as if it's somehow "couple goals" by the people - often women - who write them is getting to be exhausting.

At this point I put Rachel Smythe right up there with Anna Todd and EL James - ego-driven female "writers" who wrote shitty fanfiction that got a lot of views and happened to fail upwards in their success, but when you dig past the subscriber count numbers and the clout, they themselves are not that profound or well-read in any meaning of the word. They're just people with huge deeply-rooted issues who write problematic romances instead of going to therapy.

And that's all I'm gonna say on that.

[aquaticpal]

WIP Wednesday - Chrysalis

So the other day I promised to share something related to this post 🙂 This is a random OoT idea that popped up a few weeks ago, and I managed to nurse it into a full-blown comic script (thanks @aegon-targaryen for listening to my blabs). Now, I have a buuuunnnch of things to do before I have anywhere near the time to draw such a lengthy comic, so it's going to sit in this script form for a long time maybe forever. Still, I wanted to put it out here so that it at least exists in this form 😌

Chrysalis

Rating: G Word count: ~2000 Tags: canon divergence, fix-it fic, healing, let's pretend this is an AU where uhhh Navi doesn't exist

[desert sand dunes - night, around a campfire]

"Hahhh... Sheik, you saved me again..."

"A couple pieces of bread and dried meat was all it took, and you went traipsing across the desert without even that?"

"I had them! It just... didn't last as long as I thought...!

I used to stay out all night in the forest and got by fine just picking a few berries... dunno what happened..."

"You have a body twice the size to feed now. Idiot." "Oh... yeah..."

"Aren't you gonna have some, Sheik? (I feel weird eating by myself...)"

"I ate earlier. No need." "Pff, I know you're just trying to avoid taking down your mask, right? (It's fine, I get it)"

"My hands are occupied."

[Link stretches out under the wide, endlessly vast desert sky, full of stars]

"Thanks for the music. It's a real treat for the last night before the Spirit Temple tomorrow."

"After I clear the last temple... that'll be it, right? Then I'll be able to see Princess Zelda?"

"...Presumably."

"I wonder what she'll be like, after seven years... Hey Sheik, you know where she is, right? Do you talk with her? Have you met her?"

"As if I would divulge that information." "I guess I'll just have to find out tomorrow~"

"What if when you meet her,

she's not the perfect person that you imagine? What if she's actually selfish, or cowardly, or cruel?"

"What if she has blood on her hands?"

"Sheik."

[Link's hand has moved to the Master Sword.]

"You don't like Princess Zelda very much, do you."

"..."

"She is using you."

"She's my friend! She's not that kind of person. And I want to help her."

"Aren't the Sheikah supposed to be loyal to the Royal Family? Are you?"

"That is where my loyalty lies. The Princess can trust me to work for her goal, as can you. I have no obligation to like her as a person.

But perhaps you shouldn't trust me fully, either."

"You don't seem like a bad person. You've been helping me get to all the temples. And you've never tried to do anything bad to me even though you could sneak up on me anytime."

Besides, we're friends, aren't we?"

[plink] "You are far too quick to open your heart to others. You may have missed the past seven years, but in a world like this, there are many who would take the opportunity to strike at that openness."

"It's okay, I'm the Hero. I can take it." "You can't treat your own well-being so frivolously like that!"

"All of Hyrule's fate is dependent on you!"

"In a world like this... people need someone who opens their heart more than ever, don't they?

I'm lucky. I slept through all these years, and I woke up strong - strong enough to fight the evils in this world. Strong enough to help all the people who's been hurt and worn down by years of darkness.

So, I don't mind taking a few nicks or hits if it means giving a bit of hope to someone who needs it. It's what I'm made for.

I don't know where Zelda is, but... I hope she can see it, too. That all over Hyrule things are getting a little better, so wherever she is, hopefully things are a little brighter too."

[His optimism makes his face glow in the firelight. Sheik is silent.]

"She doesn't deserve you."

"You sound jealous." ("Don't be absurd!")

"I-I have to go." "Wait, hold--"

[behind a nearby rock formation, Sheik re-materializes, hands clenched]

===

[shot of clasped, gloved hands - Temple of Time] "...It was I, Zelda. Princess of Hyrule."

"I'm sorry for deceiving you all this time..." [Link steps forward, reaching out, hopeful]

!! [The room shakes, a crystal forms around Zelda]

[her vision blacks out, the last sight being Link inaudibly banging on the crystal]

"...Ganondorf... pitiful man..."

"Six Sages... now!"

"...the road between times... will be closed..."

"Link, give the ocarina to me.

As a Sage, I can return you to your original time with it."

[instead of giving the ocarina, Link reaches out and cradles her outstretched hand, like a wounded thing.]

"Are you all right?" "What... I..."

"You look so sad.

Back then, that time when you were talking as Sheik. You said you didn't like the Princess very much."

"It was my childish whims that threw Hyrule into ruin. I have to make amends for all the souls that suffered the price for my mistake. Most of all, you."

"Can I talk to Sheik?" "I..."

"That's just me, Link." "No"

"Even though Sheik was always behind a mask, It seemed like you could talk more truthfully then."

"Link, this isn't the time..." "This is the time! If you're going to send me back, if you want me to give you the ocarina... then at least I want to hear it from Sheik. I want to hear your true words."

"I..."

[Zelda turns away, huddled into herself]

[but silently and motionlessly, she Shifts]

"Can we go somewhere else?"

===

[Lake Hylia - the island with the warp pedestal]

"It's nice to be here without having to worry you'll run off again."

"You're not gonna run off, right?" "Link, please."

[they sit silently for a moment, looking out over the water]

"Is this what you really want? Will it make you happy?"

"This isn't about that. The people of Hyrule--" "That's not what I asked."

"...It doesn't matter." "I'm asking how you feel--" "It doesn't matter!"

[a silent moment.]

"Why do you hate Princess Zelda so much?"

"She was weak. All she could do was cower and hide. All she could do was wait while others fought and bled for her mistake."

"She befriended a brave, pure-hearted boy, only to take advantage of his kindness. She stole so much from him. From everyone."

"How can you even look at her? After what she's done?"

"..."

"After I woke up from the Sacred Realm, I met a lot of people who needed help. People who were beaten down and tired, and lost their hope and will. It was all they could do to hang on and get through each day, and some of them didn't make it."

"But not Zelda. She survived for seven years, and not only that, she traveled all across the land, even through all the dangers - all to make sure that her people were protected, and her hero could succeed."

"There would've been no hope in this land if she hadn't worked to keep it alive for seven years. And she kept this idiot hero alive, too."

"I think she's very strong. Even stronger than me. And she deserves to smile, too."

[Smiling - it's something she hasn't tried to do in a long time. Behind the mask, she is worn down, but tries feebly to mount one more defense]

"What about you? You deserve to be rewarded for your efforts and sacrifice, more than anyone."

"Wouldn't you rather go back to a world without turmoil? Wouldn't it ease your mind, knowing that you saved the lives of so many?"

"Yeah, but I'll know there's one person I haven't saved."

"The one person I most wanted to save." "Don't"

"I'll go back if you want me to. I'll do it if that's what you think is best, Zelda. But don't do it because you think hurting yourself is the only right thing to do, okay?"

"I swore, when I met you, that I would protect you, no matter what. Don't make me do something that would hurt you."

[Link takes her hand, and places the ocarina in it.]

"Please, promise me that whatever you choose... you'll do it with a smile."

[Cradling the ocarina, Sheik tries to gather her composure, but she cannot muster a smile. She looks down, defeated]

"...Will you forgive me, if I choose to be selfish?"

"You know what my answer would be. But I think I'm not the one you need to ask that to. Am I right?"

[A vision - Sheik stands looking down at a young Princess Zelda from seven years ago, bloodied and dirtied as if she had just escaped from the castle]

[Slowly, Sheik approaches and stoops to the young girl's level, and reaches out to pull her into an embrace.]

[In the real world, Sheik is wiping at her eyes]

"I'm sorry. Please stay"

[Perhaps, she's saying it to someone else, too. Link holds her, for a long time]

"Look, the sun's coming up."

[still leaning into each other, they look to the brightening horizon]

"This is a lot nicer than last time."

"When I threw a Deku Nut at you and ran away?" "Heh"

[Looking into the light, Sheik reaches up to her mask, and lowers it. She faces the sun for a moment, then looks up to face Link]

"Hi."

"It's good to meet you... at last."

[their faces are so close. She's moved to lean in and kiss him, just a little.]

"Sorry, I..." "Don't be sorry! That was nice. You're... nice."

"Can I kiss you too?" "Link, I..."

"This body... It's a male body." "So?"

"I thought you might not... like..."

"I like you. The real you. Without hiding. Without holding back."

[Blushing but touched, Sheik tucks her hair behind her ear, finally showing her full face.]

"All right, then."

[they do not hold back.]

===

[partially restored castle - Princess Zelda steps out of a political meeting, looking tired. Out of nowhere, Link tugs her around a corner for a kiss]

"L-Link! You can't just--I'm still Zelda!"

"What? Don't worry, no one's gonna see. (Promise)"

"It's not that, I... I thought you just liked... Sheik."

"I told you, I like you. Did you think I wouldn't want to kiss a beautiful princess?

Zel. You're no less kind, or brave, or hardworking, just because you're in a different body."

[she looks down for a moment, emotional, tempted to refuse. But then she looks up, with a smile.] 

"Okay."

[She steps into his arms, and kisses him fully for the first time]

===

[Fishing Hole - golden hour. Link is struggling to reel in a fish]

[Zelda's POV - Link turns, and drops his rod in excitement] "Zel! You made it!"

[full shot - Zelda is dressed in a plain, androgynous tunic and leggings, carrying a small picnic basket. Her hair is free and loosely pulled back, without a crown, without a mask.] "And you brought food!! You're the best person in the world."

"Man, I didn't realize I was starving" "You have to take better care of your own needs, Hero." "I don't have to, I've got you~"

"Here, you should have some too--"

"Oh crud - there's no more?" "I'm sorry. Supplies are still low--" ("No I'm the one who should be sorry!!")

"Well, here - I've got something for you too."

[Link pulls out a glass bottle, filled with strawberries. They're a deep, ripe red - the first splash of color in this black & white comic] "I picked them from the Lost Woods. They've just started growing back recently."

[He holds one up to her lips. A little tentatively, Zelda bites into it - and bursts into tears]

"Zel!? You okay?" "Y-Yes, I just..."

"It's been... a long time since I've had anything so sweet."

"You deserve it."

[Wide shot - she has a little emotional fit in his arms. Color is gradually seeping into the comic.]

[But eventually, the berries get finished.]

"Link - there's one more thing. I..."

[Zelda takes out the Ocarina of Time, and places it into his hands.]

"Zel, this..."

[She gives him a genuine smile, fond and peaceful.] "Keep it. I've made my decision."

[She touches her forehead to his, as they share a moment of joy] "It suits you better, anyway."

[Zelda pulls out her harp, and begins playing a tune.]

[Link raises the ocarina, and joins her in a duet.]

[The musical notes drift into the sky, intertwined over a lush, colorful world.]

[waltwhitmansbeard]

my fair lady: chapter twenty

i'm just gonna say it: you gotta read these first. @romeoandjulietyouwish, this is your legacy, i guess.

She dresses quickly and silently, not wanting to draw the attention of whichever guard is at her door tonight. She picks a simple, brown dress, something she wears when she helps tend the castle gardens, and layers over it a black cloak. With her hair rolled up and tucked under the hood, she's unrecognizable.

She opens the secret door that Vax has not traversed since their return to Zephrah, making sure it closes silently behind her, and, with a single candlestick in one hand, begins to descend into the catacombs. She has only been down here but once before, many months ago, but Vax has described the path a few times, so while it takes some investigation and backtracking, she manages to make her way to the steps that lead up into the store cupboard that Vax uses to start his journey. She pushes up on the trapdoor, knocking over the old bucket that sits atop it, which clangs to one side. She lowers the trapdoor again and freezes, listening for any movement above. After a full five minutes, she determines that no one is coming to check out the commotion, and she proceeds up into the store cupboard.

She snuffs out her flame and leaves it on a shelf before poking her head out into the corridor. At this time of night, nearly all of the kitchen staff is asleep, save for a few scullery maids doing the last of the day's cleaning. It is easy enough for her to slip past them and out onto the grounds. Despite having grown up relatively sheltered, Keyleth has some experience sneaking out of the castle, usually to go visit the sprawling cherry tree that she and her father planted atop a nearby hill to commemorate her mother's passing. It takes some doing, but she manages to slink her way along the outer wall and through a little door near the stables.

From there, it's about a ten minutes walk to the actual city of Zephrah, and then the hard part: finding the cottage. She's had it pointed it out to her once or twice, in one of her many trips into the city to work with healers during the war, but that was during the day, and now, under the light of a waning moon, she must put her memory to the test to navigate the dark streets and remain unseen at the same time.

She finds the place by the large banner hanging out front: a black field with the four interlocking triangles of gold, the symbol of the Royal Guard. Keyleth knows that they display this banner to let their neighbors know that they always have a safe place to come to should they need one. Keyleth scurries up the front door, keeping her hood low around her face, and knocks.

After about twenty seconds, the door swings open, revealing a quaint interior lit by a dying fire. "Good even—Keyleth?"

Vax's jaw hangs low as Keyleth sheepishly waves. "Good evening."

He grabs her arm and yanks her unceremoniously inside, slamming the door shut behind her. "Have you lost your mind?" he snaps, fixing the lock before prying open the curtain on the front window to check the street. "You shouldn't be here!"

Keyleth lowers her hood and stands in the middle of Vax and Vex's little cottage, which somehow looks exactly and nothing like she had imagined. "I needed to speak with you."

Seemingly assured that she was not followed, Vax wheels on her, a deep frown set on his face. "My shift begins in the morning, Your Highness," he says rather coldly.

Her nostrils flare. "I needed to speak with you now."

"And what could possibly be so important that you were willing to risk your life to come here to tell me?"

Keyleth was not expecting this hostility from him, and it's beginning to make her blood boil. She tosses a glance over her shoulder. "Where is your sister?"

"She is with Lord Percival." Keyleth can hear the thinly veiled jealousy in his voice. "Why?"

"Because I'm tired!" Keyleth exclaims with a humorless laugh. "I am tired of the running and the hiding and the pretending. I'm tired of going through the motions of my life as if I am not in the most acute agony I can imagine."

Vax takes a step back. "Key—Your Highness..."

"Please," she begs, "please, just—is this to be my life? Locked away in a castle, alone in that room, remembering the way your hands feel in my hair? The way your smile eases my racing heart? Am I to be condemned to misery and solitude because you have taken my heart with you wherever you go? Is that the price of the crown? Because if so, I don't want it! I refuse it!"

"Princess, please." Vax's voice breaks with desperation. "You were right, we have to be better—"

"Better than what? All of them?" She throws her hands out to gesture all around her, toward the Ashari citizens asleep in their homes. "All of these people who wake up and love each other and create families that they can be proud of? I'm not better than them! I envy them, and I am tired of the envy."

"I'm leaving," he says abruptly, his jaw clenched tight.

Keyleth freezes, tears streaming down her face. "What?" she breathes.

"As soon as I am able to request a moment of your father's time, I will be volunteering for the manhunt for Gaben Finefirn. I am exceptionally well-suited for the task and it will take me far from Zephrah."

"You mean far from me."

Finally, Vax's harsh exterior cracks. She sees it in his eyes, the flash of pain, the cut to the quick. What is she to say to this? She could beg him not to leave—she is very much not above falling to her knees in supplication—but if freedom is what he desires, then who could she be to deny him that?

Vax begins to pace, a tight, tense line between the fireplace and the opposite wall. Keyleth watches him in silence, a treed squirrel eying the pacing dog below. "Why did you come here?" he eventually grits out, coming to a stop near the hearth and running a stressed hand through his hair. "What...what did you hope to accomplish? Nothing has changed, Your Highness. You are still to be the sovereign of a nation, and I am a common guard."

"There is nothing common about you," she argues, her voice quiet. "There is nothing common about your devotion to this country, to the service of my family. There is nothing common about how keenly you know every thought in my head before I speak it aloud. There is nothing common about your skills or your talent or the way in which you wield them to make the world safer, kinder, gentler. There is nothing common about the way my breath catches every time you look at me, like for the briefest moment, time has stopped, and we are the only two left on this earth. You, Vax'ildan, are extraordinary, and if you truly believe that you are unworthy of me because of our difference in station, then I have failed as someone who loves you with all of her heart. I only hope that someday I can be worthy of your exquisite affections, of the love that you have graced me with these past months."

Vax stares at her, eyes wide and bright, the waning fire dancing in his irises. Countless emotions play across his face—bewilderment, confusion, hope, sorrow, heartbreak, joy, frustration—but his features settle on something soft, something fragile. She knows that whatever happens next, it has the potential to shatter them both, and despite the madness of the tension, she wishes this heartbeat of possibility could go on forever.

"Keyleth—" Her name has always sounded like a symphony on his tongue. "—I adore you in more ways than the cleverest poet could ever hope to describe. It has been easy for me to tell you, as many times as I have, that I would die for you, gladly, eagerly, because it is a truth that does not scare me. But what I have never allowed myself to say aloud is how desperately I want to live for you." Tears fall afresh from Keyleth's eyes as a small gasp escapes her. "I wish to spend every single one of the days that the gods see fit for me have left by your side, in awe of your splendor, in service of your great mission here among your people. I want to worship you like the zealot reveres his god and I want to hold you until the last bricks of civilization decay into dust. I want to risk everything, because you are everything."

"Then do it!" Keyleth strides up to him and takes both of his hands in hers. "We have been trying to protect each other from the world for far too long. I think it is time to give the world a chance to prove itself better than either of us believe it to be." She looks him in the eyes, takes a deep breath, and says, "Vax'ildan Vessar, will you marry me?"

[honking-up-a-storm]

6/29/23

Thursday, my usual slow day, but who knows, it could prove me wrong. The air is still sticky and hot, only the occasional breeze cuts though to give me some relief from the sensation of skin sticking to skin. I'm awaiting the rain to come again. I crave to hear the loud rolling rumbles of thunder and feel the heavy and hard downpour of rain like the storm from last night. I don't like being called miss. Not only does it feel improper since everyone who says it to me is older than me, but obviously I'm not a miss. Though tragically I still present as one to the public. I'll get it soon enough, then I won't have to feel like this anymore. Having regulars here feels odd, it's nice to know what to expect with people, but they're here because they're in pain. They shouldn't have to be here at least once a week. Old people shouldn't have to wait over an hour out here for transport. As much as I'm happy here I can't deny that underlying sadness of the place exists. Yesterday security told me someone tried to kill themselves, after I found out they were autistic my heart broke because I knew that no one around them was gonna do anything to make the situation better. Hell, the way security was talking about it pissed me the fuck off, each word running with an underlying laugh. They wanted him to run or flip out so they could deal with the situation violently. Thank God that didn't happen and they settled things without laying a hand on the guy, but I'm fucking furious about these power-tripping assholes. I mean christ this dude was trying to advertise the security job/being a cop as "badass" because you get to hurt people, how fucking nice /s. So fucking badass to just be constantly waiting for the moment to pounce. I like how I'm doing this to get an unfiltered continuous inner monologue but I'm not catching everything, like when I write there is a secondary flow of thought going in a completely different topic. It's very strange, oh look at that I'm close to the end of the book, yellow shirt, the clouds look so fluffy, shoes scuffing on the pavement, the AC unit is humming and crackling, automatic door closed, car comes up the hill, birds chirping, car turn, another car, a single strand of hair is bouncing in my face, the guy with the wheelchair on the back of the van is here, keys jingling, my arm is sore on the armrest, tan vest, more clouds, open door, here he comes, zipping down sidewalk, hear car, another red, blocked entrance, bed for assisting with wheelchairs, tink tink, I want this guy to move, I want to sit down, I want something to do, I need to do something other than just stand here, my hand cramps, why does my handwriting suck so much? Dark cloud, more breeze, rain please, rain on me, someone give me something to do, can't draw like this, this table sucks, use a bigger sketchbook for thesis, it doesn't have to be for thesis, darker sky, person, trunk slam, back from the phone, sea breeze, darker, where's the rain? I don't feel sticky anymore, why do my thoughts stop racing when I'm on my phone? Smells like summer, shuffle, $5 nice, thoughts slow with proper task, book, I wanna read my book, I wanna work on my OCs, Ilphlin, I need to bring her back I love her so much. Holy shit only 4 pages left in the book, I haven't even gotten the tutorial book in the mail yet lol, I should have switched to lined paper.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Ficlet: TGIF

Just a little thing to celebrate that it's Friday. At least I'm privileged enough to not have to work weekends (anymore), for which I am grateful. It's the little things, you know?

Frankie Morales x you

Warnings: Farting in bed, language, salty sexy talk. Be 18. You shouldn't even be on my blog unless you are a legal adult.

The sound of the alarm is the rudest of offenses when it cuts through your deep sleep and throws you into reality. You extend your arm and turn it off, then retreat your limb underneath the covers and curl up with a deep sigh.

You really don't wanna today. It may be Friday, but this week sucked you dry on Wednesday already. To face one more day before the weekend seems insurmountable. You know you have to, but you'd like to enjoy a few more moments of not having to think about it.

Frankie moves next to you. He rolls over from his back to his side, sighing deeply as he finds your form and fits himself snugly against it, arms sneaking around you as best they can. He murmurs something which could be interpreted as "good morning". You mumble the same in reply and grope for his hand, plaiting your fingers with his when you finally find it. He squeezes your hand before his fingers grow lax, and you slowly sink back into sleep.

You don't know how much time passes, minutes or an hour, but you're roused anew by Frankie's prickly kisses on your neck.

"Time to get up," he tells you, his deep voice thick with sleep.

You protest with a bratty whine, curling up even tighter.

"I know," Frankie soothes you, pulling your hand around you and up to his lips for a kiss. "But it's just one more day."

"Two day weekend, and then it starts all over again," you mutter, not placated by his kiss. You're suddenly overcome with the weight of time just rushing by, workday after workday turning into the brief respite of the weekend, before Monday swallows you whole again. Week in, week out. Then death.

"Hey," Frankie interrupts your train of dark thoughts as if he could see it as plainly as he sees you, "don't do that. Let's just take one day at a time, okay?"

You hum, grateful for him stopping your negative spiral, but it doesn't make you want to get out of bed any more than you wanted a minute ago. You know you have to, but it's so difficult.

Frankie has a solution to that, too. He snuggles up to you, getting really cozy, and just as you settle happily against him, he cuts loose a fart so strong that even though you're on the other side of him, you feel the wind of it.

"Frankie!"

He tries to Dutch oven you, but you're too fast, kicking the covers off and rolling on top of Frankie to keep him from reaching for them.

"That's so nasty!"

"I'd call it effective. You're no longer oversleeping, are you?" he smirks, drawing his hands up and placing them behind his head. He looks so smug you feel like slapping him.

"Asshole." There's no real heat in your bark, and he knows it.

"I can live with that."

"Now I know why they call you Catfish. Your farts smell like rotting fish."

Frankie chuckles and you you make a face at him, but you do enjoy sitting astride his soft belly like this.

"Is that your way of trying to make my day better?" you ask, a small frown on your forehead. Frankie's smirk changes slightly, becomes more... feral.

"No. I've got something else in mind for that."

You can't help smiling back, anticipation seeping into you.

"What?"

His big hands land on your knees and slowly stroke upward.

"My suggestion is: wear your special bra today, the one that makes your rack look fucking unreal. And the matching panties. Wear stockings, and that skirt you like so much. And every chance you get, send me a text telling me how fucking amazing you look."

He tilts his head a little when his hands reach your hips, and he pulls you down on him.

"Send me pictures. Make me go crazy for you, baby," he murmurs before kissing you, softly, almost chastely. "And when you get home tonight... I'm going to fucking wreck your shit. And you're gonna keep the bra and the stockings on."

He smiles, like he just dropped a casual comment about how nice the weather is.

"I might even just take you against the front door. Just push your panties to the side and fuck you where you stand."

"Who says I'm going to wear any panties?" you breathe, keeping your cool somehow despite your growing lady boner.

"Good girl," he praises you in a low voice. "Now you're catching on."

Without warning, he pushes you off of him and sits up.

"Okay, what do you want for breakfast?"

You catch a glimpse of his raging semi in his underwear as he gets up and goes to the bathroom. The throbbing between your legs isn't really helped by that, but at least you know that the day is going to be just as filled with suffering for him as it will be for you.

[hawksugarbaby]

Kirishima x reader- Magnum

Smut

Chapter includes: Temp play (cold), blow job, sex in a small Space, slight praise.

After an hour or so in the freezer you were sufficiently cooled down, the hot summers day had gone cold as the sun lowered and you had spent your time teasing kiri. You had also ran out of ice lollies. 

But it was time to get out of the freezer. Because you were surprisingly getting cold, there was only so much your quirk could do especially since you were keeping two people warm, it was more work with the air cooling down. "Can you help me back out?" You asked, flailing your arms over the side of the freezer, It was a little too tall. 

Kiri on the other hand wasn't paying attention. His mind had been wandering for far too long. Popsicles. How dare they make you look so enticing. He couldn't stop the thoughts plaguing his head, and he felt a little guilty thinking such lewd thoughts about you. 

He looked up for a moment, he hadn't realised you were trying to get out the freezer until now when you were in a rather compromising position. You were bent over the side of the freezer your arms dangling and you continued to try to hop over the side. "W-what are you doing?" His face burned red and hot, images getting more vivid the longer he stared. "Trying to get out of this freezer, its getting kinda cold"

Suddenly his confidence grew 3x what it was, he stood up and you sighed thankfully expecting him to help you out. Instead he grabbed your hips pulling you back into the freezer and sat down again "I could warm you up?" He whispered lowly into your ear sending shivers down your spine that you knew weren't from the cold.

"H-how do you plan on that?" Despite your best efforts of sounding alluring it came out a mess. You chewed on your lip, your ragged breaths coming out foggy and your heart hammered in your chest. He shifted you so you were straddling his lap and your face erupted in flames feeling the hard tent in his jeans. How hadn't you noticed that before? It should have been VERY obvious.

He hadn't spoke, he kept his lips clamped shut he tilted your chin up, Your (e/c) eyes met his, the black pupils swallowed the crimson making him look more shark like than ever. He leaned in meeting your soft, warm lips with his icy cold ones. He swiped his tongue (which was even cooler) over your bottom lip asking for entrance and as if under some spell you granted.

Why were his lips so cold? 

You shivered and he pulled away with a grin holding an ice cube between his pointy teeth, it was melting fast and you looked away "where did you even get that? How did I not notice you put that in your mouth?" He shifted, and a bag of ice cubes was propping him up, you had thought the freezer was empty, guess you were wrong but how was he not absolutely frozen. 

Your thoughts didn't seem to matter since he shrugged and pulled you forward locking your lips again, the icy cold cube melting against your tongue, trickling down your throat. You moaned into the kiss as he pulled you deeper under his spell, your hair stood on end, and you had goosebumps all up your arms. He pulled away from your lips and traced kisses down your jaw leaving drops of biting cold water off of his lips on their place. 

"K-kiri what are you doing" you shuddered, his lips travelled further down your neck the ice cube starting to melt rapidly the closer it got to your chest where your fire was stored. It was a strange sensation, the freezing cold felt… good? It was different, very different, but it wasn't at all bad. "Your enjoying this a lot more than i thought you would" he murmured against your neck, he was right about that much You didn't expect this reaction in the slightest!

His shark teeth nibbled along your neck down to your collar bone, occasionally they would accidentally pierce your skin and a pearl of blood would stain the vest he had given you. Hot purple marks littered up your throat and neck, down your shoulders across your chest, competing with the cold kiri was dragging across yor skin. 

"Slow down kiri, i can't be the only one getting attenton" you giggled, so innocent sounding for such a sinful situation. You grinded against him making him groan, the obvious tent in his shorts getting more obvious "is that your quirk at play or are you just happy to see me?" You teased, he rolled his eyes as if he's heard that joke a hundred times before and looks down at you. There's no innocence left in his eyes, they burn with desire and lust while he watches you unbuckle his leather belt and unbutton his constraints.

"No underwear huh? And in shorts too? How brave" you tease when his cock springs out of his shorts, laying flat against his stomach. Your only thoughts are 'Big… Very Big!' Almost on instinct you reach out and wrap your hand around the base of his shaft making him moan out, "i haven't even done anything yet!" You shout, both your faces are bright red and hot, the tips of your ears are burning like someone was holding a lighter to them. Kiri's eyes were squeezed shut as tight as possible, his fists were balled and the bag of ice crunched every time he moved. 

You moved your hand up and down slowly, watching his reddening face intensely. It looked like you were doing everything right, it definitely sounded like you were doing everything right from the tiny grunts escaping his mouth. You picked up your pace drawing a long moan from his throat, and you chuckled "Y-(y/n)" he groaned. Your name sounded so salacious coming from him right now, you weren't sure you could ever fill in another form without hearing kiri in the back of your mind and you wanted desperately to hear more like that. 

You would ignore the heat bubbling in your stomach, your thighs rubbing together for friction, and your now soaked underwear until you could satisfy kiri. You stopped your hand movements eliciting an annoyed growl and you shuffled forward again and sat on your calfs between his thighs. "Kneel" you instructed and he did as he was told. "Y-you don't have to if you don't want to (y/n), we can stop any time just say the word and its done" he said. You grinned contemplating how in the space of an afternoon you went from friends stuck in a freezer to, in a relationship while fucking in the freezer, either way you were glad to have someone so caring now. 

"I know" you grinned. You reached behind him and grabbed an ice cube popping it in your mouth and in an instant it was just cold water sitting on your tongue "just like a popsicle right?" You laughed nervously while kiri laughed genuinely. How in the hell did he find that remotely funny. 

You scooted closer wrapping your hand around the base and wrapped your lips around the head. he let out a high pitched moan, one you would never expect from him and you looked up at him through your eyelashes. His nails were scratching at the silver 'walls' of the freezer and his eyes rolled back the red on his cheeks, impossibility dark and his mouth hung open. "C-cold" he said barely above a whisper. 

You bobbed your head up and down using your hand to get what you couldn't fit. Nothing like a popsicle. “Holy shit” he whispered and without thinking gripped your hair pushing you further down his cock without thinking, making you choke and gag. Your waterline filled with tears a few running down your face leaving red trails “s-sorry” he grunted, you hummed accepting his apology the vibrations driving him crazy. 

You drew your head back watching his face for miniscule reactions, his nose twitching, his lip quivering, his hands tugging your hair and knotting it. You hollow your cheeks as you went taking as much as possible in his mouth when his member twitched, you looked up through your eyelashes "it hasn't even been that long" you said, though it was muffled but he could clearly hear what you were saying "shouldn't you be glad, your the one doing it" he rubbed his hands over the purple map of where he'd been and trailed his hands down squeezing your breast and rolling his thumb over your hard nipple. You couldn't argue with his logic so you used your mouth for other purposes setting out an unrelenting pace. He grunted and whispered curses and praises that bounced around the freezer then into your ears. 

"S-shit (y/n) i'm gonna c-cum" he said, his tone sounded almost embarrassed making you chuckle. You pushed your head forward. You were all the way down when he twitched again, this time cumming into your mouth almost making you choke. You pulled off swallowing what you hadn't and looked up at him with half-lidded eyes and swollen pink lips. you were both panting heavily and suddenly you were being pushed down against the floor of the freezer with your knees bent so you could fit. 

”aw getting impatient are you” you teased, he growled and pushed another ice cube in your mouth, his substitute for a gag even though it would melt in no time but you took it as a sign to shut up. He pulled his wallet from his pocket and fumbled through pulling out a condom and ripping it open with his teeth then rolled it on. 

”you want to do this right?” he asked, the harsh intensity behind his eyes replaced by softness and his hand rested gently on your cheek where you nuzzled into it ”yes. I want this” you assured him. 

Kiri had never cared for foreplay, it was the part he always skipped when watching porn, if he for some reason was reading fanfiction he would skim over it and go to the good stuff, and now in this situation, you were both far too desperate for him to even think about it. He knew you weren't a virgin, everyone knew you weren't, you wore it like a victory badge (some people do. Don't judge) and though he was upset it wasn't him he could never judge you. but God was he about to make you forget anyone else was your first, he would make you feel so good you would never say their name again.

He sucked on your neck adding to the gallery of hickeys trailing his hands down your stomach and pulling your shorts off. "You ready?" He asked and you nodded pointing to the bag of ice cubes. The cold made your heart race and the more you had the slower they melted. He raised his eyebrows, he hadn't expected you to like the ice as much as you had and he was really enjoying it. 

He dragged the bag over propping it up in the corner and put an ice cube in his mouth, you glared about to get one yourself but the firm "no" from him was enough to make you retract your hand and pray. His icy cold hands held your hips in place and he leaned down kissing you again with his freezing lips drawing a moan from you. "You make such pretty noises (y/n), you should do it more often" he mumbled biting your bottom lip gently. 

You whined desperately and he smirked "okay okay" he lined up with your entrance and pushed in. Your eyes rolled back and you bit back a moan. "Holy fuck" kiri grunted staying in one place "are you okay?" He asked. You nodded rapidly and reached up gripping his shoulder hard. He pulled out and slammed his hips back into you "A-AH KIRI!" You cried digging your nails into his shoulder "you're so gorgeous" he gushed. What a moment to be all sappy. 

He thrust at a relentless pace drawing a moan from you with every movement, You were convinced If you put this on pornhub you would make bank. "Kiri please" you whimpered stretching your arm to the bag of ice that was centimetres out of reach "fine, since you've been so good" he praised and pressed an ice cube against your tongue while his other hand trailed another down your stomach where it melted and dripped off your sides pooling around you. 

"Kiri god im so close please" you begged bucking your hips to meet his. Every time you said his name he went a little more feral and you had officially broke him. He pounded into you at inhuman speed gripping your hips so hard they would definitely bruise and the heat pooling in your stomach reached boiling point. "KIRI!" You screamed arching your back as your orgasm washed over you. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream while he thrusted a few more times until he came too. 

You huffed propping yourself up on your elbows and he pulled out. "That was incredible" you panted. You were a shivering mess, your quirk no longer able to heat you up but there was no way you were walking for hours. "Fuck yeah it was" he grinned switching immediately back to his cheery self "sorry i went to hard didn't I" he kissed the top of your head helping you put your shorts back on which was a very hard task for such a cramped space. "No it was amazing" you grinned trying to pick yourself up but to no avail. "Im really tired now though" you giggled. He nodded picking you up like a gentleman and climbed out of the freezer with ease. 

He carried you to your room and swaddled you in blankets to get the heat flowing through you again and snuggled next to you. "Is it to early to say I love you?" He asked "depends, how long have you loved me For?" "Since first year" he admit "then i'd say no" you nuzzled into him feeling your eyes get heavy and fighting to keep them open "then i love you" he wrapped his arms around you protectively even though there was nothing to protect you from "i love you too eijiro." 

And into a peaceful sleep you sank yet your dreams were far from it

[mamawasatesttube]

ooo prompt time!! maybe “if we’re going down, i’m going with you.” or “if you insult them, you insult me.” with timkon?

"This doesn't look great," Kon observes.

Tim lowers his binoculars. The flotilla of invading spacecraft in the valley below are primed to attack the alien village on the other side of the hills within the hour, and help from offworld won't get here until dawn. Which is significantly more than an hour away. The village hardly has anything to call "defenses", and no troops to speak of other than farmers and their kids, untrained and armed with pitchforks.

"Yeah, not great," Tim agrees. It's a pretty apt summary of the situation. Fucking Slag conquerors. "I get the feeling they aren't gonna be interested in baseball this time, either."

Kon snorts. But the levity in his face is belied by the tension running through his body; his shoulders are tight, his jaw squared as he stares down the gentle slope from their hidden observation deck down to the ships. He looks remarkably like Clark when he's serious, when his eyes turn stormy and protective.

Then he turns his gaze to Tim, and an invisible touch ghosts over Tim's lower lip. Tim belatedly realizes he's been biting it so hard he's very close to drawing blood.

"Don't do that," Kon murmurs. The stormy look hasn't diminished, but it's warmer, when he looks at Tim.

"Right." Tim is hard-pressed, just for the most fleeting of moments, not to reach for him; he yearns, for an instant, but he doesn't, because there's work to be done. Like the alien death trap at the bottom of the hill. "Well. I might be able to disrupt their local lcommunications array, if I can just get my hands on one of their computers. That might buy us some time."

Kon nods. "And I can definitely wreck some shit to distract them while you do that."

A brief pause, as they survey the Slag ships. They've got heavy enough artillery that even with Kon's formidable powers, the odds are looking very... not great. A little flutter of anxiety thrums through Tim's stomach, not at the idea of dying here himself (though he doesn't love that either), but at the idea of losing Kon. If he takes it on himself to go out in a blaze of glory and hellfire, just to save one little farming village on a planet far from their own...

As if reading his mind, Kon clears his throat. "Look, Rob... I can just go in and break a lot of shit solo. That'll still probably buy enough time. You don't have to go in on such a risky one with me. I can drop you back at—"

Tim whaps him on the head. "Stop that. You know I'm not hiding and letting you go in alone."

Kon shrugs, a slight, rueful smile playing about his lips. "Hey, worth a shot. Since we're about to get shot at. A lot."

Rolling his eyes, Tim folds his binoculars and clips them back to his belt, then reaches over and takes Kon's hand. "Yeah, well, if you're going down, I'm going with you."

This time, Kon snorts. "And sugar, we're goin' down swingin'," he sings, squeezing Tim's hand.

Tim surprises himself by laughing. Honestly, it shouldn't be a surprise; Kon always makes him laugh, even when he least expects it. "I'll be your number one with a bullet," he sings back. "A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it."

As one, they turn to look back down at the flotilla below. The Slag ships sit ominously on the dark valley floor, a blot of light where none should be.

They better survive this, Tim thinks. It'd be really stupid to die now to a squadron of the same alien conquerors who they beat at baseball years ago.

"You know, I always thought that line was 'a load of god complex'," Kon admits, stroking his chin with his free hand. "Like, the whole thing was a dick joke and a gun thing, and also saying, like, hey, get a load of this guy and his god complex!"

Tim snorts again, unable to stop himself from grinning despite the gravity of it all. "Only you, Kon."

"Fall Out Boy is unintelligible!" Kon defends. His thumb strokes along the base of Tim's, rubbing a circle through his gauntlet, and Tim glances up at him briefly to see him smiling again, though the set of his jaw is no less resolute.

Tim loves him.

"You ready for this, clone boy?" he asks.

"With you at my back?" Kon returns. "Always."

[thunderheadfred]

🤚The Second Worst (Pt. 1/?)🤚

Part 2 of my Shigaraki Thesis Headcanons. HC's // The Second Worst: 1 - 2

The half-mad ghost of Shimura Tenko is in love with you, and your life is about to become a tragic wreck. -- AKA here's when I gave up on bullet points and went off the fuckin rails

I'm self-conscious about writing so much, so uhhhh, please be kind, hahaaa. This is rather long and involved. Are these still even HCs or just a self-indulgent AU outline? There are some mysteries we may never solve.

This is on AO3 now, if you prefer reading there. Anyway. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

You met Tenko before the League existed.

Believe it or not, there are a million ways it might have happened, but in the end: you were both bargain-binning in Akihabara.

You reached for a copy of a collectible bullet-hell cute-'em-up (near-mint! CIB!!!) and accidentally bonked hands with a complete stranger. He flinched about five million feet away from you. Ouch. You're just a nobody, quirkless and average, but you didn't think you were THAT repulsive.

(You're not. Hell, even if you were, this guy couldn't care less. He barely registers that you have a face.)

(Shigaraki is accustomed to getting in and out of this shop in seconds. He always comes in before anyone else and goes straight home. -- Is that really home? Is 'home' a real place? -- ANYWAY he's already pirated this shit, god, why does he even care? He doesn't need to be here. Father doesn't like it. Is that why he's here? Just to do something Father doesn't like? That's pathetic.)

He's had at least ten complete internal arguments with himself before he so much as looks at you.

You know in the tenth of a second he actually meets your eyes... this fucker is going to fight you to the death over this game.

- - - The death match ends in a draw. He was not expecting you to know the first fucking thing about this game. Nobody knows about it, even in Japan. Who the fuck do you even think you are? Oh, no, he's still taking it. But... maybe he can show you how to play it it. He'll give you a little taste, just to make you jealous. He's got his hoodie pulled down like he's going to commit an act of terrorism. What little you can see of his face looks twitchy and messed up. If you have any survival instincts at all, they're kicking in right about now. But... why not. You're not going anywhere with this dude unsupervised, so you suggest a crowded web cafe down the street. The cafe has the necessary console... but the retro gaming booth is laughably small. The TV is about four inches across and you end up having to practically sit in his lap. You were sure this guy was a nasty fucking creep, but he's................ only mostly terrible. Way too angry, for sure. Has no idea how to have a normal, friendly conversation. Inadvertently insults you every other sentence and seems to have a deep-seated persecution complex.

You'd prefer to be mad about the awful company, but... he's obviously deprived of human contact. When it's established that you two share a lot of media fixations, he calms down and starts treating you a little more like a human being. Or at least like a fellow elite.

Wherever he came from, he doesn't seem to want to go back. He keeps pushing you to play one more level, pretending he wants to beat your score. You feel kinda bad for him. You get the distinct feeling that his life is a disaster. He looks like he's never had a full night of sleep in his life. He trips your trigger hairs in that 'is he gonna follow me home?' kind of way, but... up close, he's a lot more depressing than scary. At the very least, you want to buy him a stupidly cute dessert. Just... as thanks. For letting you try out the game and stuff. It's not a big deal, so just pick a flavor, okay? The world isn't actually that awful, y'know.

It's not even that impressive... Definitely not a great cafe. But he takes practically a full hour to eat a single slice of strawberry cake.

When the hoodie comes down. He's all shriveled and dried out, like someone left him him in the desert to die. He chews on his peeling bottom lip and nervously scratches his neck. He doesn't thank you for the cake. Which is fine. It's not a big deal. Actually, you wish he would eat faster; you feel weirdly responsible for him now.

Under all that mess he's... gorgeous? His hair is stunning: a bright, gleaming silver that catches the light. His bone structure is flawless. If it weren't for all the scars and the misanthropic slouch, he'd look like a fairy fucking prince.

You were not prepared for that. In another life he could have been a model, the type of guy who would never even look at you. But something bad happened to him. Something... very bad. Do you even want to know? You have no idea how to ask. Has anyone ever been nice to him? It doesn't seem like it. Should YOU be nice to him? You sort of want to try. - - - This becomes a regular thing. This weird little secret. You should probably tell someone when you see him, just in case you don't come back one day, but you say nothing; how the hell would you explain why you want to see him so bad? You don't know his full name. Maybe he's on a watch list. When he gives you a long string of random numbers so you can schedule meet-ups (is THAT his e-mail, really?) he tells you to just... call him Tenko. Or whatever. It doesn't matter. (He sneaks out when Father is deep in his plots. As long as he comes home on time, it doesn't really matter where he goes, right?) He brings a different game every time. He has an insane collection. Where does he get the money for all this? You know he doesn't work. God, is it drugs? It's probably drugs. Wherever these hidden gems came from, he proudly shows them off to you, like he's never had an audience before. It's sort of cringe-inducing, the way he one-ups and rubs every little victory in your face, desperate for attention.

But at the same time, you are becoming too... something...to mind. Do you... like him? He's not funny, but he thinks you are. His mouth is huge when he laughs. He seems to hate everyone but you, and you've had to earn the distinction of being merely tolerable. Still, he gets really excited about random shit like the garage kit black market and haunted dolls and the price of weed on the dark web.

And... strawberry cake. The realization hits you both at the same time when the waitress brings one piece with two forks. God, what the fuck, are you... are you dating? Quick, think. You look forward to seeing him, and don't even mind sitting close to him anymore. Sometimes you push your leg up against him just to see if he'll still flinch away... and he doesn't.

You jealously notice the way he touches everything but you: with delicate precision, one finger at a time. His large, elegant hands always have a pinky up like he's aspiring for a fiefdom, and you wonder what his skin feels like. You go home and dwell on the way he plucks flowering weeds out of the pavement in front of the cafe. The way he stands rooted to the spot as you leave, just... looking at nothing, unsmiling.

You watch his lips too much, and not just because you want to buy him chapstick. You catch him gaping at you all the time. You thought he was just creepy like that, but maybe... Yeah. I guess you are dating him. Shit. - - - Okay, so, yeah. Bringing him back to your place was definitely a bad idea. You know you shouldn't trust him, even if he is... apparently... your boyfriend? Sort of? You still don't have his phone number. So. Um. What now? You order overpriced pizza and queue up a campy horror movie. What the fuck are you even doing. You don't really think he's going to murder you anymore, but... still. Is the suburban massacre scene gonna give him ideas? Turns out, no. He doesn't like gore, even when the blood is neon pink. He gets upset. Like, really upset. Shaky and green, like he might puke on you. He can't stop scratching that scaly spot on his neck.

Tenko, are you crying? Fucking hell, did you just trigger him? Of course he has a traumatic past, it's carved all over his face. You're so fucking stupid. You don't know how to make it right. You want to hug him, kiss him... anything. But he's never really touched you, and you're too afraid to push now. It ruins the whole night. He leaves without explaining anything. Doesn't even say goodbye. He just. Leaves. Maybe you'll never see him again. Maybe that's for the best. Your chest hurts. - - - He shows up at your door a few weeks later. You haven't heard from him since that disastrous movie night. You had pretty much accepted that you'd broken up with a boyfriend you never actually had. But no. Apparently not.

This time, he’s brought his own entertainment. He's holding a boxed set of some show you're not familiar with. You're distracted by these weird little half-gloves he's wearing, like a cyberpunk hacker. That's a new look, and even if it's a bit edgelord adjacent, he makes it look cool. You tell him as much. It's the first time you've let on how attractive you find him. He's wearing a tight black shirt with a deep, deep V-neck. That's distracting too.

He clears his slender throat and doesn't look at you.

You try to apologize for before, but he's acting like it never happened. What are you even talking about? Have you seen this OVA or not? Get out of the way and let him in already. You've watched three episodes now, but you still have no idea what this stupid anime is about. You can't pay attention to a single frame. All you can think about is how his arm has crept up behind your shoulders. A few inches more and he'll be holding you. Does he... want to hold you? You lean toward him so slowly your spine creaks. One molecule at a time. After a thousand years, your head slides nervously under his chin. His arm comes down, locking you in, fingers clutching your sleeve in a death grip. Even that snobby little pinky. His head tucks down into you hair. A sharp collarbone bites into your cheek. His heartbeat is hard, fast, and irregular. There's not a scrap of fat on him, and as you wrap your arm around his stomach, you think you see a twitch in his pants. Is that just you being desperate? Or... hopeful? This is really happening. --- Soon, you learn that Tenko is a clumsy kisser. It doesn't matter; the fact that he's kissing you at all is good enough for now. His lips are dry, but not half as dry as you expected. There's a slick of menthol helping things along; he's been using something medicated on his lips. Plus, his mouth tastes like he drank a gallon of mouthwash.

All this thrills you more than a little, because it means he came here wanting to impress you. Wanting you. Full stop. Underneath that minty sting is a strange, worrisome aftertaste, like something rotten. Your brain fires off an alarm. Stop kissing him. Right now. This thing will make you sick. But his hands nervously slide over your body... and you decide not to worry about it. Instead, you kiss him deeper. He makes a sweet, startled little noise. Your brain is a fucking liar. It occurs to you he's probably never done this before.

When you lace your fingers in his and try to pull one of his gloves off, he rips his hand away.

Don't. That’s the only explanation he gives.

No need to ask if it's a quirk thing or a trauma thing. Judging by how jittery he gets, it's probably both. You remember the way his hands almost float over objects without ever holding them. Maybe his touch is dangerous. Maybe that's why his face looks like that.

Maybe you should learn more about him before things go way too far...

No. It can't be that bad. Now that he's in your arms, everything frightening about him evaporates. He's vulnerable. He's alone. He's shaking a little. Has anyone else ever seen this side of him? You want to keep him all to yourself, just like this.

So what if he has to touch you with gloves on? You've heard of worse quirk-related inconveniences.

It's okay, Tenko. Do you want to keep going?

You put his hands back on you and wait for him to kiss you again. It doesn't take long.

---

You open his pants. He's long and thin, calloused even here. Every part of him feels untouched, unloved. You hold him tight and squeeze.

It doesn't seem to occur to him to please you in return. He looks afraid. Confused. You're sure you scared him earlier with the glove thing. Is this too much? No. He gasps and leans into you. The tiniest, broken please.

He cums in your hand right away, face buried in your shoulder, his eyes wet and hidden.

I have to go, he says. Over and over and over.

It's okay, Tenko.

You know he doesn't want to.

- - - - - (oops I wrote more)

[corrupt-fvcker]

Annoying (Boba Fett x fem!Reader)

Annoying ( Boba Fett x fem!Reader )

Warnings: fluff, hurt with sorta comfort, mentions of blood, one (1) mention of an erection, naughty words

Word Count: 3.1K

Author’s Note: boba may be a grumpy boyfriend, but he’s pretty decent. reminder that requests are open and if you want to be added to my tag list the link is in my bio :)

Boba’s annoying.

Like, really annoying. 

He’s always telling you what to do and when to do it, like he’s the boss of you or something. 

Well, technically he did hire you as an onboard mechanic for the Slave I.

But that’s hardly the point.

Because after you reluctantly complete whatever (typically ridiculous) request he’s ordered you to do, he doesn’t show you ever a sliver of gratitude. 

He’s constantly teasing you

Probably smirking smugly beneath his bucket whenever you avoid his gaze after a particularly cheeky comment.

You swear that he's going to be the death of you if he doesn't shut the fuck up.

And he's an idiot, you're confident in this even though he always seems to be two steps ahead of you.

"If I'm an idiot, then what does that make you?"

The bitch that's about to roundhouse your ass.

"...shut up."

Boba's also big and green

Like a giant booger you decided.

Because calling him a Hutt would've been a direct insult to Jabba and all who hailed from Nal Hutta.

He's also stubborn.

Which you suppose is a good thing when it comes to his line of work. 

But after the quarry's been captured and it's just you and him, you're usually about two minutes away from stranding him on the nearest inhabitable planet.

Boba — the annoying, stubborn, big, green idiot that somehow managed to get his grimy gloved fingers wrapped around your heart with a durasteel strength grip.

And despite his imperfections, you know he cares. He cares a whole lot, actually.

Which is why you're approaching the hour mark of being stranded in the middle of a giant forest. 

The stars of the Corellia system moved across the night sky as you wait for your annoying, stubborn, big, green idiot of a boyfriend to find you.

It had started off as a joke. 

Not a particularly good joke, but your goal wasn't to make him laugh.

Your goal was to get under his skin.

So you, being the natural-born genius that you are, decide to laugh when Boba oh-so-casually brings up that he is the best bounty hunter in the field.

 And you should've dropped it when his helmet ticked to the side and he asked you what was so kriffing funny.

But you — the apparent brains of the operation — don't catch the hint and keep going.

"I mean, I think I could outrun you," you admit nonchalantly, not bothering to look up at him as you absentmindedly pick at a loose thread of your tunic. "Not to mention outsmart you."

You smirk because if Boba is anything but your annoying, stubborn, big, green, idiot boyfriend... he's egotistical.

Boba scoffs, a mixture of amusement and offense lacing his tone. "Yeah? That's what you think?"

You offer him a half-hearted nod, feigning indifference to the whole idea.

He doesn't say anything else after that, nor do either of you bring it up again.

You suspect that maybe he figured that you were just trying to get under his skin, but you didn't think that you could've bruised his ego so easily and truly gotten away with it.

But then all hell breaks loose and the joke that you had started morphed into a much more genuine issue.

An official bounty had been placed on your head, and the reward was quite charitable.

So now, you were hiding out in the middle of some random forest on Corellia as Boba hunts you down to put your survival skills to test. 

Your goal is simple, make it back to the Slave I before Boba hunts you down and catches you.

And you had originally thought that it had been a good idea. If Boba, the best bounty hunter there is, can't catch you then hypothetically you shouldn't have to worry about other bounty hunters coming after you.

But you quickly came to regret your decision because now you're lost out in the middle of the forest, hugging some random tree.

You tried not to wander too far from the ship, knowing that you’d have to eventually find your way back. 

But you also couldn’t stay too close, it’d be much easier for Boba to find you if you were in the first tree he sees.

You had no definitive way of knowing how much time had passed. 

Even though Boba had told you when you landed, you had already forgotten how long a Corellian day was. 

Logically, you knew that you couldn't have been waiting for more than an hour. 

Though when your natural restlessness mixed with how uncomfortable your hiding spot was, you were convinced that you had been stuck in place for at least several hours.

You had settled yourself up in the branches of a towering tree. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, the bark digging into the soft flesh of your back, but it was endurable. 

If you could hide, you could live.

It’s dark, You could barely see the forest floor from your hiding spot. 

You weren't far from the ground, maybe a good twenty feet up.

Though you doubted that you’d be able to see Boba if he strolled past your tree.

He had the advantage, of course. Night vision ‘n all his fancy gadgets.

To make matters worse, it’s freezing.

 You were itching to get the hell out of the forest and cuddle up on your cot. 

But there was a tiny problem. 

Boba was coming from the direction of the Slave I. 

Which meant that with your luck, there was a very good chance that you’d run directly into him as you’re trying to get back to the ship. 

You needed to get Boba off your trail first, get him lost in the jungle. 

By the second hour of hiding in the ominous forest, you hear rustling leaves in the distance.

He’s close.

Thankfully, he’s not moving directly towards you.

But you can hear him drawing closer and closer, and you’re about to make a run for it and hope for the best. 

And even though you know he’s not going to to hurt you, you’re still terrified. 

You hear a twig snap just a few yards from your tree, you flinch. 

And then he went silent. 

And for a split second, your mind lets you think that he missed you. 

But then, just a short distance away, you see it.

The subtle glow of a tracking fob.

He was waiting for something -- standing there, eyes searching for your figure in the darkness.

And then, he turns away, hesitating. Considering his options.

He moves a few paces east, thankfully away from your route back to the ship.

You wait until you can’t hear his footsteps, and begin to move. Quietly, making sure your movements did not betray you.

But that was your first mistake. 

Not noticing that it was a trap. 

You didn’t realize it until it was too late. 

He’s racing after you now, heavy footsteps thudding against the forest floor. 

And for someone weighed down by so much armor, he’s fast.

You’re sprinting.

Entire body burning as you make your way through the thick trees.

The world’s a blur as you run, your feet barely touching the ground as you speed through the forest.

He’s on your trail, hot and quick. 

You just prayed that you had a good enough lead, maybe you could outrun him. 

And just as the Slave I is in view you realize something. 

You realize that you’re wrong. 

Two strong arms plated with thick duraplast hook around your waist and yank you off your feet. 

Air is ripped from your lungs as soon as the slope of your back slams against the armor covering the firm muscles of his chest. 

And desperately, you suck sharply for the oxygen that was just knocked from your body but as soon as you manage to breath in, you are robbed once again as the two of you topple to the ground.

You hit the ground hard. 

Your head snapping back as soon as your bodies hit the dirt and the only thing keeping your skull from splitting open against the forest floor is the way Boba tugs you against his chest. 

“Fuck!” You grit through your teeth, not sure if it’s the pain of the fall or the disappointment of losing that’s bruised you more. 

You don’t stop struggling, continuing to fight him as he wrestles you to the ground. 

You’re panting, kicking, grunting, punching, swearing—

Boba... hasn’t broken a sweat. 

He’s leaning over your and has got one of your arms craned behind your back, your face pushing into the dirt as you actively chose to ignore what seems to be a hard-on pressed into your lower back. Instead of dealing with his problem, you use what little strength you have left to swing your limbs at him. 

THWACK!

You’re free hand collides with the dome of his helmet, and it nearly throws him off his game. You smirk— then you seethe in pain. 

The skin of your knuckles cracks open upon impact of the duraplast, successfully hurting you more than it managed to inconvenience Boba.

“You kriffing—”

Your words catch in your throat as he suddenly flips you over, forcing you to face his stupid helmet. 

He plops down on you, effectively pushing all the air from your lungs for the third time of the night. 

He’s sitting on your stomach, gloved hands grasping your wrists as his legs pin down your own. 

“Gonna need to put up more than a fight than that,” Boba growls through his modulator, easily restraining your struggling limbs. 

"Fuck you.”

You might actually hate him. 

No, you don’t. 

“C’mon,” he croons mockingly, leaning forward just a bit so that his helmet hovers over your face. “Thought you said you could outrun me. Outsmart me? You got to have more fire in you than that, baby.”

Then you do something incredibly stupid. 

Because — who are you kidding? — you’re not the brains of the operation.

You’re the stubborn one between the two of you (which is saying something), and Boba always knows which buttons to push. 

You jerk upward, momentarily slipping your wrists away from his grip that loosened from surprise.

Your head slams into the front of his helmet, your forehead splitting open on collision. 

But your pride outweighs your pain as you watch your boyfriend’s head snap back slightly with a strained grunt, effectively freeing your arms from his grasp. 

With all the force you can muster, you shove him off of you before he can quickly recover and then you’re running. 

Sprinting to the ship even faster than before, despite the heavy blood flow that is now running its course down the side of your face.

As soon as the soles of your boots make contact with the durasteel ramp, you collapse. 

Toppling down to your knees in the safe zone because you’re so kriffing tired yet so relieved that you won. 

The sound of Boba’s footsteps are right by your head as you carelessly sprawl out on the ramp.

“Fuck,” Boba snarls, suddenly invading your little safe zone. 

 You smirk because you know he’s pissed about losing to you. 

“What the hell did you do to yourself?” Boba snaps, his gloved hands seizing each side of your face to make you look at his visor. 

You’re bleeding. 

Like a lot. 

And you almost don’t have enough energy in you to brag. 

“I won, old man,” you sigh dreamily, batting eyelashes as you blink away the dots spotting your vision. 

Boba doesn’t even comment on the fact that you’re only a few years younger than him. 

“Maker help me, you better not have a concussion,” Boba grumbles with an unamused grimace that’s concealed by his bucket, hauling you up from the ramp despite your protests and carrying you into the hull.

He’s completely silent as he cleans your trophy -- a small cut just below your brow that bled way too fucking much for its size. He sprays some bacta on it and covers it with a bandage, only speaking once all the supplies is put away. 

“You need to take this,” Boba argues, his blood-stained gloves now discarded as he holds a few painkillers in his palm. 

You shake your head. “It’s not serious. You’re gonna need those sooner or later.”

“You have a head laceration, it’s not gonna be long before you get a migraine,” Boba retorts, forcing your clenched fist open so that he can put the pills in your palm.

“No.”

Fuck, you’re stubborn. 

His heavy sigh echos through his vocoder. “I don’t want to hear about how bad your head hurts in an hour.”

“You won’t,” you promise. 

Though what’s he gonna do about it if you do? Lose another bet?

It doesn’t even take an hour for your head to start pounding in retaliation of your stupidity. Though you bite your tongue as you sit in the co-pilot’s seat, not wanting to get the “I Told You So” speech yet again.

You’ve been in hyperspace for about twenty minute, sitting with your legs criss-cross in the seat, your eyes closed and your head tilted back. 

You hope you just fall asleep unintentionally so that you don’t have to get up again. 

Every time you stand you think that your skull is going to burst from the incessant thrumming of your brain. 

Thankfully it’s mainly dark in the cockpit, the only light coming from the buttons and stars. 

“You don’t look so good,” Boba eventually mutters, a hint of something laced in his tongue.

“Gee, thanks,” you reply groggily, pinching the bridge of your nose as your brows furrow. 

Just let me fucking sleep in peace.

“How’s your head?” You were too tired to figure out if it’s concern or smugness in his voice. 

Probably both. 

Definitely both. 

“Do you have to talk so loud?” You complain lamely, opening your eyes to shoot a miserable glare in your boyfriend’s direction. 

He snorts, shaking his head in spite of you before motioning you over with two fingers. His voice is low when he speaks. 

“C’mere.”

You stare at him for a moment but the light is reflecting painfully off the dome of his helmet and you think that your brain is fucking bleeding. 

“Don’t want to,” you reply, trying to play it off as disinterest rather than the inability to walk the three paces to sit in his lap. 

When he doesn’t immediately react, you avert your gaze to stars and thank the Maker that you can finally close your eyes and have some peace —

A scoff crackles through his modulator, and you don’t open your eyes to glance in his direction as he stands from the pilot’s seat and moves.

Space is silent and his heavy footsteps ring throughout the cockpit and send vibrations through every bone in your body. 

He inserts himself between your slightly parted legs and hovers there for a moment, you can feel his gaze searing into your flesh despite your lack of vision.

His scent is overwhelming — something masculine and spicy, fresh and clean.

“What’s the matter, sweet girl?” He questions softly, leaning forward ever so slightly to cage you in between the co-pilot’s seat and his armor. 

His bare hand cradles your cheek before trailing down to wrap around the nape of your neck. 

Your eyelashes flutter open and you meet the ominous visor. 

“Nothing.”

It’s a plain lie that’s so clear and plastic that it loses all the sharpness and edge that a true lie holds.

He shakes his head, eyes still trained on you. “Really? Nothing’s bothering you?” 

This time you shake your head. “Nothing,” you repeat with more firmness.

Stubborn.

He nods thoughtfully, a hum rumbling through his helmet before straightening out, pulling away from you a bit.

You sigh out a small breath of relief, finally having the space to breath air that wasn’t him. 

You let your eyelids slump shut again, though you should’ve know better than to think your stubborn boyfriend would leave you alone.

“Hey!”

He’s scooping you up in his arms, pressing you against his chest and moving before you can wiggle out of his grasp. 

He’s still carrying you when he descends the ladder, you’re too disoriented to figure out how but he does nonetheless.

He flops you down on the bed, tugging your dirty shirt over your head.

Oh. Oh.

You mentally shrug because even with the pounding of your skull you wouldn’t mind a quick fuck before bed—

But then Boba presses his palm against your forehead and pushes you against the pillow — and you also then realize that he had only removed your dirty shirt so that you wouldn’t complain about the *germs* getting on your pillowcase (which causes acne, you dutifully remind him - not that his buckethead cares).

Though you give him credit where it’s due. 

He’s being thoughtful. 

He disappears without a word, returning only a few moments later. 

He outstretches his hand to reveal three painkillers.

Thoughtful bastard. 

You’re still lying flat on the mattress and your eyebrows furrow. “I said that I’m not—”

He tugs his helmet off his head with a short breath, tossing it haphazardly at the foot of the bed.

Sometimes you forget how beautiful he is beneath his green bucket. 

Tanned olive skin, dark wavy hair that’s borderline shaggy, calculating eyes that glisten with mirth, and rosy lips that are tilted into a boyish smirk. 

“They’re not for you, kid,” he grumbles teasingly before throwing the three pills to the back of his mouth before taking a single gulp of the glass of water that’s still beside your bed from the night before. “Now move over.”

It’s a miracle that you actually listen, scooting to the other side of the bed so that he can collapse on the mattress.

His arms drag you into his chest as soon as he settles, tucking the top of your head beneath his chin. 

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he utters, voice tainted from exhaustion but you can hear the adoration. 

You smile softly, burying your face in his neck so that you can press a kiss to his collar. 

“And you’re annoying.”

Good thing I love you.