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#apologies if there is obvious favoritism it is just a little hard for me to write class 1A because i havent in soooo long-
isamoa · 6 months
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“ WHAT GETS THEM HARD! ”
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jjk men x f!reader ࿐ MDNI.
ᰔ、summary. jjk scenarios on how their dicks get hard ofc
ᰔ、tags. (ft. gojo, geto, toji, choso), nsfw, female anatomy, cunnilingus, exhibitionism, sexting, masturbation, etc.
ᰔ、a/n. these are just my silly depictions. if u dont agree idgaf lol
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SATORU GOJO has the dirtiest mind and the highest sex drive. his pants definitely start feeling a little tighter at the sight of you eating a popsicle or something. specifically in public. he would have no shame in it either—casually forming a smirk on his face and dropping a snarky innuendo about the way you’re eating. “can you suck me off like that when we get home?” he’d mumble from across the table, his eyes peeking out from the top of his glasses, a smirk plastered on his lips; wet from the constant licking of his tongue. your eyes widen, a small ‘pop’ sounding from your mouth when you took the frozen sweet out to gasp at the man in front of you. “gojo! are you serious?” you’d yell in a whisper, looking around to see if anyone had heard him. “you’re right,” he’d sigh, standing up from his chair to reveal the very prominent and very obvious bulge in his pants. “we should just do it now.”
SUGURU GETO on the other hand is a polite man. like satoru, he’s a real freak in the sheets—but not as shamelessly. the littlest things can get him hard for sure, but unintentionally seeing your undergarments would really get him going. like an accidental peek at your panties from under your skirt, or a shirt thats a little too see-through showing off the print on your bra. he wouldn’t say anything of course, not right away. you would just be minding your own business one minute and then he’s dragging you towards the bedroom the next. “sugu- what are you-?” you would ask in a confusing tone, craning your head to look at the said man who was now behind you—pushing your stomach up against the countertop; a single hand brought up to grope your breast while the other laid flat against your hip. “your bra is showing.” he’d let you know blankly; an attempt to distract you while his hand slid it’s way into your pants. you would look down in response to his comment, noticing that your bra was in-fact showing like he said. unfortunately for him, you also already noticed the hardon pressed against your back.
TOJI FUSHIGURO gets hard from eating pussy. simple as that. he will get embarrassingly sloppy—juices coating his face and dripping down his chin, loving every second of it while his cock slowly grows harder. emphasis on grows. and if you think for a second that he does it for your pleasure, think again. this man will eat you out purely for his enjoyment only. his eyes are closed and his hands are squeezing at your thighs—legs thrashing uncontrollably from the uncomfortable pressure in his pants that’s about to come undone. “toji- let me help you.” you’d beg with a whimper, dragging your hand from the top of his head down to his cheek when you noticed the constant shuffling of his legs and the crease in his eyebrow. he’d laugh darkly, the breathy snicker creating a hum between your core that made a whine escape from your lips. “im fine mama,” he’ll say cockily, pulling a hand away from your leg to undo his zipper. “ill cum soon, you don’t gotta do ‘nun.”
CHOSO is a needy guy. his face will turn red at a simple flirty text—but send him a slutty pic and he might just cream his pants. fully naked or dressed in lingerie, his favorite or not, he will definitely feel some pressure down below. he might ignore you for a while, uncertain on how he should reply; if he’s even able to. “fuck- couldn’t wait till i got home, could you?” he’d whine quietly, trying his best to keep his voice down from the bathroom of his office job; one hand holding the phone up to his ear while the other rushed to unbuckle his belt. “sorry cho,” you’d apologize from the other line, voice rather faint as you posed for another picture to send him. “when are you coming?” you ask doubtfully just as his phone vibrates with another notification from your contact. “now- im comin’ now baby.” he replies with a huff, phone almost slipping from his ear. “really!?” you try to clarify—much more excited than the first time. “no, i mean im cumming. right now.”
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cactuscoolerr · 6 months
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⋆。˚. on camera! - itoshi rin
• nsfw
• notes: this is completely based off of a twitter porn vid lol (´∀`) for some reason i watched it and immediately thought of rin.. so enjoy!
• (here’s the video link btw! (≧∀≦)) (pls watch)
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rin doesn’t send nudes. he thinks it’s stupid, a waste of time, and a huge risk to his image in case it gets leaked somehow.
nothing could’ve gotten him to send, until you asked in that sweet voice of yours with those pretty eyes one night he was real tired after a long practice. he could hardly resist you after being away from you for nearly a month now. he was growing sick of only being able to see and talk to you through a stupid facetime call.
“i miss you so much, rin rin.. miss your cock and the way you fill me up..” your gentle pout was just enough to make rin cave. his heavy sigh sounded through your phone, making your heartbeat quicken.
rin watched you on his screen, squinting slightly before nodding. “fine. get some sleep and it’ll be sent to you by morning” he spoke, looking around his room to figure out how he’d even take nudes.
you giggled softly and blew a kiss at your screen. “i love you, rin rin” the adorable smile you held on your face melted rins heart. “get some sleep too, okay? i love you so much and don’t want you getting sick”
“fine. you too”
“okay..” you smiled and reached for your phone, angling it slightly upwards, giving rin a view of your tits held by the flimsy white tank top you wore to sleep. “i love you. talk in the morning?”
rin nodded, grabbing his phone with a sigh. “uh huh. love you, hun”
you sent a kiss towards your phone before hanging up and rin set his phone down, still trying to figure out the whole sending nudes thing. he tried remembering when you’d send him nudes. pictures of your gorgeous tits in your bra or a mirror selfie while you were dressed in the pretty lingerie rin bought you.
or even your ruined cunt and fucked out face after you fucked yourself on your favorite pretty pink dildo in front of the mirror in yours and rins shared bedroom.
rin nearly scowled at the thought. it almost seemed effortless, and here he was losing his mind over it.
he stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom of his hotel room, glaring at himself for even agreeing to something so stupid. “cant believe i’m even doing this..” rin scowled, pushing his sweats down a little lower than he normally had them to show off just above where his semi hard cock began twitching to life.
phone in hand, rin contemplated taking the picture, his other hand awkwardly hanging at his side. he looked utterly stupid.
with a tired groan, rin dropped his phone on the countertop and stared at himself longer, pulling his sweats back up and going to lay down on his bed, giving up and ready to type out his apology to you.
though, instead of an apology, you woke up -very excitedly - to find a video that rin had sent you. before starting the video, you were met with the image of a body that you knew all too well. the room was dark, a faint light shining on his abs that showcased perfectly the water droplets, likely from his shower.
that alone was mouthwatering as you studied it more, seeing how it cut off right before his long cock was in view for you to see. you almost wanted to call him just to curse at him, though you figured watching the video first might be worth it.
immediately, you could tell that he was close to cumming. with the way his hand frantically moved up and down out of screen, it was obvious that he was growing desperate.
you watched his other hand glide across his body, something you knew made him insanely needy. his small gasps and groans infiltrated your ears, making your breathing grow heavy and your cunt clench around nothing.
the video continued and you pressed your thighs together, practically feeling his desperation to cum while your cunt grew wetter by the second. and you almost lost it when he gasped your name, moaning through soft breaths as his cum coated his delicious abs. you almost wished you were there to lick his cum off his skin, cleaning him off before kissing him to make him taste himself and how perfect he is.
“fuck..” you breathed out, restarting the video and slowly creeping your hand into your panties while propping up your phone to watch your boyfriend cum over and over again just for your pleasure.
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rin-fukuroi · 2 months
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𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧
Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.
If you want to support me and read my other works that won't be on Tumblr, you can always do it on my Boosty~
Fandom: Genshin Impact
Pairings: Ayato, Kaeya, Thoma, Neuvillete, Tartaglia x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, modern AU, established relationships, intimate photos, masturbation.
▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. P1Harmony - Do It Like This
Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq
Hey! I think you all miss the dick pic. Although no one asked me to do this, but you don't need to ask me even once to bring you something to eat! Enjoy your meal ( ˘▽˘)っ♨
✦ Ayato
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You'll have to try very hard, having endured all the cunning tricks of this man, in order to get a response photo from him immediately after he asks you to do your own.
Initially, it sounded like another joke, very typical for Ayato, but he was very surprised when you took it for a real request, pleasing the man with your piquant photo at perhaps not the most appropriate moment when he was at an important meeting. Fortunately for him, Ayato has enough self-control not to show how aroused he was by the image of your seductive body in front of strangers, but unfortunately for you, he just couldn't resist taking advantage of this opportunity.
It's always fun to play on your guilt, but when adding to your favorite collection of photos is at stake, a special excitement wakes up in Ayato. Of course, although you continue to play along with your lover from time to time, you yourself begin to get a taste. How much longer will he last, continuing to read your dirty messages and looking at the new photos that you took for him, before he snaps and just leaves work only to come home and fuck you to a state in which you'll not be able to not only type, but even pronounce his name? Ayato knows perfectly well what you are doing, so he staunchly withstands your attacks, believing that you yourself don't realize what you have just signed up for.
When he gets home, you better immediately wait for him on your knees without extra clothes, hoping that this will at least smooth out your future punishment a little, because if you think that Ayato will let you cum as fast as you want, then you're damn wrong.
As for his photo for you… Perhaps you still don't deserve to get them enough, but he'll definitely choose the most unfortunate moment for you to put you in an awkward position when one day a charming and insanely seductive photo of his naked body and an excited dick appears in your dialogue, to which you'll not have access. Next time you'll think twice before playing along with this scheming man, but isn't that why you fell in love with him?
✦ Kaeya
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art by @cheng25598
Kaeya doesn't even know what would be better, to discourage you with his unexpectedly racy photo or to start by forcing you to do it? But he's so carefree and lazy that he doesn't think long before just sending you a photo of his horny cock while he's dying of boredom waiting for you at home on his day off. Of course, he doesn't care at all that you at work and how, perhaps, all the colleagues around you heard your surprised squeak when you opened a dialogue with your lover.
This is the first time Kaeya has decided to have fun with something like this, expecting you to be embarrassed for sure. It pisses you off that he's right, and your face is inevitably blushing now, while you, trying to look as non-suspicious as possible, run out of your office, hastily closing yourself in the bathroom.
[Y/N]: Wtf, Kaeya?! I'm at work!
[Kaeya]: I just missed you;)
His carelessness will drive you to your grave someday, but you bite your lower lip, suddenly meeting the reflection of your flushed face in the mirror. You'd be lying if you said you didn't want to be at home right now, punishing your annoying lover properly, which is so obvious from the way moisture begins to accumulate between your thighs, settling on the fabric of your underwear. There are still a few hours until the end of the working day, but you're so infuriated by the ease with which Kaeya manipulates you once again, involving you in his dishonest game when you nervously glance at the door, taking a photo in the mirror, as close as possible to the concept of «sexy» in such an environment.
You were about to put your phone in your pocket, sending your reply photo with the indifferent caption: «Glad for you. See ya in two hours», expecting it to calm him down for a while, but didn't even expect to instantly hear the notification sound.
[Kaeya]: I don't think a photo in underwear will be enough to compare to what I sent u:( Or are u afraid that one of your colleagues will see what we doing?
[Kaeya]: If I were wit u right now, you'd have to hide a lot more obscene things.
[Y/N]: Huh? Do u really think u'd make me undress in front of u in the bathroom at my job?
You really don't know how Kaeya do it, but for some reason you fall for his provocations every time, now feeling the heat that you can no longer ignore burning your lower abdomen more and more, while your eyes slide over the most obscene lines that you've ever read, even considering that what kind of person you decided to connect your life with.
But one thing is for sure — now Kaeya's goal is no longer to dispel his own boredom, but to make you cum in one of the cramped booths while he enjoys driving you crazy with his unsurpassed talent for eloquence, describing in detail how he would fuck you in each in the corner of a small bathroom.
Next time, perhaps Kaeya should pay you a personal visit.
✦ Thoma
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art by @sonomi_rap5
Poor Thoma almost dropped out of his hands all the groceries that he decided to buy before returning home when he felt the vibration of the phone in his pocket, almost sure that this notification was from your message. You often write to him, knowing what time his working day ends, and asking him to grab something from the store, but this…
The confused man hastily turns away from all the people passing by, huddled in the corner of one of the shelves, when an attachment to your playful message appeared in front of his astonished green eyes, which said that you were looking forward to him at home. Is that new underwear?.. Thoma feels his cheeks flush with a bright blush, and his heart is pounding so wildly in his chest as he desperately tries to put aside all obscene thoughts. But this is hardly possible. You are so charming, adorable, divine in this photo, which he instantly saves before fixing his mesmerized gaze on him for a few more moments, feeling his cock harden and rest against his thigh.
«I'll be home soon!», — is the only message you get before Thoma disappears from the online, and you can't help but chuckle softly, imagining with what excitement and embarrassment he'll pay at the checkout.
As for him… Your gallery has been filled with his photos, perhaps not as soon as you would like. On the one hand, teasing a nice guy like Thoma is very funny, but on the other hand, you didn't want to embarrass him by luring him into your entertainment, which is not even the fact that he'll like it. But still, at some point you think that your relationship is strong enough not to collapse from one of your innocent… okay, obscene requests.
You'd like to see the look on Thoma's face when he saw the message with your dirty request. After a couple of minutes of silence, you were about to say that it was all just a joke, before you hear the notification sound, hurriedly grabbing your phone.
You have no idea where he hid to quickly take a cute photo for you, in which you can barely see anything because of the darkness in the room that Thoma chose for the photo shoot, but it's so charming that such a modest guy like him went to such obscenities for you, even at the risk to be noticed at your own work.
Thoma gets incredibly nervous when he doesn't get an answer from you for a long time, but he frantically looks at the inscription that you are typing something. Oh, should he have taken a better photo, or was it just a joke that he took seriously? But all his doubts and worries fade into the background, giving way to even greater embarrassment than what Thoma experienced when he received such a piquant request from you, when you send him a photo in response, but this time without clothes. The accompanying message contains detailed descriptions of how much you miss him and that you can't cope with how you miss your beloved boyfriend next to you to quench your thirst to feel his cock from that cute photo that he sent you, inside yourself.
What are you doing with him?.. It should be illegal to corrupt such an innocent guy in this way, but Thoma is really happy that he got the most beautiful girl in the world who is able to make him commit follies, just like he is now locking the door of some dark storeroom in his office, unable to cope with the desire that has captured him body and mind.
He doesn't know why you like to embarrass him like that, but… maybe he's starting to like it.
✦ Neuvillette
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It's not that Neuvillette didn't know how to use a phone at all, but let's be honest, this skill wasn't even necessary for him until the day you appeared in his life. Making the necessary calls and occasionally using banal SMS was all he was capable of, so using messengers was something new for him, which, of course, Neuvillette needed your help to figure out.
At first, both of you just exchanged innocent short messages, because, you knew, he couldn't often be distracted from his work due to an increased sense of responsibility, but one day a fleeting thought came to your bright head, which you managed to grasp and even decide that it would really be funny to just send Neuvillette your candid photo in the middle of the working day.
And really, what will he do about it?
Neuvillette is so sweet in his seriousness and responsible approach to literally everything in this world, which makes him a wonderful partner, but your hands have always itched so irrepressibly to throw something like that, knocking a stoically calm man out of his rut.
When you saw that Neuvillette had read the message, but had been silent for ten minutes, you almost thought that he had just decided to ignore your prank, but you had no idea what was really going on. After opening your message, Neuvillette just froze, not understanding what he should reply or do. It's the first time this has happened to him, and he's really discouraged.
The most respected and responsible judge doesn't say a word, just staring at his phone for ten minutes? This definitely doesn't go unnoticed. Although he is not particularly sociable, worried colleagues still wonder if everything is all right with him, finally bringing the poor confused Neuvillette out of his stupor. His head really had thoughts of consulting with someone on this topic, but he decides that this question is still too intimate to ask it to an insufficiently close person, so he has no choice but to solve this puzzle on his own and briefly unsubscribe to you that he'll be at home soon, before silently leaving the office.
To say that you were shocked to see Neuvillette on the doorstep of your shared house as soon as possible after receiving his message is to say nothing. But what struck you even more was when he hurriedly threw off his suit, with all the seriousness that only he is capable of, silently climbing onto your bed.
— Neuvi, what are you doing? Why aren't you at work? — you interrupt the man when he was about to throw off the rest of his clothes, before pausing, giving you a puzzled look.
— I got your photo.
— Yes… and?
— I thought you wanted to have sex, so I came home.
— Is that all?..
— Yes. Isn't that what you wanted? Why are you laughing?
p.s. After half an hour of an embarrassing but laugh-provoking conversation in which you explained to Neuvillette that couples sometimes exchange intimate photos while away from each other, it seems that the man finally realized for what purpose you committed such an uncharacteristic act for you.
Well… everyone learns from their mistakes. Next time, you might be lucky to see his inept first intimate photo if you tell him how to switch to the front camera before that.
✦ Tartaglia
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art by @eriimyon
For both of you, sharing any photos when you are away from each other is quite common, but Childe was still the first to dilute your usual correspondence, accompanied by cute and funny photos of your dog and what you cooked for dinner, with something more piquant.
Your lover, without any hesitation, asked you to take a photo for him when, on another of his long business trips, he felt too lonely away from you, and didn't even think about what he might receive a refusal to his request. You can say that you are both on some kind of your common comfortable wave, so you are happy to approach the task set before you even with some degree of creativity, making a photo of your breasts covered with whipped cream for Childe.
«This could be your dessert after dinner;)», — Childe is both touched, excited and saddened by your funny photo caption. He would like to be next to you to enjoy such a tempting dessert, but all he can do is take a photo for you in return.
[Childe]: Unfortunately, i didn't have cream next to me, so this is all the dessert u can count on!
You would have laughed at his joke if the dick on his photo that Childe took for you didn't look even more attractive than any sweet thing you can imagine. This is the first time that you have to describe in words all the things that you would do with this amazing cock, but it also had its own charm.
Your correspondence eventually ended in a rather heated conversation on the phone, which also came to naught as soon as the degree of tension between the two of you was so high that the only thing coming from the speakers of your phones was only moans and heavy sighs, while you were already in complete disarray, too lost in your own obscene fantasies. Perhaps Childe has never in his life masturbated with such pleasure as to the sounds of your sweet voice, holding in his head that image of you that was captured in a racy photo taken especially for him, just as you have never experienced an orgasm from how damn sexy his muffled moans sound in the speaker of your phone.
Of course, this is still so insanely little, but since then you both have a new common entertainment that you can do on lonely evenings to get over the separation. On the other hand, you have seriously opened a real Pandora's Box, now putting the idea in Childe's head that he can tease you in this way, so be prepared for the fact that one day you will receive a dirty message from him or even just a photo at the most inopportune moment (although no one said that you can't return the favor).
p.s. if u know the author of the rest of the art, write me their nicknames in private messages, and i'll add them in the post, because I have been saving these arts for a long time ago and now cannot find their owners:(
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mydearzero · 10 months
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Hello!! I was wondering if maybe you could do something with sub!Spencer and dacryphilia?
I also just wanted to say that I really enjoy reading all of your work and I'm so impressed with what you write! You have become one of my favorite writers on this platform!
now this, this is too good to not write. thanks for reading and the request! it's an honorary title to be called one of your favourites so I thank you! ♡
Pretty When You Cry | sub!Spencer Reid x Reader
MASTERLIST
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Summary: You hear Spencer crying after he'd overheard you joke about him with Derek. You better check in on him, right? Except he's definitely not crying. You find him in a... compromising situation. But he's not crying. You better rectify that.
Contents: NO Y/N, sub!Spencer, dom!Reader, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, praise kink, overuse of 'good boy', If I missed any warnings please tell me!
2.7K words
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"I bet he keeps his socks on," you joked, stealing a piece of candy from Derek and popping it in your mouth. He threw his head back in a hearty chuckle. 
"Or he takes only one off. Whichever one fits the vibe stays, since he's always mismatching." Derek added. He was about to continue, but you cut him off with a panicked look, spotting Spencer with a frown on his face. 
"If you guys wanted to know whether I keep my socks on, you could've just asked. There's no need to speculate and joke about my sex life behind my back. But I guess that's what pricks do." Spencer stomped to his desk, not making any eye contact. 
"No need to get so worked up over it, Reid. You should really take that edge off, somehow. You can whine either way." You continued chewing on the tough candy, taking another one from Morgan and throwing it in Spencer's direction when he didn't reply. 
"Yeah, Pretty Boy. When's the last time you got laid?" Derek raised an eyebrow. Spencer visibly tensed before pushing himself away from his desk and walking off. 
Convinced you'd upset him, you told Derek you'd go after him. Derek shrugged, saying he was heading home. 
You nearly collided with Hotch as he was leaving his office, clearly headed home. 
"Don't stay too late, there's a lot of catching up to do that can wait until tomorrow morning," he mentioned before walking to the elevator.   
You knocked on Rossi's door, entering when he answered. "Hey, did you see where Reid went? I think I might've upset him," you cringed. 
"I'm pretty sure there's nothing you can do that could possibly upset the kid. But he walked down the hall to the left from what I saw." Rossi clasped his hands together. 
"Thanks, Rossi. You're a lifesaver." 
You bid him goodbye before following his directions down the hall. You heard soft noises from one of the empty offices near the end of the long, winding hallway. It sounded like... Spencer? 
Was he crying? You hadn't thought he was that upset. 
You creaked the door open as silently as humanly possible, ready to console him and apologize for your teasing. 
You couldn't see him clearly, the light from the hallway polluting your vision into the dimly lit office. But you could hear him. God, could you hear him. 
The soft whines emitting from his throat drowned out the barely audible noise of his slick hand sliding over his hard length. 
Your heart rate skyrocketed. Spencer's touching himself. You felt a wicked smile creep upon your lips. 
You listened in on him a little longer, determining whether you were daydreaming or if the universe was really throwing this situation in your lap. 
His soft whines turned into pleas. It was obvious this wasn't the first time for his current fantasy. It seemed played out. 
You knew it was your lucky day when a begging whisper of your name fell off his lips. Oh, this was going to be fun. 
Your hand crept through the gap of the door, hand blindly seeking the light switch. You found it but didn't yet turn it on. 
You heard him get closer to the edge, exactly where you wanted him. When the noises of his hand sped up, desperately so, you made your move. 
You slammed the door open and turned on the bright, white light simultaneously. Spencer jumped to gather himself, wide eyes meeting your own. 
"What are you doing, Spencer?" Your tone was mocking. You already knew the answer, and Spencer had never felt more caught. His breath was haggard, eyes glazed over, lips pouting. He looked like a little puppy. 
"I'm- I was just- Uh-" Spencer stammered. You gave him a condescending smile. 
"I- Uh- I- You what, Spencer?" You finally walked into the room, closing the door behind you. You took slow steps towards the leather couch. 
Spencer was frozen. You never called him by his first name. He'd managed to haphazardly tuck himself back into his pants, but a small wet spot was already forming on the front. He'd been so close. 
He refused to look at you, choosing to stare at his lap, where his hands were unsubtly crossed over his crotch. You examined him for a second before taking his chin in your hand, squeezing his cheeks slightly. You turned his face upwards, forcing him to meet your eyes. 
"Answer my question, Spencer," you demanded. He looked up at you through damp lashes. He'd really worked up a sweat. 
He made a couple desperate noises but couldn't utter a coherent sentence. You raised your eyebrows. A constricted sigh left him as he looked at you in desperation. 
"What's the matter, baby? You usually have so much to say. Don't you have an answer for me, boy genius?" You pouted sarcastically. Your grip on his chin tightened. 
"I-" Spencer's eyes glazed over. 
"-was touching myself? Yeah, I gathered as much," you finished for him. You turned his face, examining it from every angle as you slowly brought your foot up to his crotch. 
"Move your hands, Pretty Boy," you demanded, pressing your foot against them. Spencer's eyes squeezed shut, slowly moving his hands. You chuckled darkly as you felt up his length. 
You tossed his head to the side and pushed on his shoulder, making him fall back against the couch. You slowly moved your legs to either side of his, straddling him. You moved your hips experimentally, purposely grinding against his clothed cock for good measure. 
His hands reached for your waist, but you grabbed his wrists before he could. "No touching. Sit on them if you think you can't stop yourself." 
Spencer moved quickly, tucking his hands under his thighs. You ran your fingers over the side of his face. He really was pretty. You stroked a finger between his eyebrows in an attempt to iron out the crease. His face and entire body were tense with anticipation. 
You ground your hips agonizingly slow. Your sluggish movement was obviously not enough for the whimpering man under you, but he knew better than to do anything about it. 
You would've continued your teasing longer, but you knew he'd been close to coming seconds before you barged in. You felt the wet spot on his slacks grow larger with the movement. He trashed, uncertainty written on his face. He had to touch you, had to move, had to do something, but he couldn't. 
"Please," Spencer uttered the magic word you'd been waiting for. You smiled and got off his lap, getting on your knees in front of the couch. 
You reached for his belt and undid it, all while your eyes never left his. You slowly tugged the slacks down, along with his boxers. His cock bounced free instantly, throbbing and red. Spencer clenched his eyes shut at the sensation. 
"Nu-uh, Spence. Look at me. Don't you want to be a good boy?" Your fingers wrapped around his shaft menacingly. 
"Yes! Yes, please. Want to be a good boy for you. Only you. Please," he begged. 
You smiled in satisfaction as you gave him a squeeze. Spencer threw his head back at the sensation, only to push it back and meet your eyes like you'd enforced. 
You moved forward and leaned over his lap, bringing the tip of his weeping dick to your mouth. You gave the slit a kittenish lick, collecting some pre-cum on your tongue. 
You saw Spencer breathe heavily, trying to contain himself. He bit his lip, attempting to suppress any noise, but failing miserably. 
You never took him into your mouth fully, only licking around the tip and squeezing his shaft every so often. 
"So good for me, Spence. You're gonna have to be quiet, though. Rossi's still here, and you know what a gossip he is," You stroked him as you spoke. You sped up your pace, enjoying seeing him try to stay quiet. 
His legs twitched, and you knew he was getting close. You quickly pulled your hand off him and got up off the floor. A loud groan left him at the loss of sensation, hips shooting up off the couch. 
The sound of his frantic breaths was like music to your ears. 
You moved to stand over him, tugging at the hem of his sweater vest. 
"C'mon, baby. Hands up," you urged, pulling the fabric over his head. You reached for his tie, undoing it and setting it aside for later. 
"Take your shirt off," you commanded, stepping back to watch the show. Spencer removed his hands from where he sat on them, watching you as he struggled to unbutton the shirt. You leaned against the desk nonchalantly, admiring your fingernails. 
He nearly sobbed in despair, shaking hands unable to undo the buttons. You liked him like this; helpless and desperate. You laughed at him, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he finally got the last button opened. He hastily rid himself of the shirt and searched your face for approval. 
"Hmm, good job, baby. Now, put those hands back where they came from. Remember, no touching," you reminded him. He tucked them back under his legs, and you pet his hair in approval before reaching for where you'd placed his tie. 
"Say 'Ah'," you motioned for him to copy you. He hesitantly opened his mouth. You raised an eyebrow, and he quickly opened it further. You placed the fabric of his tie in his mouth, tying it behind his head. He gurgled a little, struggling to give the makeshift gag a place. 
You got back on his lap, putting a hand in his hair and tugging at the roots. Spencer yelped but clearly liked the pain, eyes dilating. You moved his head backwards, exposing his neck for you. You placed a few kisses on his jaw, before moving down to his neck. You sucked several spots before finding the sweet spot that had him whimpering once again. His hands shot up from under his thighs, reaching for your ass. 
You removed your mouth from his neck, yanking at his hair. "Did I give you permission to touch me?" 
Spencer shook his head aggressively. 
"Words, baby." 
"N-no, ma'am," he stuttered. You smirked. Ma'am, huh? You liked the sound of that. 
"Good boy," you whispered in his ear. His hips ground upwards, desperate for attention. You decided you were done toying with him. You were glad you'd worn a somewhat loose skirt to work that day. 
You reached between your thighs, pulling your underwear aside. You lined yourself up, steadying yourself with one hand on Spencer's shoulder, the other on his cock. 
You sunk down, only slipping the tip inside before stopping. Your legs were going to kill you tomorrow, holding up your weight above his length, but it was worth it for the tears welling up in Spencer's eyes. 
"You're gonna cry?" You mocked, hand returning to grip his chin and squish his cheeks. He tried to keep it in, but the second you sunk down, fully sheathing him inside, the tears spilt, rolling down his cheeks. 
"You're so pretty when you cry, Spencer. My gorgeous little crybaby," You admitted. You lifted your hips, pushing them back down against his harshly. More tears ran down his face. 
"Shh, baby. Filling me up so nicely. Such a good boy for me." You assured him, setting a slow pace and bouncing on his cock. 
"Please, faster. Just a little, please," Spencer pleaded through the gag, almost unintelligibly. You pretended to think it over. 
"No, I don't think I will," you decided. It was mean. He begged you so nicely. A sob wrecked his throat. There it is. 
He convulsed in a mixture of pleasure and desperation, hips snapping up to meet yours. 
"Please, oh my God, Please!" It was like the only words left in his vocabulary were ones to beg for you. He sounded angelic. 
You barely increased your speed, but Spencer went berserk over it. You brought a hand to his face, wiping away the tears and looking into his eyes. 
"Such a good boy, so pretty. You're so good for me, Spencer," you babbled, losing your grip on the situation. He was hitting the right spot inside you over and over again. 
You closed your eyes in pleasure, frantically sliding on his dick. "Fuck, Spencer," a breathy moan escaped you. 
A newfound, frenzied whine reached your ears. You opened your eyes to look at Spencer, who seemed to calm at the eye contact. He wanted to watch you, make sure he was being good. 
"M-more, Fu-more, Pl-please," Spencer stuttered. He could barely get the words out over the gag and pleasure soaring through his veins. 
You obeyed, bringing your hands back to his hair and tugging harshly. You leaned forward to whisper in his ear, taking the tie out of his mouth. "You can touch me, now. Touch me, Spencer. Make me come. Make me come like a good boy."
Spencer groaned loudly at the words, hands immediately moving to your waist. His hips started moving uncontrollably, desperately chasing his release. 
You tugged at his hair in warning. "I said make me come, baby. I didn't say you could." 
His eyes widened, and he quickly moved his hands between your bodies, seeking eye contact to ask for permission. You nodded wildly, growing more desperate for your own release. 
His fingers made quick work of finding your clit, rubbing ferociously. The sensation sent you reeling, moaning loudly in his ear. A particularly sharp thrust nearly made you scream, tightening your grip on his gorgeous locks. "Shit, Spencer! Fuck, so good. So fucking good, baby. So big inside of me." 
You could feel Spencer was nearing his release again. This time, you had no intention to stop him, but he didn't know that. He was still frantically trying to tip you over the edge and succeeding. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, losing your grip on his hair and falling forward against his naked chest. Your hands found leverage on the couch, digging your nails in the leather as Spencer continued fucking up into you. 
"Please, can I come? Please, let me come with you. 've been a good boy, right?" Spencer begged. His desperate whines sounded so good, incoherent mumbles of "Oh my God" and "Please" repeatedly falling off his lips. 
"Yes, you can come for me, Spencer. Come with me. Make me come on your cock," you encouraged.
Spencer snapped, no longer caring if anybody heard him. His whines and moans were getting higher in pitch and shorter in frequency, mirroring your own. 
"F-feel so good around me. So tight. So good. Gonna come, g- gonna," Spencer's hips stuttered, thick length throbbing as he pushed it deep inside one last time. 
"Fuck, Spencer!" 
"Oh my God, oh my God, f-fuck," Spencer was unusually vulgar as he coated your walls. You sat down on his cock for a minute, gathering your breath and wiping the tears and other fluids from Spencer's face. 
You pushed a strand of hair away from his eyes and smiled timidly at him. "Hi." 
Spencer laughed a little and smiled back, breath still irregular. "Hi, yourself." 
"You good? I didn't go too far? I'm sorry for springing that on you, Reid. I didn't mean to make you cry." You ran your hands over his chest. 
"No! It was perfect. I loved it. T'was just really intense, you know?" He reassured you. "And please, we're past the last name basis now, don't you think?" You nodded and smiled, admiring his face for a second longer before carefully sliding yourself off him. 
Spencer winced, incredibly sensitive. Your sadistic side bubbled to the surface, if only for a split second, and gave his overstimulated cock a couple of tugs. He trashed against your touch, loud, pained wails falling from his lips. You let him go, walking to the desk and grabbing a couple of tissues to clean yourself up. 
"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," you smirked. Spencer's chest was heaving, but there was a satisfied smile on his face. 
"I guess you do have your answer now. I still have my socks on."
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coryosbaby · 5 months
Text
18+, MDNI !! Oliver Quick x reader x Michael Gavey
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♡ Bimbo! Reader letting Oliver and Michael take turns on her
♡ Like ughh. It starts out at a party where the both of them are sulking in a corner. Two losers with no friends and slightly obsessive personalities trying to socialize? No way, no way
♡ Until you come along, all pretty and pink, tits out and underwear peeking out of your skirt. And they’re both drooling as they see you, embarrassed to look at each other because of the obvious hard ons they have
♡ And you’re a little airheaded, but you aren’t dumb, per se— you got into Oxford, for christs sake! — so you notice their wavering glances
♡ Introducing yourself to them, asking if you can sit down. The both of them parting like the red fucking sea to let you take a seat between them on some random frat boy’s stained couch. Your bubbly personality enticing the both of them as you tell them your name and about how you had seen them both around
♡ Going on a rant about how you and them are similar — you have companions, but they aren’t close ones, and you came to this party alone. Besides a few frat boys (with ill intentions), no one really wants to be your friend. Call it stuck up rich kid attitude, or whatever
♡ And they nod along, palming their bulges in their jeans like fucking pervs. Nasty, icky boys
♡ You don’t notice until a few minutes in, and looking down at each side of your thighs and into their laps, you let out a sweet little giggle
♡ Teasing the fuck out of them, all while they’re completely flustered as hell and stuttering out apologies. But you just shrug them off, tell them it’s okay
♡“If you want.. I can help? I’m good with my mouth and… other stuff. At least, that’s what my ex boyfriends said! We can go in a room upstairs, ‘m sure the guy who owns this house won’t mind.”
♡(It’s Felix’s house. He does mind, thank you very much, and is sickened by the sight he sees in his bedroom the next morning)
♡ Oliver and Michael are at loss for words at such a simple offer. Awkwardly nodding their heads, they refuse to aknowledge the other’s existence as you grab their hands and lead them upstairs
♡ When you get into one of the rooms, you shut and lock the door. Your lips find Oliver’s first, because he’s the closest. He kisses you rough, desperate. Not a virgin, but not completely experienced either. Probably a drunken fumble with a girl in high school, nothing more
♡ When you kiss Michael, he’s so soft. Like, insanely soft. Lips and touch alike. His hand finds your cheek and he holds your head in his hands when he does it. It’s sweet. Definitely a virgin
♡ You push them both onto the bed, and your fingers nimbly play with the zipper on your pink top. They both watch in wonder as you pull it down, sliding the shirt off your shoulders. No bra .
♡ Both literally gaping, mouths wide open, as they stare at your tits
♡“They’re nice, right? I think they’re my favorite part about me, honestly.”
♡ And then comes your skirt. Short, so they know the color of your underwear already (bubblegum pink)
♡ They both gape as you slide it down, revealing yourself to them so effortlessly. You tilt your head as you ask them to take their clothes off, too
♡ It’s instant. Buttons are undone as quick as lightening, shirts fly to the floor. Underwear is pushed past their ankles. They don’t even care at this point what the other is doing. The only thing in their focus is you
♡ Sliding your panties down, you step out of them and make your way over to the bed. You get on your hands and knees in front of them, pussy exposed and wet, looking back with a smile
♡ “Which one wants to go first?”
♡ Oliver is the braver one, since he has more experience
♡ His cock brushes up against your entrance, clumsily slipping against you. Michael watches, stroking himself with a shaky breath
♡ Oliver sheathes himself in you in one go, whining at your heat, his hands dig into your hips as he begins to thrust into you
♡ He’s not gentle, really. Not even close. He pounds into you, desperate and only thinking of his own aching dick as he splits you open. Mouth agape, sounds tumble out of your glossed lips as he pounds you into mattress
♡“Mmm, give it to me, give it t’me, just like that.”
♡ You’re moaning like a pornstar, feeling every drag and every ridge of him. His fingertips leave crescent moons in your hips, painting your skin with pretty indents of his infatuation
♡ Michael moves to your side and presses a warm kiss to your mouth. His cock sits big and heavy against his stomach, and you try to reach out and touch it but he slaps your hand away
♡ Is he getting a bit cocky? Maybe. He must be doing something right if he’s getting to screw a girl like you
♡ That’s probably why his big hand curls into your hair and he yanks your head back so he can slip his tongue into the warm confines of your mouth. Spit slick lips collide against sticky red ones, making a smear of divine crimson. Oliver, groaning and pent up, is close. So incredibly, undoubtedly close
♡ With a tiny cry, you try to guide him towards his release
♡“It’s good, yeah? My pussy’s so warm ‘n tight for you, Ollie. Cmon, want you to fill me up, want it so bad..”
♡ He can’t say no to that, spilling inside you with a deep stutter of his hips
♡ Michael watches in excitement.
♡ Absolutely fucking insane for that pussy, I’m telling you !!
♡ Practically throws Oliver out of the way to get at you. Watching the way your little hole gushes creamy white cum, he can’t help but push into it
♡ It’s warm, sticky, wet. It’s the best thing he’s ever felt
♡ Whimpers as he presses all the way in. He’s a little bit bigger than Oliver, and your cunt burns from the stretch
♡ But it’s nothing you can’t handle. Your ten inch dildos can vouch for that
♡ Oh, Michael is needy
♡ Needy, needy, needy
♡ The way he fucks— rutting into you like an animal, while also cooing to you as Oliver presses his thumb against your tongue— makes your vision practically white out
♡ Oliver isn’t a completely selfish boy, of course, and his fingers reach down and rub your clit
♡ It surprises you. Usually they pump and dump. You guess he’s just different because he’s a loser
♡ Michael spears his dick against that spongey spot inside you, and you mewl, fucking back onto him with an avaricious intensity
♡ He doesn’t last as long as Oliver, but that’s okay
♡ He’s a virgin, after all. You wouldn’t expect him to
♡ And ughhh when fills you up :(
♡ It’s so precious, the way he whimpers as he releases inside
♡ Oliver just watches, a smirk on his face
♡ The sick fucking freak is already hard again
♡ Ready to go another round
♡ The minute Michael pulls out, Oliver is behind you and you’re being used again
♡ It’s okay, though. You have all night for the two of them to abuse your little cunt <3 they’re pretty boys, after all. And pretty boys deserve to indulge in sweet, creamy pussy
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:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi
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jade-jini · 6 months
Note
could i request my loser gp!sakura who keeps getting a hard on during rehearsels because of seeing reader doing the throwing it back move in Perfect Night 😓 and ofc reader has to helo help!!! duh!!!
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(Pervert Sakura is a popular favorite am I right or am I right yall?)
Sakura looking at you like this as you kept practicing the same moves over and over again ‘cause you couldn’t seem to get them right. At first she was just cheering you up, calling your name and clapping so you could feel supported and motivated by her as the good member and unnie she was<3 but when you were throwing it back -
Even after you got that part perfect, she kept telling you to work on it ‘cause “you weren’t there yet”, she’d say while discreetly fixing her boner in her shorts. What a good unnie, even offering to stay with you when everybody else left so you wouldn’t be alone practicing :((. Whole time she just loved how you moved and wanted to watch you without the risk of the other members and the choreographer catching her. Having to constantly check she wasn’t drooling ‘cause she kept staring at you with her mouth open like a dumbass 😭. Telling you she was gonna help you fix your posture, but it was just an excuse to get her hands on you, rubbing herself against your ass hoping you wouldn’t notice it ‘cause she wanted that feeling in her brain for later on that night when she gets home and touches herself thinking about you.
But Ofc you noticed, girlie was hard af, and too much of a stupid pervert to realize she was being too obvious.
“Unnie, what’s that?” You said, trying to turn around to see what was it that was poking your low back lmao
“W-what’s what?” She asked, trying her best to sound calm.
“I think your belt is hurting me wait”
“No! y/n wait-” she argued, trying to stop you from turning around, she didn’t need one of her members knowing how dirty minded she is :( but as you guys struggled a bit, she fell on her ass. With her hands still on your waist, she took you with her, making you fall seated on her lap. “Oh fuck..” she groaned, the pressure on her cock hurting but not in the bad way at all.
“Oh God, unnie I’m so sorry, are you ok?” You asked her, worried that you might have hurt her since the sounds she was making made it seem like it.
“Hmm y/n wait, stay like that please…” Sakura practically begged, starting to lose a grip on herself, having you so close to her like this making her forget she couldn’t just have you without making sure you were ok with it first. Her hands firm on your body stopping you from getting up. Her behavior got you a little confused, did you actually hurt her? If you did she would’ve tried to get you off her, right?
“What? Kkura unnie are you sure you’re ok? And what’s this on your pocket that keeps poking my leg-” you moved a bit just to give your hand enough space to check what was it on Sakura’s pants, and stopped when you realized. How stupid were you not to think about that possibility before. Sakura gulped, both ‘cause of the contact of your hand with her member, and because you caught her in such an embarrassing state. She was a little scared, what if you were disgusted by it? What if you didn’t wanna be friends with her anymore? What if you tell the others? Oh god, how would this affect the whole group? A million thoughts running through her head, while her other head stayed hard as a rock. However, you were everything but disgusted by this.
“So that’s why you kept telling me to continue practicing, huh?” You said, teasing her neck with your nose, your breath causing shivers on the older girl. “Tell me, unnie. When did I actually get it right, hm? For how long you kept me going just ‘cause you wanted to see me?”
“y/n, I-I’m sorry. I really am, I didn’t mean to-” she started apologizing, her voice trembling.
“Shh, it’s ok. You’re already having a hard time right now anyways, aren’t you?” You asked her, your voice softening as your eyes moved to her covered member. “Does it hurt, unnie?”
She didn’t say anything, she just nodded while her eyes followed yours, ashamed to look at you.
“Then I guess I should help you.”
“Eh?!” Sakura asked looking at you so fast with eyes wide open, not sure if she could trust her ears.
“Oh please, don’t act silly now. We both know this is what you wanted, right?” She nodded again, her face red. “Then let me be good and help my unnie. She helped me enough today with my practicing, right? It’s just compensating.”
And that’s how you ended up sucking her dick while she was seated with her back against the wall, the mirror in front of you guys as she enjoyed looking at you from time to time. Sakura’s cock was so sensitive though, that with every lick your tongue gave it she left out whimper after whimper. The tip turning from a pinkish to a more red color, you couldn’t help but play with it with the tip of your tongue. This making her not know what to do with her hands, they went from rubbing your back as she moaned “so good, baby. So fucking good…” to biting her fingers, to grabbing her own neck slightly with one hand, to her nails scratching the floor and the wall behind her, trying to grab anything while her brain became nothing with the delicious sensation of your mouth on her length. The deeper you got it inside your mouth, the closer you were pushing her to her orgasm.
“Ugh baby I’m so close, just like that…” She asked, her hands grabbing your head and keeping you close, making sure you stay right where you were. “Be good and keep unnie’s cock in your pretty mouth when she cums, ok?” She cooed you, letting you breathe for a few seconds only.
“Yes unnie…” you said, catching your breath as you quickly put her back inside your mouth.
“Good girl, such a good girl.” the older girl moaned, her voice hitting higher tones as she started fucking your mouth. You looked up and felt yourself clenching around nothing as Sakura looked so hot lost in her pleasure. Her eyes closed, biting her lip to try and fail to contain the obnoxious noises coming from her mouth. “Oh my god…” you heard her at the same time that thick ropes of cum went down your throat, barely allowing any air to enter but you didn’t care at all, you felt so good knowing it was your Sakura unnie using you like this. Knowing she was this horribly horny just ‘cause she watched you dancing.
You swallowed everything Kkura gave you, and when the grip on your head got loose, you finally took her cock off your mouth. When you sat next to her, she was still not there, clearly. Processing her orgasm, she just sighed and whispered “thank you..” and Omg she just looked so cute, with her hair all messy and her facial features clean of makeup and relaxed. You just giggled “anytime, unnie~” and kissed her cheek before resting on her shoulder, hoping practice becomes this interesting next time soon.
Ngl I went back to watch the dance performance and I got distracted🧍🏻‍♀️
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charliemwrites · 7 months
Text
Ding dong it’s time for more bodyguard!Gaz Thoughts™️
Gaz’s researcher is a Scientist through and through. They just so happen to be hired by the gov’ment. It becomes painfully obvious when they interact with military personnel.
Not! Because they think they’re smarter than military people, but because they have a very Civilian reaction to things. They don’t refer to anyone, not even Price, as “sir” or “ma’am” unless they’re being scathingly sarcastic. They don’t salute, they roll their eyes about curfew. Being ordered around is met with the flattest, rudest, “excuse you?”
A colonel once asked what they thought they were doing (in a part of the facility they were meant to be in no less!) and they just looked him up and down before walking off, Gaz calling apologies over his shoulder.
That said, Gaz is a clear Favorite. He’s earned credibility with them by never asking for things “just because.” So if he tells them it’s time to go, or to stay away from an area, or don’t leave without telling him, they (try really hard to) comply. And the rest of their lab follows suit.
Which leads to the hilarious and mildly horrifying scenarios where they disregard, ignore, or sass anyone that’s not Gaz:
“You need to come with me.”
“I need you to get out of my lab.”
“This wasn’t a request, that was—“
“I don’t care what is was, mind your damn tone.”
Kyle comes into the room, ignoring the other soldier. “We need you on the tarmac, chickadee, there’s something you’ll wanna get your hands on.”
They perk up, instantly abandoning a welding tool that their assistant scrambles to turn off.
“Ooh!” They trill, bouncing up to Kyle. They loop a couple fingers in his belt, automatic after this long, insurance they don’t wander off or get lost. “Is it something with holes or something with bits?”
“You’ll have to come find out.”
And just like that he’s rounded up them, their entire lab, and has a little procession of researchers following him happily to the tarmac. As the last assistant is leaving, they scrunch their nose at the first soldier. Honestly, what did he think? Kyle didn’t introduce him at all!
“So rude!” the assistant huffs, and locks the lab after them.
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rosedom · 2 months
Note
Oh, oh, new event!! :D
Albedo + ACDKM hear me out (hope that isn’t too many letters :P)
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you have summoned ALBEDO for the event . . .
A/N : i'm hearing u out, honey !! i hope we're on the same wavelength here . .
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✦ㅤㅤA = aftercare (what he’s like after sex, what he needs from his partner)
regardless of if he can even walk or not, albedo is first to nudge you with a warm cloth. he gives it to you for you to use, to bathe down the two of you quickly and perfunctory. it won't be sufficient in the long run—you'll definitely need a bath tomorrow morning—, but it's all you'll need.
he's a cuddle-bug, too, always burying his face into your throat. it must be this position, too: he's not content till he's got his nose snug in the hollow of your skin, breaths kissing the empty expanse where, on his own neck, lies that golden star. for a man so aloof, he truly adores you, and he is so, so glad to have given himself up to you in such an intimate way. it is humanity, the way he laid beneath you; and it is beautiful. prepare yourself for nonsensical murmurings, your sweet albedo describing just this notion to you while you're falling asleep, content in your lovers arms, his soft breathing lulling you into slumber.
✦ㅤㅤC = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
really, albedo doesn't often cum in that super "noticeable" way. he's not often a creamer, and he's certainly not like the people in pornos. 'bedo cums in that way that'd leave anybody less experienced than you to wonder if he even came or not. (it's not like he fakes an orgasm, either; he's just so . . albedo, that anybody else would think he came—that he's just as aloof in orgasmic bliss as he is any other time.
he's not, by the way.) his cunt'd be puffier, slightly, pink-hue turned more ruddy-red, and his cock'd be left twitching n' throbbing. and his voice—he whimpers n' whines all the time, but he has this very particular whimper he only makes when he's cumming. it's a reedy, high-pitched thing, but it's so, so obvious to you. your possessive heart is satisfied knowing that you can pull orgasm out of orgasm out of your albedo, and nobody else he slept with could have ever came (hah) close.
✦ㅤㅤD = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of his)
that damned golden star across his throat—it's sensitive as hell, and he's got a smattering of somethings that glitter—these little stars etched across his skin—that make him shiver, each and every time. none of these "freckles" throughout his body are quite as sensitive as that one in place of the adam's apple, but it's so, so easy to key him up . . . kissing up between each lil' star and not so much as getting close to his throat . . it drives albedo crazy.
imagining the way you could brush your fingertips across the smattering on the backs of his hands, maybe fluttering up his forearms . . . really, what makes it such a dirty secret is that way you have pavlov'd him to get hard n' wet off nothing but an innocent touch. it gets really bad when other people—his coworkers, friends, even—will accidentally touch the freckles, and, while they're apologizing for touching him and he's dismissing it, he's warm between his thighs.
those busy festivals in mond are always your favorite 'cos of it. all the people—he's not a fan of them, of course, and neither are you—make it an impossible tease to poor 'bedo.
✦ㅤㅤK = kink (one or more of his kinks)
it's less-so that albedo is into more stuff than his peers, and more-so that he's up to try almost anything. he's the epitome of an experimentalist; and it can stem from his desire to learn about the limits of the human body, or his desire to give himself up wholly to you. introducing a new kink into the bedroom ends up being a one-time thing, more often than not; and it's not that it was bad, per se, but it was simply . . . not worth doing again. albedo sees no attempted kinks as a "fail," per se—he sees them as an experience he was glad to have, but one neither of you are keen on trying again.
anything goes, really.
but the kinks that stay? 'bedo has found himself to be particularly into bondage, in most any sense of the word. spreader bars (which are admittedly a favorite, the way he's always left so open for you . . . the way he can't so much as hide his pale, pink cunt), simple bondage to shibari, and even all the different types of restraints: rope, silk, metal, leather, even his own clothes. that, and good ol' fashioned praise. he gets told how brilliant he is everyday, but it never amounts to the way you praise him even as his smart brain melts and he goes sex-stupid.
✦ㅤㅤM = motivation (what turns him on and really gets him going)
it really depends, with him. he's not this insatiable thing; most times, he thinks with his proper head—not his cockhead. but, back to that dirty secret of his . . teasing touches, teasing looks, teasing words . . . anything teasing gets albedo going. he turns to you, each and everytime, with almost no shame, either. whether or not you satisfy him—play dumb, deny him, whatever—is up to you.
however, i'd like to add this: albedo definitely cannot help getting a lil' hot between the thighs if he ever sees you roll up your sleeves. it's a silly turn on, really, but—god, albedo has something for your forearms . . from the way veins run down the length of them to the way your hands are left so tantalizingly exposed (and don't get him started if you're wearing bracelets or a watch, too) . . it all sends that smart, smart brain going from thinking about alchemy to thinking about nothing but those same, strong arms wrapped around him, those same, strong hands playing with him, those same, strong fingers absolutely ruining him.
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this is kinda irrelevant but also not but also i sorta kin albedo, so: ever since he's learned that tidbit of information about the color of your lips (supposedly) being the same that the head of your cock is, your nipples are . . well. it hasn't ever left my mind, and it certainly wouldn't leave his ┐⁠(⁠´⁠ー⁠`⁠)⁠┌ when he's staring at your lips, he either wants a kiss . . or he's thinking about your cock.
he'll test whether or not that theory is truly fact or not .3.
27 APR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
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autumnywinter · 2 months
Note
can you pretty pls do more yandere elliot?
I hope this is good! I don't know if it's obvious or not, but he's my favorite character to write for.
Yandere!Elliott x Reader
Tags: Stalking, manipulation, mentioned blackmail, gender neutral reader
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From the day you and Elliott met, you had become pretty close. Moving made it pretty hard to befriend anyone, especially due to your schedule, but Elliott seemed always available for you, always nearby and ready for a conversation. You and him had practically became best friends within the first few months of knowing each other. Elliott was a sweet guy, one that you cherished as a good friend.
Over the time you had moved, you had been trying to get back into dating. Elliott was supportive, and was always there to cry on when you were inevitably ghosted or dumped after one date.
This one really hurt, however. You were really into this person you had a date with, just for them to never speak again after the second date.
You turned to the one person you felt like would always be there for you. Elliott. You knocked on the door of his cabin, trying not to cry. It was pouring rain outside, soaking you to the bone. Your clothes clung to your skin, hair soaked and dripped down to your neck uncomfortably.
Elliott opened the door, worry immediately painting his face when he saw you shivering violently in front of him. "Y/n! What happened? Come inside, it's freezing out there!" He ushered you inside quickly, shutting the door behind you both. Elliott helped take off your jacket, hanging it up near the fireplace to dry it quicker.
"I'm sorry for showing up unannounced," you mumbled.
"Don't apologize, it's alright. Here, let me get you some dry clothes," Elliott said. He rushed into the restroom, coming back out with a fluffy purple towel and a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants.
It made you feel a little better imagining him own and wear such casual clothing. He had a huge vocabulary, but "casual" wasn't exactly something you assumed was in his dictionary. Even now, he was dressed in a beige turtleneck and black slacks.
Elliott dried your hair off with the towel gently, making sure to get all of the water out as best as he could. He then handed the clothing to you, turning around politely so you could change without him looking.
You quickly stripped from your wet clothing, putting on Elliott's warm, dry clothing instead. They smelled like ink and pine. Kind of like the trees that grew around your home.
"I'm done. Thanks," you told him.
He turned back around to face you. His cheeks were dusted pink, looking you up and down. Elliott cleared his throat and broke away his stare. "Of course. Do you want something to drink? I recently bought some hot chocolate, but I have tea too."
"Hot chocolate sounds nice," you responded quietly. Elliott smiled and went into the kitchen, returning shortly with two mugs of hot cocoa. He handed you one, sitting down on the couch next to you. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, to the point where you were basically laying on top of him.
It was normal for cuddling to ensue between the both of you. Elliott was a very touchy person, always holding your hand or hugging you tightly. You never minded, though. Elliott was always soft and warm. It was comforting.
Elliott's hand drifted to your still-damp hair, massaging your scalp. You let out a content sigh, melting into Elliott's hold. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"
Your contentment dissolved into sadness again. "I was ghosted. Again. And I really thought they were into me."
He cooed and put his own mug down on the coffee table in front of you both before taking yours. You followed suit when he opened his arms invitingly.
You crawled into his lap, arms around his neck and head buried into the crook of it. Elliott buried his nose deep into your hair and inhaled. You were too busy crying to notice.
Elliott's arms tightened around you, rubbing soothing circles into your back. "Shh... it's okay. You deserve the world, and if they don't realize that, they were never worth it to begin with."
"I think I'm the problem. It has to be something I'm doing if--what, three people now?--have already ghosted me after one or two dates." You leaned into his warm hands that thumbed away your tears. "Maybe I'm just unlovable."
Elliott stiffened underneath you and his expression hardened. "No. Y/n, look at me," he said. He never sounded so firm before.
You lifted your head up to look at him. Elliott's eyes softened as soon as he looked at your tear-stained face.
"You are not unlovable. If anything, it's their loss. You're wonderful and kind and absolutely gorgeous. If they can't see that, then they're idiots. Okay?" Elliott leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss onto your forehead. "And perhaps, true love isn't as far away as you think it is."
You were too tired to look into his usual flowery words. Instead, you nodded and curled up against him again. Elliott returned to holding you, letting you cry into his shoulder.
He hummed to you. His hand stayed in your hair, another one on your back keeping you pressed against him.
When you woke up, you were tucked comfortably into Elliott's bed. The blankets were heavy on top of you, warm and cozy. Elliott was still holding you, but you could hear his soft snores. You smiled a little to yourself. He must've carried you here. Elliott was a sweetheart, even when you cried into him for hours until you fell asleep from exhaustion.
You laid there for a while longer, trying to fall back asleep. You couldn't, though, so you carefully slipped out of Elliott's grip to find the bathroom.
Despite having been in his cabin many times, you never actually went anywhere but the kitchen and living room. Elliott's cabin was small, but the darkness made it seem a lot larger than it actually was. You didn't want to turn on the lights to wake him, so you fumbled for your phone but couldn't find it.
Trying not to trip over anything, you shuffled around until you were sure you found the doorknob to the restroom. You closed the door behind you and flicked on the light, just to see a closet.
Just as you were going to walk out, you noticed something odd. A photo of you laid on top of a box. You curiously picked it up.
It wasn't a photo of you posing for the camera, or a selfie, or anything of that sort. It was a photo of you from far away, walking through town. The photo was clearly taken without your knowledge.
There were more photos under it. All of you. You were in every single one. Some of you shopping, some of you working, some of you talking to your friends. One of them even had you changing through the window. Your stomach churned when you saw one of you in bed, sleeping peacefully. You could see his shadow looming over you in that one.
It got more disturbing. You saw articles of your clothing that you had lost and never found. A pillowcase that was stained with hopefully your past drool, a used hairbrush, and various other things were inside the box too.
The door suddenly opened and you jumped, dropping everything in your hands. You backed up against the wall, staring at Elliott with wide eyes.
He stared back at you, eyes flickering from you to the box and pictures on the floor. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. After a few seconds, he finally spoke. "Y/n, it's not what it looks like."
"Then what is it, Elliott?" you asked shakily. "What the hell is this?"
Elliott ran his fingers through his hair, sighing deeply. He crouched down and started picking up the pictures you dropped. "Please, listen to me. I would never hurt you. I just... I couldn't help myself." He collected all the photos with shaky hands and put them back in the box.
You didn't know why you weren't running. You should be sprinting out the door by now, but something kept you frozen in place. Elliott slowly stood up and took a step towards you. You flinched.
"I love you," he confessed. "So much. I've never felt this way about anyone in my life. I was so depressed before I met you. Everything was dark and meaningless. But then I met you." He stood close enough to cup your face in his hands, thumbs caressing your cheekbones. "You are everything to me. My light, my heart, my reason to live. I can't imagine living without you. I need you like I need air. Every time you're away from me feels like torture."
He leaned in close, forehead pressed against yours. You were still processing everything.
Elliott's breath tickled your lips. "I would do anything for you. Kill for you. Die for you. Anything you want, I'll give it to you. I could treat you so much better than those... people ever could." He spat out the word 'people', resisting to use another word to describe them.
Realization dawned on you. "Did you kill them?!"
"Of course not! I just," he dragged out a long sigh, letting you back away from him, "scared them away. If threatening them didn't work, I got blackmail on them. That was the only way your last date left you alone."
Your knees were weak. "You're sick."
Elliott frowned deeply. "I'm in love." You opened your mouth, but he cut you off. "Who do you go to when you're sad? Me. Who do you talk to about your problems? Me. Who do you call when you need comfort? Me. I'm the one who's always there for you, Y/n. Not them. Maybe you don't realize it, but you need me just as much as I need you."
"We're done talking, Elliott," you said. You tried to push past him to leave, but he grabbed your wrists tightly. You winced. "Let me go."
"I'll die without you. Please, stay," Elliott begged. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. I just got overwhelmed. I promise I'll be better. Just please, don't leave me. I can't handle losing you. I'd never ever hurt you."
Your shoulders sagged, so Elliott let his grip only slightly loosen. "You're scaring me."
Elliott cooed. "Oh, sweetheart. You have nothing to be scared of. I could never hurt you. I just love you so much." He released your wrists completely, only to wrap you up in a tight hug. "I just want what's best for you. And that's me. I can take care of you. You wouldn't have to lift a finger. I'll cook for you, clean for you, I'll do anything for you." Elliott was almost crying into your shoulder. His entire body was shaking.
Your fear and disgust turned into pity. Elliott was clearly sick. He needed help. You wrapped your arms around him hesitantly. Elliott melted into your hold like butter. He held you tighter, if that was possible.
"Elliott, you need help. This isn't normal." You rubbed his back in an awkward attempt to comfort him.
"I don't need help, I just need you." Elliott buried his nose into your neck, inhaling your scent.
You pursed your lips. Elliott was a good friend. He was always there for you. That was the only thing that prevented you from storming out the door or slapping him across the face. Well, that and the fact you were still terrified of him. "Why don't we lay down? It's late."
Elliott pulled away to look at you. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were red from crying. He nodded. "Yes, you must be tired. Let's go lay down." Elliott took your hand and lead you into his bedroom again. You both laid down and Elliott immediately wrapped his arms and legs around you. Your face was almost smothered into his chest, and his scent didn't carry the same comforting smell as it normally did.
"Elliott?"
"Hm?"
"Will you let me leave in the morning?"
Elliott was silent for a moment. You thought he might've fallen asleep until he replied, "We'll talk about it in the morning."
That was code for "probably not".
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weebsinstash · 6 months
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hey, can I have more husband and wife family dynamics with thragg? maybe more about her pregnancy or the kids' childhood/baby time?
Sure can! It's been pretty fun writing about potential scenarios where this monstrous piece of shit can actually feel love. First and foremost I was watching a video on YouTube going over this scene again and uh Comic Readers KNOW How Fucked This Man Is. um, out of context vague spoilers but, I'm assuming people asking about Thragg have read the comics or are curious about the comics but like yall Need To Know how he treats the kids of his enemies
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I feel like I need to share/remind people of this scene because like, this man can be kind of hard to pin down. He's from this loveless society that sees kindness as weakness and he's like King Dickhead but there are still times when he can be quite courteous, even apologetic, sarcastic, whatever. I think at the end of the day he's just a very selfish, explosive, emotionally impulsive man but revisiting this scene was a little surprising for me since I forgot he was even like, capable of "small kindnesses" like saying sorry or whatever. Like. Is him wiping her tears while smearing blood all over her face a well intentioned accident or is he like waging psychological warfare on this like, i think she's literally 5 years old. What is the purpose of him apologizing to a child for splashing blood of her family member on her when he intends to kill her or leave her for dead in front of her dying parents anyways. I'm still trying to get a feel on this man
THAT BEING SAID, moving on, we're talking about a yandere Thragg today and thankfully that comes with perks
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- it's pretty obvious but like, you are his favorite mate and your children are his favorite children. I like to think of concepts with Reader being Ursaal and Onaan's mother or even the previously mentioned triplet idea with Mark being their sibling (otherwise I'd have to invent new characters and that doesn't, resonate the same, and I also really like Ursaal actually and I feel like there's some real story potential in Ursaal discovering more of her humanity through her mother's kindness and wanting to protect her mother from her father)
-can you imagine like. I still think about the idea where you're actually Nolan's mate but one day you mouth off to Thragg and he "puts you in your place" in front of Nolan as a punishment to you both and like a month later you find out you're pregnant and, I imagine abortions are only done on Viltrum if the fetus is too weak or defective, so you're forced to carry it and you and Nolan are lying that it's his and then one day Thragg just, passes by, sees your swelling tummy, takes one sniff of you, "it's mine" and demands a paternity test. And you'd think, "oh surely he'd just take the baby" which is what you'd prefer but, no it becomes a pretext for him to steal you from Nolan altogether
-you're fed incredibly nutrient dense, protein packed, ultimate pregnancy food because Thragg wants those babies as healthy as possible. Thragg has probably had other alien kids before but these are his first hybrid or nearly fully Viltrumite children and that makes them special. New dad Thragg holding up these little absolute mammoths of newborns with all their chunk and pudge and rolls and he's just so proud, "look at how robust these children are! Surely they have inherited my strength! Fine additions to the Viltrum Empire were born on this day" and you're like half awake in bed and he just, pets your hair
-ok just. Ok just picture it like. You're pregnant and upset and so stressed out because you didn't want to be Nolan's mate after he helped conquer Earth but at least you had known him and liked him initially. You're just constantly stressed out and angry and watching every single word you say around Thragg because you don't know him or what he's capable of, but I imagine a sort of scenario where he's taking you to the doctor and running tests and procedures and just, you know prenatal checkup stuff, but the doctors are all speaking to Thragg instead of you, you aren't even being told your own test results, and the two of you finally arrive back home and you just break down crying and kind of tear into him, "I'm sure YOU have had lots of kids before but I'VE never had a baby before and I don't know what to expect or what's going to happen or- or -" and you're just bawling because, it's not a lie you're scared. You're having a baby and you're gonna be a new mom and it's entirely against your will, out of your control, and that's incredibly stressful. And this becomes a moment where Thragg actually shows some humanity by sitting you down and discussing the doctors visit with you, and that's one of the first times the two of you actually have a civil, extended conversation
Thragg thinking he's so fucking big and tough and then he sees you this little fragile fleshy untrained civillian with the big teary boo hoo eyes with your shaking hands on your little belly as you cry about being scared about giving birth to his baby and he's just, "shit I DO have feelings" and immediately feels the overwhelming need to comfort you. He'll comfort you under the guise of "stress isn't good for the children" which is true but, it's him blanketing his own concern and masking it under an excuse
-I kind of feel like that hypothetical event would be like, a footnote in your relationship. He starts treating you differently, attentive in new ways, more... emotional ways. He'll stop by while he's working on a break or something to check on with you and the assigned caretakers he has guarding you (because the very second you're confirmed pregnant you have 24/7 security) and he'll awkwardly grunt out questions about, have you eaten yet, are you experiencing any pain today, any discomfort, any new symptoms. He'll check in with your guards/nannies privately about if there's anything you're doing that he needs to know about, give tou a nice husbandly shoulder touch and then (reluctantly) getting back to work
-to be blunt part of me questions if he even has sex to create children or if he uses something akin to IVF and I only say this because of the absolute ASSEMBLY LINE he sets up on Thraxia. Trust me though he beats the kitty up with you CONSTANTLY
-I actually think after giving birth is like the ONE time you're allowed any birth control because apparently if you have too many pregnancies in too close time frames it actually sucks the calcium out of your bones and can give you osteoarthritis and Thragg wants you healthy, "for more future children obviously" which is such a lie because let's say you have your miracle birth of giving him twins or triplets or whatever but you hemmorage and become infertile or whatever. Mf is STILL keeping you around. When you think about it he technically doesn't even need you to help raise his children, he has people for that, but he forces you to be part of the process anyways
- tbh I kind of like the idea of Thragg developing some weird fucking like complex where he discovers he feels comforted cuddling you, like man gets hit by oxytocin like a fucking freight train, and it becomes him literally being unable to sleep without you in his arms. You could be in a yelling screaming argument with this man and he suddenly like, just completely shuts you down, "ENOUGH!! I require rest and I won't tolerate anymore of your childish whining!" And you could be spitting mad at him and he's just, picking you up just physically picks you up and drags you to bed anyways. Hooks his arms around your waist as the big spoon and buries his face in your hair even as you spit insults about how you hope he kills himself
Like I think I've mentioned this idea with other characters before but imagine Thragg waking up on the middle of the night IMMEDIATELY PISSED because the bed beside him is cold and he finds you on the couch, on the couch, maybe even without blankets and visibly uncomfortable, because yeah he WILL wake you up to drag you back to bed with him.
- Thragg being this warrior who literally watched people be disembowled and tortured and conquered races but suddenly you're in labor and he's in the delivery room (he refuses to wait outside) watching you literally scream in pain and he just, takes your hand and tells you to squeeze, and that it'll be alright, and he sees you so vulnerable and scared and emotional and you're looking to him for some kind of help but he can't, even with all his strengths and feats he can't help you right now, however this pregnancy goes is up to fate and the doctors and he feels like an actual visceral HUMBLING sense of helplessness that just makes him, even more obsessively protective over you
- deadass if it becomes a "he can only save one: you or the children" life-threatening pregnancy scenario, he chooses you. Says you can always try again but even if you wind up infertile and "useless" to him, he's too attached to you at this point, it doesn't matter if you "don't serve a function" or whatever bullshit Viltrumite mindset he may have had with previous mates before. You're different to him, and you're making HIM different as a person
- You're just half alive on the couch because Giving Birth is Hard and here's Thragg doing shit like personally bringing you water, feeling your forehead for any fever, monitoring your condition, aggressively interrogating your guards for extra info, sitting beside you with your babies in his arms. He lets you rest after giving birth and nearly bends over backwards
- I feel like at some point you're forced to accept a lot of real fucked up stuff and especially if you are a hybrid Vultrimite yourself and thus will be with Thragg for, basically forever, like some real "mate, do you have any cravings today. What do the children require" "ummm... at the ceremony last month, there was that... blue, little.... crab thing?" "A Florkian. They are incredibly rare" "oh... I'm sorry, I didn't know-" " -and since I observed that you were fond of the taste when you were consuming them, I went ahead and conquered their homeworld and farms have been established. I can have the slaves prepare a dish for you right away" "oh, thank you, ive been craving it ever since i ate it but i didnt want to bother by asking 🥰" "as your mate it is my duty to provide for you. Do not keep any of your desires from me"
- your children are getting trained as soldiers the second they develop powers and that's something you'll have to get used to. If your little babies get their powers at 5, they're still learning combat, getting knocked around, near beaten, "toughened up". Thragg will conceal the full extent of how they're treated from you because the way he sees it, you weren't raised on Viltrum and you're simply ignorant of their culture. He doesn't need you to accept how things are. Your kids will come home with black eyes and bruises and bloodied noses and he'll growl at you not to make them too soft as you weep over Ursaal missing a chunk of her hair because an opponent grabbed her by it and she had to break away and some was ripped out at her scalp, like. The psychological damage of asking your small child how their day with their father went, "it was excellent mother, I made my first kill!!" And then gleefully describing to you in detail how while their father was fighting an enemy soldier, the soldiers child attacked yours, and, your baby killed another kid. Like. That's the sort of thing you have to be raised with to block out of your heart. Going to hug your child who may not even be 10 years old and they have literal blood on their hands
-personal headcanon but also semi canon but I imagine Ursaal is the most competent of your twins and is Thragg's favorite. She just has a better tactical mind on her shoulders and isn't, uh. As horribly sadistically violent as Onaan. Like say your kids become platonic yandere or whatever, or, you have your own kids with thragg and the twins are separate but still attached to you. Onaan is the kid you find killing cats because he's jealous they get more attention than him while Ursaal is like, giving her father incredibly detailed reports and her own insight into what you've been up to, how you're feelings, things you say and do when Thragg isn't around
-so I know y'all see that image I posted with Thragg and his twins. I tried to censor, The Cape last time but I realized like, even with censoring the head it's still super obvious who that is, there's only one white furred creature in this entire show. I imagine after Thragg gets his Beast Drip that, once Throkk's daughter comes for revenge, she is also slaughtered, and her pelt becomes YOUR cape. Or maybe Thragg offhandedly mentions to you that BB Jr has vowed vengeance and you're casually flipping through a book, "is she as strong as her father, like if you had to rate it 1 to 10 with her father being 10 and 1 being a human. If the daughter is at about a 7 or below, Ursaal should be able to handle her, get herself a nice coat to match her father" and Thragg feels this warmth in his chest to hear you're actually observant of his/your children and their prowess, especially to hear you praise Ursaal in such a uh violent context, just casually suggesting his daughter could turn another sentient humanoid creature into a pelt to wear. This is another example of "living the viltrum life will eventually dehumanize you and rob you of certain empathies"
- I don't think you would actually have a title but could you imagine if Thragg decides you're like, officially his true mate, like the mate above all others, like you're the Empress in his little harem of concubines and ladies in waiting. I hc that your official title is something like Grand Duchess or perhaps if this is the twin/triplet scenario something more vaguely historical sounding like The High Mother or Regent Mother or, you get the point
-I still think "Reader turns out to be an incredibly late blooming hybrid" is a neat concept but I also don't know how they would miss that since during your pregnancy and all you're receiving medical care out the ass but like. Thragg personally training both you and the children as a family. Would be kind of humiliating honestly because it's kind of vaguely implied you should learn things before the kids do and if you struggle, here's Thragg, telling his kids in private they have to protect you and keep an eye on you and report any problems back to him
- thragg would definitely be training you in hand to hand but suddenly finds he can't bear hitting you in the face or hitting you at a certain strength. Like. Absolutely 100% you're gonna have a lot of scenarios where you're brawling or wrestling and he pins you and it swiftly transitions to you getting rawdogged from your high on adrenaline husband. Tbh that sex would probably be his favorite, where he has to defeat you in combat and then rewards himself. Can probably border from hatesex to consensual to noncon, not that he has a problem doing THAT to you either
- probably has portraits done of you and him. Idk do you think Viltrum has like enough art culture for portraits to be a thing? Most fascist tyrants have portraits. He would have several done: you and him, just you, you while pregnant, him and you while pregnant, you holding your babies, you and him holding your babies, and family shots as they grow up. Say you conquer a planet together as a family and one day you're revisiting and there's some sort of museum set up amd you find like a wall length portrait of, you and your children soaked in blood tearing carnage through the fire and flames and Thragg is beside you just nodding in approval, "they captured your image rather well"
- goooooddddd imagine you're just a normal human and you progressively start showing signs of aging. You start getting more wrinkles. Your body starts working in different ways, popping, cracking, aching. Onaan, Ursaal, and Thragg all notice and they're like FREAKING OUT HONESTLY. The children don't want to accept that their mother is actually going to be a speck on the timeline of their entire lifespans. Thragg doesn't want to accept that he has to let you go and you're never coming back. They all become obsessed with finding ways to keep you young, keep you alive, fuck it they'll clone you and transfer your consciousness into a new body if they have to! This is comic book world and these are obsessed aliens and they have OPTIONS
- something something "what if Reader isn't a viltrumite hybrid but is still like super-powered or a mutant or whatever and this isn't revealed until you like are fatally injured or even DIE die and suddenly you, pop back up". Cause I feel like this "close call" would drive any yandere literally insane because, what if there's no second chance, what just happened, can you still die, they can never never never never never allow you to get hurt ever ever ever again
Thragg just walks into the kitchen and you have the stove top red hot and you've just got your palm resting on it and you look to him kind of just shocked, all, "look... nothing happens... I just feel some of the warmth" and Thragg just puts his fist through your oven anyways, "you could've gotten hurt" and immediately picking you up and carrying you to some sort of perceived "safer place"
- this is like a specific scenario but like, can you imagine as a mom you like to brush and comb Ursaal's hair and you idly suggest she could always grow it out more and you could help braid it and things, but once it starts getting longer Thragg objects and says it could get grabbed during a fight and orders her to cut it but you step in and say she shouldnt have to, it's HER hair, and you two get into it, and one day Ursaal is brought home by her father and he's all but shaved her head after she had actually grown it out to a decent length. You and Thragg are at odds over how to treat rhe children and Ursaal begins to realize that many of the restrictions her father instills on her are because of a way of life she may not fully agree with, a life filled with violence and bloodshed with no room for love or kindness or creativity. She probably helps you from going over the edge too, honestly. If anything else through this life with Thragg, in your darkest places you may still find yourself thinking you have to keep going to try and help your children
- with others, Thragg is the kind of yandere where he's standing in the same room as you and you're both doing completely different things and he suddenly says, "so I noticed during the meeting that your eyes kept lingering on my mate" and without further warning he's beating up someone on the accusation they were lusting for his wife, no discussion, just fists , and he'll do shit like this a lot to the point people don't feel comfortable being around you and you're just further socially isolated
- I feel like Thragg would have some weird like fondness slash fetish for watching you breastfeed. Like, awww here's his cute little wife with his chubby little babies and you're giving them their nice milk, what a good mom, providing for the babies he put in your belly ❤️ part of me is convinced if you're a viltrumite or hybrid or whatever that you uh. Eventually wind up with a lot of babies. A LOT of babies. Do you think he would want a specific amount or its just vibes. Like you're over 300 years old and you've already got 50 kids with him but he sees you teaching one of your youngest sons how to throw a punch and suddenly he wants another
- all I'm saying is if he ever catches you self harming or attempting to hurt yourself he's gonna have a real extreme reaction. Like he finds you cutting yourself with a broken glass and you're immediately restrained and taken to a hospital, completely stripped, inspected for other wounds, and if there are any and especially a lengthy history of them, you're in such trouble. But I also think it would be extremely difficult to hide this from him since as time goes on you two are constantly having sex or he's inviting himself into your shower to bathe with you. You accidentally bang your arm on a counter or something and get a tiny bruise, this man will know about it and wants a detailed report on where it came from
- even when you guys aren't super familiar with each other and you've "just met" he's already protective and all that. Like you've just been brought into his home and you barely even know him still and he may even act mean and angry to you and then one day he sees you have a large bruise on your arm, "what is this?" ".... it's nothing, Grand Regent" "I asked you a question and you'll answer me: where did this come from" "... I spoke out of turn with one of your advisors and turned to leave without permission, Grand Regent" "And so they grabbed you?" "Yes Grand Regent" "who" "it was my fault, I-" "WHO" and the second you give a name or description he's wordlessly leaving the room and shows up again HOURS later with visible blood on him, "it has been handled. You are not to be harmed or punished without my permission or instruction"
- in some scenario where you leave the kids behind and try to run away, like... he isn't just gonna throw up his hands, "well I already got children out of her, she has served her purpose" and leave you the fuck alone. If anything this man would track you down just to tell you off for having the fucking nerve to disobey and defy him! I can picture an actively captured wife where you are constantly kept on some kind of restraint or have a bracelet or collar or even a LEAD THAT HE HOLDS and you're IMPRISONED rather than "I'm being monitored but otherwise I have my own agency". Thragg will make himself a throne that you can be chained to if he has to. He'll have restraints made that are decorative and complimentary of your features. Imagine he's making some sort of public appearance and while he's speaking he's got an arm around your waist and you're pulled up against him and meanwhile you've got. A bar gag and cannot speak
- really, truly, in a way, you become a symbol, but one of all different kinds. There are Viltrumites who see how their mighty Grand Regent treats his mate and they are viscerally disgusted (Kregg and Lucan comes to mind), like people who really start to question the society they are living in, questioning if it really must be so selfish and devoid of empathy, questioning if they really want to keep living this way and for their children and their children's children to live like this. Then there are others who see the way the Grand Regent controls his mate and see its as a sign of strength and permission to treat their own mates the same.
Mostly, though... the only thing that will take you away from Thragg is death. Until the day one of you dies, you're stuck with him, and there's basically no one around who's stronger than he is, period. You might as well cozy up and get friendly with your new husband, since you're going to be together for a long time and spend lots, and lots, and LOTS of time together ❤️
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nico-di-genova · 2 months
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6: “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”
Or
46: “Tell me a secret.”
- or any of the ones that inspire lestappen pretty please 🤞😘🥰
6. "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?" WARNINGS: NSFW, like in every sense of the word
“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed,” Max asks nonchalantly as he’s kicking off his shoes, one hand balanced against the wall above the light switch, the other on his hip.
“Besides the obvious I mean.”
Behind him, Charles shifts against the sheets, rolls onto his back and props his elbows up behind him so he can sit up and cast Max an annoyed look.
“I cannot be romantic? I thought you liked my ass, non?”
Max shrugs, “Of course I do, just wondering why it’s out in my bed at three in the afternoon.”
Charles pouts, sticks his bottom lip out, like he is offended his ass is not being better received. Max laughs, leans down to kiss the petulant look off Charles’ face before pulling away and resuming stripping languidly, pulling his bomber jacket off his shoulders like he has all the time in the world.
Charles makes an affronted sound, “Our bed.”
Max feels something flutter in his stomach, smiles in acknowledgement, “Yes, okay. Our bed. That you are naked in at three in the afternoon – with the curtains open.”
Max’s apartment, their home, sits high above the street. A penthouse that costs him too much for how little time they spend in it. He’s not really worried about the neighbors. He just likes to see the way Charles’ annoyance deepens, the press of his lips into a thin line and eyes that flash with obvious irritation.
“I am surprising you.”
“I do not like surprises.”
“I think you will like this one.”
The flight from Milton Keynes to Nice had been exhausting, but Max wasn’t tired enough to miss the obvious teasing, the goading as Charles’ voice lilts heavy with want. He also wasn’t tired enough to deny himself the simple pleasure of his boyfriend’s cock in his mouth.
He drops to his knees at the foot of the bed, hands grabbing Charles thighs until he’s got enough grip to pull the man to him. Until he’s close enough that Max can press a chaste kiss to the side of his knee, his inner thigh where his thumbprint is still fading, working his way upward as Charles’ breath stutters in his throat, somehow obscenely loud in the quiet of the space.
“So is this how you want to spend all of summer break?” Max asks, pausing his exploration of Charles’ body, but not pulling away. His breath is warm against Charles’ skin, the promise of something more with enough edge to make Charles a little crazy with the thought of it.
Teasing him is so fun, maybe the best part of being able to have the man at all. Yeah, the sex is great, but the way he can take Charles apart simply by picking at the exposed parts of him, that’s orgasmic on its own. Charles sounds so pretty when he whines, Max thinks it is probably his favorite noise.
“Because I’m not against it, Charlie. Keeping you here, spread out for me.”
Charles keens.
Max knows if he looked now he’d see a blush spreading across the Monégasque’s cheeks. Instead, he presses his lips back to the soft flesh of Charles thigh, kisses him innocently, and then bites.
Charles jerks beneath him, a startled cry filling the empty space of the room. It is Max’s firm hands on his thighs that hold him down onto the mattress.
“You- you are a menace.”
Max laughs, “You started it.” He licks the spot where Charles’ skin is already turning an irritated red, like an apology.
One of Charles’ hands finds its way into Max’s hair, scratching lightly along the scalp. Max chases the feeling until he’s shifted upward, his attention pulled to Charles’ dick dripping precum against his stomach. His stomach that’s already wet with a significant amount of it.
Max chokes a little on his own spit.
“How long have you been like this, baby?”
He pictures Charles hard and leaking while Max had his final debrief with the team before the official start of break. Pictures Charles whining for him while Max was sipping ginger ale from first class. Not coming, or touching himself, because Max knows what the aftereffects of an orgasm looks like on Charles and none of the signs are there.
“Too long,” Charles whines.
Max glances up at him, finally takes in the flush of his cheeks and his bitten raw lips. The way his pupils are blown wide already, before Max has even touched him.
“Please,” Charles begs.
Max admires his resolve, because he nearly comes in his jeans just from hearing Charles plead. Instead, he takes Charles’ dick in his hand and licks precum from the tip like an apology, while Charles tenses and a cry of relief spills out of him.
It’s a cry that only grows in volume when Max sucks Charles into his mouth and swallows down to the root.
“Fuck.”
Charles’ hand in his hair pulls, instinctively, unthinkingly, until Max can feel the sting of follicle being threatened to be pulled from root. Charles’ fingernails are pinpricks against his scalp. Max presses his tongue to the underside of Charles’ cock, the vein there, just to make Charles pull harder.
“Fuck. Merde. Fuck.”
Max wonders if Italy knows he has their golden boy spewing profanities like water from a fountain. Wonders if the Tifosi realize he can take their predestined apart with just his tongue and a barely there touch of his teeth to Charles’ cock. The empty threat of pain that will never be fulfilled. He wonders if they are jealous, hopes they are.
“Max, Max.”
Max is not a religious man, but he does love to worship at the altar of Charles, so maybe he is not that different from the Italian men to begin with. Charles pants his name and Max thinks it is probably the closest he will get to heaven.
Through his lashes, he glances up at Charles, reverence and adoration written across his features. Charles’ hips stutter off the mattress, his own gaze heavy and hazy when he looks down at Max with open love. Max wants to drown in him. The taste of him, the scent of him, wants to choke himself on the length of Charles’ cock until there is nothing left.
“Unh, I’m-,” Charles cries, before the words get stuck in his throat and he’s gasping out another high whine. His head falls back to expose the long column of his neck. Max is going to leave marks there later, plot out a course to Charles’ mouth simply because he can.
He’s close.
Max pulls off just enough to lick spit and precum from Charles’ slit before sucking back down and letting Charles thrust up into the warmth of his mouth. There is familiarity to it, like Charles is used to making a space for himself in Max’s throat.
He keeps one hand on Charles’ waist, the other splayed across the solid expanse of his abdomen so he can feel when Charles tenses. Charles’ skin is warm, sun-kissed tan against his palm, hot with the built-up need to release.
Max presses against his stomach, hollows out his cheeks, and makes a choked noise just so Charles will feel the hum of it. It sends him over the edge with a cry and Max’s name being gasped to the ceiling like a prayer. The hand in Max’s hair tightens to a fist, holds him down until the warm bitter taste of come stops hitting the back of his throat and Charles’ cock stops twitching in his mouth.
He does press his teeth there then, lightly, just to hear the hiss of oversensitivity from Charles’ lips.
When Charles falls back against the bed, he takes the sharp point of his nails against Max’s scalp with him. Max pulls off his softening dick and a bead of spit follows him. Charles watches through his lashes, until the string of saliva breaks, his lips already curling into a contented smile.
He reaches, lazy hand grabbing at the air, long fingers curling in the empty rays of dusty sunlight, and Max goes willingly.
“A nice surprise, then?” Charles mummers against his temple when they’re curled up together on the mattress. Charles is already running a teasing finger along the waistband of Max’s too tight jeans, dipping just below the denim with a promise.
Max hums, nods, swallows so he can taste Charles at the back of his throat.
“You should be naked in my bed more often, all the time maybe.”
Charles pinches the exposed skin at his hipbone and Max hisses.
“Our bed.”
Max turns his head, angles forward until he can kiss Charles with all the softness and vulnerability he can muster. He feels Charles smile against him.
“Our bed.”
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bloodynereid · 3 months
Text
Zodiac Suite
pairing: robert 'rosie' rosenthal x fem! reader
tw: mentions of war, alcohol drinking, mentions of smoking, a whole lot of fluff
description: when rosie finds someone who loves jazz just as much as him.
a/n: ok so this was a complete and utter self indulgent fic because i am obsessed with mary lou williams and im now headcanoning the fact that rosie also loves her. SO some random little research details that i found really cool: mary lou williams first performed 'zodiac suite' in 1945, the café society was a real place from 1938-48 and it was located in new york, mary lou williams used to perform a lot there (there's a whole lot of pictures online if anyone's interested) AND a little tidbit i found about real life rosie is that he went back to europe to prosecute the nazis after the war! isn't he really cool??? oh and this is all based off the tv show character, not the actual person. and i would recommend listening to the album (it's free on spotify + youtube) while reading if you can.
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Rosie felt right at home at the busy night club, the smoke from many lit cigarettes and the scotch rushing through his veins combined with the dulcet tones of jazz almost made him forget that he had been at war just a few months ago.
Settling back into civilian life hadn’t been the easiest but times like these made him feel like he was okay again. Café Society was a place he used to go to quite a lot before the war, just to take in the ambience and have a stiff drink. Now it had become his refuge once again, tonight one of his favorite pianists was performing.
Mary Lou Williams was an absolute genius and her work didn’t just sound good, it sounded great. She was in the middle of performing her Zodiac Suite, one of the things that made Rosie feel like he had done his job right, because if music, art, could continue undisturbed by those Nazi bastards then it was all worth it.
“God, she’s incredible isn’t she?” A voice from next to brought him out of his reverie, making Rosie turn to the sound of that beautiful voice. A woman was standing next to him with a dazed smile on her face, she looked completely entranced in the music. Rosie was sure he had been mirroring her expression exactly just a few moments ago.
“She really is.” Rosie said, his attention now completely on you. The sound of his voice had you jumping and turning to look at him, it was now obvious you hadn’t meant to say that outloud as you looked a little scandalized. 
“Oh shit, I’m sorry for disturbing you, sometimes I get too lost in the music and… well I seem to lose control of my mouth.” You utter the last phrase with a slightly nervous laugh and a few stuttered words but Rosie already felt like he was entranced with you.
“Don’t worry about it, ma’am. It happens to me as well on occasion.”
“Jesus, please don’t call me ma’am. Makes me sound like my mother.” You seemed to have overcome the earlier shyness, which made Rosie’s mouth twitch into an even wider smile.
“Well now I think I should be the one apologizing, sweetheart.”
“I forgive you… but only if you tell me your name.”
“That one is just too easy, Rosie Rosenthal, at your service.”
“Rosie?”
“The air force has a way with nicknames. Now I think I’m owed a name as well?” You smiled and quickly said your name before taking a sip of the drink in your hand. A gin and tonic by the looks of it.
“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”
“Are all pilots such flatterers?”
“Only the best ones.” You hummed back in mock suspicion which had Rosie smiling so hard he probably looked like a mad man. The sounds of piano seemed to seep into the comfortable silence and you turned back to the stage, Rosie felt a wave of regret rush over him until he noticed you were moving closer to him so the fabric of your clothes brushed against his.
Rosie moved the glass from his left hand to his right and also turned back to look at the stage, but not before leaning closer to you too. Letting his hand carefully trail along the length of your arm.
A smile crept up on your face and you once again scooted closer to him. You both kept up this little game as you listened to the entracing jazz music, stealing little glances at each other but never meeting each other’s eyes. It was as if you were both encased in your own little bubble.
When the set finished and everyone started applauding and cheering, you finally met Rosie’s eyes. He looked at you with admiration as you laughed and clapped.
“She really is incredible, isn’t she?” He asked, echoing your first words back to you once the din had died down.
“She really is.” You responded before taking a step forward and placing a quick peck on his cheek and uttering a quick goodbye before disappearing into the crowd.
Rosie returned to Café Society the next night, hoping to get a glimpse of you in the same crowd you had vanished into the night before. And he wasn’t disappointed when he saw you sitting at one of the tables at the edge of the room. Two drinks sat in front of you, a scotch and a gin and tonic. Rosie felt a buzz of electricity run through his body when he realized that you had been waiting for him. He saw as you turned your head towards him and a smile blossomed on your face.
“Rosie! I saved you a seat!”
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It was a quiet night, at least as quiet as it can be in a big city. Rosie had just gotten back from Europe and he felt at ease once again. As he always did when he was around you.
Your legs were intertwined with his on the red couch you had gone hunting for in one of the little out of the way shops that Brooklyn had. You each had a book in hand and the sounds of a familiar jazz album suddenly crackled onto the radio. Your heads snapped up when you realized that Mary Lou Williams’ Cancer was playing.
“Rosie…”
“Yes, darling?”
“It’s our album.” Rosie looked down at you from where you were lying on his lap. A giddy smile was on your face and he echoed back that smile right back at you.
“It sure is.”
“I’m rather glad I met you.”
“I’m rather glad I fell in love with you, sweetheart.” Rosie answered with a note of adoration in his voice, looking at you as if you hung the very stars in the sky.
“I sure hope you are, because I love you more.”
“Oh I don’t think so.” Rosie deposited his book on the arm of the sofa before assaulting you with tickles, making your laugh ring out into the night. A sound that perfectly complemented the jazz that was still filtering out of the radio.
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also... if anyone by any chance finds a vinyl copy of Zodiac Suite anywhere pls lmk. ive been scouring the internet for the past few months and have found nothing. hope you enjoyed and pls lmk your thoughts or asks, i don't bite!!
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nobody-nexus · 6 months
Text
Ragapom HCs I Have
(WARNING: There's a LOT of headcanons)
-Transfem Lesbian Pomni (Is On The Spectrum)
-Cisgender Bisexual Ragatha (Has ADHD)
-Pomni has a cat tail (This is to give other hcs context)
-Pomni loves hearing Ragatha play the cello
-Ragatha will always ask if it's okay if she can touch Pomni or not, but if they're in immediate danger there's no time to ask (she will ask if Pomni's okay and apologize AFTER the danger has passed)
-Pomni learned how to sew just to help out Ragatha (She's not great at it, but it's better than nothing)
-They both learned each other's favorite smells and they've asked for candles of that scent just to sit in their rooms and take it in
-Pomni's not the BIGGEST fan of her body but Ragatha makes sure she feels valid (if you misgender her, you die. There's no getting pass it)
-Ragatha hides her love of horses because she's embarrassed by it, but Pomni actually really like animals
-Pomni makes various animal noises when expressing emotions, mainly cat or even dog like noises- and Ragatha's memorized all of them
-Blanket cuddles ALL THE TIME- even if Pomni's okay with touch. Ragatha being one giant comforter for Pomni always makes her SO HAPPY
-Pomni has bells on her tail, which although was Caine's idea, it DID make it easier for Ragatha to know if Pomni's sneaking away for a late-night snack or not
-Pomni has a BIG love for dresses. Ragatha once made a dress for Pomni, who wears it every time they go on a date
-Jax was the first to find out about them dating by barging into their room while they were making out. Caine was the last to find out, but still thinks they're "gal pals"
-Whenever Ragatha's having a bad day, Pomni just likes to talk. Since she's not always up for physical comfort, she knows her voice soothes Ragatha
-Pomni swears a lot whilst Ragatha hardly does so
-Ragatha makes Pomni flustered CONSTANTLY, and she never even means to
-Pomni's stamina is nonexistent while Ragatha can run for hours without realizing it
-Ragatha can pick up Pomni like she's nothing
-Pomni is awful at coming up with cute nicknames for Ragatha, but Ragatha has a bunch. Her favorite one is 'sweetheart' for Pomni
-If the jester's feeling very protective, she'll bite Ragatha to show bite marks, showing that no one touches Ragatha but her (And the doll's beyond embarrassed about it)
-Pomni's flirting sucks, but Ragatha's reaction is THE most 30s thing you could imagine. Hands on sides of face, shaking her head a little, "Oh Pomni, QUIT IT! You're gonna make me blush!", blushing hard, giggling along the way
-If Pomni gets flustered enough, she gets a nosebleed like a cartoon character! Her blood is black in color
-Ragatha lets Pomni help in the kitchen by grabbing ingredients for her. That's about it
-Ragatha was shocked hearing Pomni talk in Spanish and Russian for the first times (AN: YES, I still think Pomni's Russian and Hispanic)
-When they kiss, it's VERY obvious. Ragatha wears red lipstick, and it gets all over Pomni's face, making her all red and flustered, but she loves it every time it happens
-No one has told Pomni her eyes turn into hearts when she's infatuated yet. Not even Jax (Mainly cause Ragatha won't ALLOW him to do so)
-Pomni thinks Ragatha looks hot holding knives.... Ragatha's a little bit of a klutz with knives in reality
-Unlike Ragatha, Pomni actually likes bugs. She usually handles centipedes if any are around
-Ragatha has a big sweet tooth which is why she bakes. Although it has lead to Ragatha accidentally getting high because Zooble made pot brownies... Multiple times
-Pomni is easy to anger whilst Ragatha has a long fuse, but can be easily bothered
-If Pomni gets too stressed out, her teeth get shark like. She can crush a damn BONE with them, and Ragatha helps out with those said bones (don't ask where she gets them from)
-Pomni likes playing horror games whilst Ragatha likes calmer games
-Ragatha loves FNaF and will ramble about it to Pomni
-Pomni likes to draw! Ragatha loves ALL the drawings she does
-They watch Disney movies in bed together :D
-Most of their dates get ruined because of Jax or Caine (Sometimes Bubble)
-Ragatha gets oddly competitive in multiplayer games, thus why they don't play many multiplayer games together
-Slow dancing is Ragatha's favorite romantic thing to do with Pomni
-They usually kiss when both are laying down because the height difference hurts Ragathas back hurt when they kiss whilst standing
-Pomni HATES being wet with her clothes on. Pomni has to be carried by the scruff of her outfit like a cat because she just COMPLETELY shuts down due to overstimulation of the wet clothes against her skin
-Ragatha hates her hands, but Pomni finds them interesting, and she likes to watch Ragatha use her hands for various things JUST to see how they work
-Caine almost gave them a child by overhearing something they said wrong, but thankfully the two were quick enough to stop him
WOW that's a LOT of hcs. And maybe I have more. Hope you like them!
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cup1dt3a · 1 year
Note
hi, if you dont mind me requesting, how about a wally darling x gn reader where they are the villain of the show, but like,, unintentionally. they are vv clumsy and knock into shelves at howdys, trip eddie on his mail route, ruin julies chalk games, etc. and every time they feel horrible, but run away because they are scared of confrontation. so one day they knock over all of wallys paints while hes stepped away, and when he goes to their house to give them a piece of his mind, he finds them crying and ranting to their cat about how bad they feel but how scared they are to apologize (sorry if its too long!! ive had this idea in my head all day lol)
A poor soul who is mistaken for the villain being a victim to their own clumsiness. I love it! Hope you’re having a good day or that it gets better! Also you’re fine I love it when I get descriptive requests! ⚠️⚠️warning: Angst
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“ Oh no! No no no!” You gasped panicking over the now kicked over bucket of paints.
All you wanted to do was take a closer look at Wally’s newest artwork on the large canvas. But no you just had to accidentally step into one of the paint cans. As you tried to get your leg out of it you had only made things worse. Sloshing paint everywhere, knocking down more cans, tubes, and almost the canvas. But you had managed to save in it your colossal pile of mistakes. As you finally got your foot out after jerking it out the heavy can you had noticed a small smudge of red paint. Your heart beat quickened. You ruined it! You ruined all of Wally’s hard work, hours, seconds, and passion. You just ruined it!
Why are you like this? Well that’s obvious. You’re the town screw up. The pushover who always ruins everything. You sometimes avoid going anywhere for months because you’re too scared to ruin something else. For instance one time when you were just looking the ingredients you needed to bake a cake as an apology to Julie for accidentally giving her poisonous flowers. They had all of her favorite colors , but turns out hot pink can literally burn your eyes. You had knocked down two shelves after hitting your head on them. You didn’t know what to do or how to handle all the eyes on you so you ran. Just like with Julie after giving her the flowers you ran. Just like with Frank when you accidentally tore half a page in one of his books. Just like with everyone else you always ran away.
Just like right now as you ran away from an enraged Wally who had just came out of home. Frozen in shock taken back by his usual cheeky smile now gone and replaced with an annoyed look. So you rushed to your only sanctuary as always your house.
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You apologized as you ran back to your own house. You panted slamming the door as you knees curled into the floor of your home. You just wanted to look at someone’s painting and yet instead of being able to admire their work you ruined it just like every thing else. All except for one soul in this name uttered your name with a scowl. Well if they could and it was your pet cat Mr.Wiggles. He was an adorable spynx cat who you one day found out all alone in the rain in a battered up box. His red eyes may have made him look scary but you find them enduring from how much love he always showed once you were in the room. On days when you let him wander around with you to most he would look like your evil sidekick ,but to you he looked like a little angle just wanting to make friends. It’s almost like you were both on the same boat of being the outcasts of the group.
You sat on the cold floors as Mr. Wiggles came to your aid at the hurried slam of your front door. Meowing attentively as if he was trying to ask what was the matter. Seeing as you were once again crying once home. Curling beside you as he tried to comfort you.
“ Thanks buddy, but I don’t think we’ll be welcome here anymore.” You sniffled trying to hold back the rest of your tears.
“ I’m fine I just…screwed up…again!” Your voice cracked as the tears poured down once again while you trembled from each sob.
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This was outrageous! How and why do you always keep on doing this!? Tube after tube of his new paints were ruined. Even his brand new canvases he laid out behind his latest work. Everything ruined and covered in the new paints. Were you just trying to make everyone feel bad? Every time you came out of your lair you always ruined something. For instance with Julie you made her sick for a week with flower pox! You had tripped Eddie while he was out on his daily run to Franks house. Burnt Poppy’s cookies when she asked you to watch over them. Ripped a book of Franks favorite book sure it was Frank, but even he wouldn’t do that to that to him. You had made a huge hole in Sally’s now broken stage. You knocked down two displays in Howdy’s store and didn’t even try to help. The worst one was with your evil little cat. He had pounced onto Barnaby’s head.
And now you decided to ruin his work. That was the last straw. Chance after chance was given to you, but now it seems like you’re just testing your luck.
“ How does someone even manage to achieve all this in under 5 minutes!?” He frustrates at the ruined paints.
His cavas had a small smudge of red paint on it thankfully. Everything except his painting was mainly ruined. But just why do you do this? The first few times when you first came here everyone brushed it off as small accidents, but it was just a constant cycle of ruining things. So he had no choice, but to try and confront you. To see just why you kept doing this. And to give you a piece of his mind once and for all.
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As he greeted a few of his neighbors while he stomped over to your own home he eventually came to the dark and gloomy home of yours. Already giving him chills down his spine as he was about to knock on the door. But he soon had heard sobbing and continuous meows. Concerned he looked around to see where they were coming from and noticed one of your darkly colored windows opened still. He sneaked around the corner peeking through the cracked window.
“ I know I know! It’s just that whenever I make a mistake and try to help I just can’t stand trying to talk to anyone.” You cried.
“ I just want to be friends and make up for my mistakes, but every time I try I make a new one! I even ruined Wally’s beautiful painting and got Julie sick! I’m just a horrible person aren’t I?” You ranted to Mr. Wiggles.
“ It’s just like every other neighborhood I’ve gone to! Soon enough they’ll all start hating me and want me gone again.” You cried now uncontrollably sobbing.
He then felt pity for you as you cried out to your cat now holding him close. Just as he was about to try and comfort you he soon tripped over a stray thick vine in your almost dead garden.
“ Wha..What was that!?” You gasped startled as you slowly got up hurriedly seeing who had just yelped outside your open window.
“ Hello Neighbor!” Wally popped up from the outside of your window startling you.
“ H-Hi…I swear I didn’t mean to knock over your paints! I just…I swear it was an accident!” You sniffled.
“ I know. I didn’t mean to ease drop, but I heard everything you said. But I just wanted to say sorry to you. ” He chuckled trying to lighten up the mood even as your glazed eyes still threatened to draw tears again while you used to window as a fence between the two of you.
You shyed away from his gaze as you croaked out “ Why… I’ve done nothing, but ruin everything since I got here?”
“ Well we haven’t been the best of neighbors to you. I don’t even think I’ve even tried to get to know you.” He said as you rubbed your eyes trying not to cry again.
“So how about we give this another shot?” He asked extending his hand out for you with a comforting smile.
“ I’d like that a lot… Neighbor.” You smiled getting up from the barrier you of your window taking his hand.
Maybe things will be different this time.
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Thank you all so much for reading this all the way here! Hope you’re all doing well or that it gets better!
Sincerely-Cup1dT3A 💌
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jeneseoquoi · 1 year
Text
nct 127 | '95 line + bad days
(note: johnny & yuta went to support taeyong’s shalala mucore prerecording so i had to take the moment to write a little something about my favorite trio. hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! if you enjoyed it, tell me in the tags/comments/ask box. and if you want me to write it for any of the other members, let me know and i'll try my best to get it done! a little long so most of it is under the cut.)
johnny: "are you okay?" you questioned, cornering the tall man in the kitchen.
johnny had barely spoken to you when you got home from work which was odd. it was even more odd when he spent the past fifteen minutes slamming any and every drawer & cabinet door in the apartment.
"i'm fine." he says, grabbing a random pot from the cabinet and pushing past you.
"are you suuuuure?" you ask as he opens and slams yet another drawer. "you seem a litt-"
"i said i'm fine!" he cut you off sharply causing you to furrow your brows at his obvious passive aggressiveness and tone of his voice.
"okay look, i know you well enough to tell that you're not fine. i get if you don't want to talk about it right now, but you could just say that instead of slamming around everything in our house and raising your voice at me."
he stayed silent, opting to gaze at the floor to avoid your glare.
"i'll be in our bedroom if and when you're ready to talk." you say, pushing past him toward the hallway.
it's less than an hour before you hear a faint set of knocks, followed by the bedroom door creaking open. you look up from your position on the bed to see your sheepish looking man. closing the book in front of you to acknowledge his presence, you wait for him to speak first.
"i'm sorry." he pouts, "i had a shitty day at work, but i shouldn't have taken it out on you." you nod accepting his apology before opening your arms to him.
"come here. you wanna tell me what happened?" he nods, making his over to the bed and settling into your arms. he tells you about his day, snuggling in closer as you thread your fingers through his hair.
"thank you for listening babe. i really needed this."
"of course baby," you cup his cheeks, "i'm always here for you no matter what."
he smiles, leaning up toward you. "i love you."
you smile back at him, before pressing your lips to his.
"i love you."
taeyong: "tae?" you called, slowly opening the door to the bedroom you share. he doesn't answer, but the blanket on your guys' bed clearly outlines his frame under it. making your way over, you carefully pull back the blanket to see your boyfriend face first into his pillow.
"is everything okay love?" you gently nudge him, taking a seat on the bedside. he finally turns to face you, revealing his puffy, red eyes. a clear sign he's been crying.
"oh my god! taeyong! what happened?!" he shakes his head, letting you know he doesn't want to talk about it, but you know it's weighing heavy on his heart by the sheer sadness in his eyes.
you take the moment to hold your hand out to him which he hesitantly takes. "come on." you say as he allows you to drag him out of the bed, and into the bathroom.
you turn on the shower, undressing before stepping in, and he follows suit. you face him, watching as the water cascades down his shoulders and you know he's trying so hard to keep the tears at bay.
"it's okay. you can cry in here and nobody will know. not even me."
as if your words broke the dam, tears start to spill from his eyes as the sobs rack through his body. you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug as he nuzzles his face into your neck.
it's a while before taeyong finally settles into your embrace, his sobs turning to quiet sniffles. he buries his face further into your neck as if to muffle his next words, but you hear it clearly.
"thank you."
yuta: you know he had a bad day. he'd practically said as much when he got home. still, he was doing his best to keep up a happy persona.
tonight was your guys' monthly date night and you know how much yuta (and you) look forward to spending the much needed time together. see, even though you guys finally live together, it's not often the both of you get to do something special with each other due to his pretty strict, busy schedule. that's why early on in your relationship, you made a pact that no matter what, unless he was away on tour, you guys would have at least one night a month dedicated to a special date night.
these nights mean the most to yuta, so you could understand how he would be frustrated that of all days for him to have a bad one, it had to be on day night. yet, even though it was evident to you in his mannerisms and eyes, he refused to let on that he was even a tiny bit upset. which, to be honest, was making you feel a little worse. you never want your partner to suppress his feelings for your sake.
throughout dinner you tried to subtly ask him about his day or how he was feeling, but knowing your tactics, he brushed them off or just plainly changed the subject.
dinner and dessert went by with no luck of getting yuta to open up, and before you knew it, you guys were walking out of the restaurant and toward his car to make the journey home.
he opened the passenger door for you, before shutting it and making his way around to get into the driver's side seat.
"yuta." you called. he hummed in response, letting you know that he was listening. "can you look at me?"
he turned his head to face you, confusion present on his face. you reached over the center console to lace your fingers with his and continued.
"i know you had a bad day. and i know you think by hiding it, you're saving our date night, but i want you to know that you never have to pretend you're okay with me. i appreciate you trying your best to be happy for tonight, but i'd much rather you stay true to how you're really feeling, even if it's date night."
he sighs deeply, squeezing your hand, then bringing it up to his lips.
"you're right. i shouldn't and won't hide from you. i promise to tell you all about it on our way home."
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olsenmyolsen · 7 months
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You're Not Alone
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master list
dark master list
Post Age of Ultron (WandaNat)
Summary: Wanda discovers a secret about The Black Widow after a mission.
Word Count: 4.5K
Content: Talks of Hydra, The Red Room, Feelings, Tramua and flashbacks.
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Wanda was still learning a lot since moving to America and becoming an Avenger.
Much to the dismay of Clint Barton, she discovered how much more trashy American reality TV is compared to other countries. Choosing to watch two toxic people argue while shitfacrd was a late-night pleasure for Wanda.
She also found her niche of new sitcoms to enjoy. Ones like The Office and Parks and Rec. She tried Always Sunny, but Wanda COULD NOT get into it. That disappointed Maria Hill, who liked that one. But not as much as How I Met Your Mother.
Regardless, Malcom in the Middle was a new favorite for Wanda Maximoff.
She also found new oddities about her teammates. Like Sams love of naming his little gadgets. Steve's late-night ballroom dancing practices. Vision curiosity over his humanoid teeth and Thor's love of all things Pop-Tarts and sugary sweets before heading off-world.
Lastly, Wanda most recently discovered something about Natasha Romanoff that almost no one knew.
Natasha Romanoff had a tattoo.
Wanda couldn't believe it when she saw it. But then again, Wanda was never supposed to see it. She only happened to see it because a mission went wonky...
Since joining the team, Wanda had one goal in mind aside from the obvious for the greater good hero crap. Wanda wanted to eliminate Hydra and their bases.
Joining Hydra was a mistake. It gave her, her powers but at the cost of her young adult years. At the expense of her sanity. She lost herself and then her brother.
Now, she was slowly discovering who Wanda was. Who Wanda Maximoff wanted to be. One of the first things on that list was to take down Hydra.
So that's what led Steve, Sam, Wanda, and Natasha in route to the snowy mountains of France. It wasn't the first mission Wanda was cleared to go on. But it was the first time she was on with Natasha Romanoff.
The Black Widow.
To say Natasha intimidated the Sokovain would be an understatement. Wanda was frightened of Natasha. Even if Wanda could clearly use her powers to her advantage, she didn't want to do that anymore.
At least not to her teammates and friends.
Besides, the pair had barely spoken since the fall of Wanda's home country, but yet Natasha's red jacket still hung in Wanda's closet.
They shared the same floor and went to movie nights at the same time, but aside from a look over and a tight-lipped smile. Natasha never gave Wanda anything more.
Not even when Wanda gave everyone on the team a handwritten apology for her actions in the rise and fall of Ultron.
She never received anything back from Natasha.
And yet.
Natasha chose to sit next to Wanda on the flight to France.
Wanda smiled as the redhead looked over the younger woman. Wanda did the same as her eyes traveled over Natasha's face. She couldn't deny how beautiful the Widow was. Her green eyes and striking features were hard to look away from. But that's what benefitted Natasha when she was in the Red Room. Use any and everything to your advantage.
Natasha wasn't doing that now.
She was just being herself. She wanted to talk to Wanda.
So when she saw Wanda's eyes leave her lips and get visibly nervous, Natasha decided to speak up.
"Hi." She started. Simple enough.
"Hi." Wanda softly spoke back.
Natasha took a second before speaking.
"I want you to know that I know this isn't your first mission. But it's your first one with me since..." Wanda nodded as Natasha steadied herself. "I just want you to know that you can count on me to have your back." Wanda smiled at that. "I know you'll have mine." Natasha ended that with a reassuring nod and a look away before looking back when the witch spoke up.
"Thank you, Natasha."
"Of course."
With that, Natasha cleared her throat and started looking at her widow bites. Double-checking them. Even though they had been thoroughly looked over by the Widow herself before the team even left the compound.
Wanda didn't know what to say anyways. Everything that had just happened was shocking to her.
The most shocking part might have been when Natasha didn't leave when she got done with her gadgets; instead, she remained sat in her seat next to Wanda.
Wanda racked her brain, thinking of anything else to say, but nothing came out when she opened her mouth.
But finally, when she was about push the words "have you ever seen the Dick Van Dyke show?" through her lips, Steve called the team up to go over the mission one last time.
The mission? Infiltrate the located Hydra Base. Save prisoners, if any. Capture the goons inside and try not to kill anyone. However, if it comes to it, do what you have to.
Steve made a better speech, but you get the jist.
When the wheels touched down, the group decided to split off. Through the coms, Wanda could hear Steve and Sam finding guys left and right. But that wasn't the case for her and Natasha.
Their side of the base was empty. Cells and rooms had been cleared out, long left abandoned. Dust and dirt had gathered. Flashbacks came to the front of Wanda's mind, but she pushed down the screaming and the trauma that came with it just in time for Natasha's thoughts to be loud.
Begging for Wanda to read them.
The Black Widow tried to focus on the mission, but for the last couple of months, Natasha had been silently struggling.
After mouthing off to Capitol Hill, Natasha came to Avengers Tower under Fury's orders. She stayed and made herself useful to the cause at hand, however, before and in between Ultron happening. Natasha had thought she found solace in someone after her and Maria split. But even after Natasha begged for them to go with her. It wouldn't work.
Nothing Natasha did worked.
So when a little witch made Natasha relive her nightmares, it didn't anger Natasha. It made her feel weak and small, like she deserved it.
So all this time when, Wanda felt like Natasha wasn't making an effort or ignoring her. Wanda technically wasn't wrong. It, however, wasn't because Natasha hated Wanda she was just dealing with her own shit.
"Natasha?" Wanda whispered when she noticed that the Widow wasn't walking next to her anymore. Instead, she was severely feet back looking into a cell.
Wanda walked back and saw what Natasha was staring at. A stuffed pink bear laid face down in the middle room. Covered in dirt and dried blood.
Wanda didn't say anything. She and Natasha had lived something similar. She just forced her eyes to pull away from the bear and look at Natasha, rubbing the left side of her ribs with her right hand, mumbling something to herself before remembering where she was, and what she was supposed to be doing. She cleared her throat and looked at Wanda.
"We should get moving."
Again, Natasha's thoughts were begging to be viewed, but Wanda ignored them and followed Natasha.
"Did you find it yet?" Sams voice came over coms. "We're almost at the drives now. If there's no one to save or take, prepare to evac in five." Natasha said as she and Wanda stopped before a room storing this base's secrets.
Wanda lit up the room with her magic before deeming it safe for Natasha to flick the switch on. "Is that new?" She asked when Wanda lowered her hands. "Steve, Vision, and I have been trying to come up with inventive ways to use my powers."
Natasha nodded as she put the thumb drive into the computer in the corner of the room.
"That's right," Natasha said. "I can see you lifting him from my window." That surprised Wanda. She had no idea Natasha had been watching them after team training ended. "You're doing good." Natasha offered a genuine smile to the Sokovian, who tried her best to hide the red on her cheeks.
Natasha noticed but didn't comment on it.
Instead, she turned to look at the files loading up on the monitor. Folders and folders full of information on this Hydra bases dealings.
What test they ran. Who they tested it on. What bodies were traded for and to whom.
It was all horrible.
Natasha's eyes watched each document and picture flick by her. The progress bar at the bottom of the screen was getting closer and closer to 100% when a picture of a young blonde girl flew by.
Natasha leaned forward.
No.. It couldn't be..
Wanda saw how Natasha's whole body language changed. She saw how her green eyes changed from focused to scared. Before Wanda could comment on it. A loud bang was heard from outside the door down the hall.
Instantly, Natasha rose to her feet, gun drawn. She looked over at Wanda with raised hands. Ready to fight. Natasha nodded to Wanda and then back to the computer and whispered. "Stay here. Make sure it gets to 100% and then take it with you to the quinjet. I'll be there."
Wanda felt like she should stop Natasha. Or that they should go together, but the words never left her mouth as Natasha rounded the doorframe, disappearing from sight.
As Wanda waited, Natasha quietly stalked her way to where the noise had came from. Her breathing was slow and calculated as she kept her gun in front of her. She listened for any voices or footsteps that might give away whoever was around. But no noise was made.
Natasha turned around and was about to head back when a woman wearing a grey Hydra outfit emerged from the shadows with a gun in their hand—firing two rounds at Natasha before they took off running.
Natasha used her quick reflexes to get up onto her feet and immediately started chasing after the person who just shot at her. "I got one running west," Natasha yelled in the coms. "Heading your way, Wanda."
Wanda's head shot up at learning that piece of information, and stood up from the computer to rush out the doorway. Without thinking about Wanda used her magic to stop the Hydra agent. Immobilizing their body, sending them crashing to the floor. The gun sliding away from their hand.
Natasha stopped next to the fallen body and bent down to turn the woman's body over. Natasha saw how the woman's eyes were red. Wanda had her under. "She's scared," Wanda spoke up for the woman.
That's why she ran. Natasha thought as she looked over the woman's blonde hair and at the features on that dawned her face.
Memories came to the front of her mind as her fingers itched to touch the side of her ribs again.
Natasha shook them away and swallowed before standing back up with a groan. The sharp pain rushed through her body as the adrenaline started coming down. Natasha winced and placed her hand on her side where the pain was coming from.
"You're bleeding."
Natasha looked into Wanda's concerned green eyes and didn't move as Wanda stepped closer to her. Walking right over the now incapacitated Hydra goon. Natasha wanted to take a step back away from Wanda but froze when Wanda's soft hands placed themselves on Natasha's body. Her hands gripped Natasha's hips as she bent down to take a closer look at the wound.
"It looks like the bullet just grazed you. Did you not feel it?" Wanda looked up at Natasha, who just shrugged. "I didn't even realize."
Wanda accepted the answer because she could start to see that pushing Natasha would push her away. So, instead, Wanda nodded to herself and raised her hand to Natasha's wound.
"I've been working on something.. Do you trust me?" Wanda asked the one person whom most people could never see Natasha trusting. "Yes," Natasha said without hesitation. Wanda hid a blush at that before continuing.
She raised her hand higher and brought it closer to Natasha's bleeding side. "It won't hurt."
Natasha watched as red wisps extended themselves from Wanda's hand and landed on the marking of the bullet. Before her eyes, Natasha watched as Wanda started patching the wound as if she were stitching her body. "Oh my.. Wanda..." Natasha couldn't believe it, and yet her wound was now sown shut with a red glow around it.
Wanda looked at what she did and smiled. She was proud of herself. So when she looked up, and saw Natasha smiling back down. Wanda smiled brighter. "That's amazing," Natasha said as Wanda stood up. Her hands were still on the Widow's body. "Thank you!" Natasha looked at Wanda with newfound respect and admiration.
And before she knew it, Natasha's eyes traveled from Wanda's green eyes to her pink lips. She started scanning every inch of the Sokovain's face in a new way.
Wanda wasn't sure if what she was seeing was actually happening, so it was best not to comment on it. However, she did notice that slight fall from Natasha's lips when Wanda removed her hands from her.
"When we get back, you'll have to get it checked out. My magic won't hold it forever... At least not that I know of." Wanda chuckled at that last part, making Natasha crack a laugh for the first time in a long time.
The nice eye-darting moment between the two had to come to an end when the prisoner groaned from the floor. They were still unconscious, thanks to Wanda. But needing to be moved.
"I'll check the hard drive if you want to..." Natasha didn't need to say anymore as Wanda effortlessly lifted the prisoner with her powers. Natasha smiled at the easy use of her powers and subconsciously rubbed the side of her ribs above the area where she had been shot once again—an action Wanda had picked up on.
Perhaps it was a nervous habit of Natasha's?
Maybe a tic?
Wanda didn't know, but when she saw Natasha do it again, she sat back down in the chair in front of the monitor. The screen sitting on an image of an experiment being ran on a young kid.
The progress bar below sitting at 100%.
Wanda watched as Natasha's body tensed, followed by her thoughts becoming louder and louder.
_
The flight went by quicker than Wanda thought it would.
She wanted to sit and talk with Natasha but couldn't when Natasha landed herself in the pilot seat. Wanda was sure she wouldn't have been if the Widow told the team about her getting shot, but Natasha didn't.
Instead, when Wanda and Natasha arrived with the unconscious Hydra goon, Steve and Sam had no idea that Natasha was in a fight. Something about the coms failing right after the download started. Steve asked Natasha if she was fine, and Wanda watched her teammate lie and put on a brave face.
So Natasha flew the team back.
When they landed, Sam went to start a report on the mission while Wanda went with Steve to take the prisoner to holding. Natasha went to the medical unit to get her wound looked over.
At least, that's what Wanda thought.
To no surprise but Wandas, Natasha headed straight to her room. She locked the door and went to her bathroom. She opened a cabinet and pulled out her own med kit. She rested it on the counter as her nerves began to calm down. The pain worked its way through her soft and battered body as her suit was slowly peeled off, hitting the floor.
There, Natasha stood in her private bathroom, scanning over her semi-naked body. What's been done to it by others. What's been done is by her own hands. Scars and wounds healed but still leave a mark.
She brings her fingers up over her newest wound and lets the bit of undried blood drip onto her middle finger before she rubs it into her skin.
The red staining her.
Natasha brings her face up from her fingers to look back at the mirror. Natasha realizes just how close the bullet was. Had it been appropriately aimed and higher, it would've gone right through the middle of Natasha's first and only tattoo.
On the side of Natasha's ribs were two incredibly detailed fireflies. One was slightly bigger than the other.
"Look, forest stars!"
"Yeah! You know what? Those are actually part of the Lampyridae family. And the glow that you see, that comes from a chemical reaction called... bioluminescence... Come on time for dinner!"
"I want Mac and Cheese."
"Natasha..?"
Natasha, startled, jumped back and away from the shut bathroom door. Covering herself before, she immediately closed her eyes and got upset at her actions once she realized it was Wanda on the other side.
Had she not heard the witch enter her room?
"I was calling your name over and over, but you didn't hear me." The witch answered. "I came to check on you. I went to the medical wing and... and you never made it. So I knocked on your door before letting... myself.. in..." Wanda tried to laugh to cover the light criminal work she had done. Even then, she opened and closed her mouth, but before Natasha could do anything, Wanda asked: "Are you okay? Do you need help?"
Natasha stood with her bodysuit held in her right hand. A part of her was yelling at her to put it on and send Wanda away. Fix yourself up alone and get back to training. But there was the other half. The one who was exhausted and hurt. The one who needed help.
That voice won out.
"Wa-Wanda..." Natasha's voice was cracked before she cleared it. "Yes?" Wanda answered with a voice of surprise and concern. But then Natasha didn't speak. Instead, there was a click of the door as Natasha removed her hand from the lock. "Come in.." She quietly called out to the Sokovian, who now wore a set of grey sweats, gingerly placed her hand on the knob before turning it slowly, opening the door.
"Natasha..." Wanda hitched her breath as her eyes became focused on the woman standing before her. Only wearing a black sports bra and black shorts. Riddled with scars and bruising. A bullet wound below a black and white marking that Natashas was hiding with her hand.
Wanda took her gaze off Natasha's body and found her eyes. Taking a step forward, Natasha didn't look away from the younger woman. She didn't move. She kept her grip on her suit and waited. "Natasha?" Wanda spoke.
"Hmm?"
Wanda looked away from the Widow and picked up the Avengers-level first-aid kit. "Take a seat.." She gestured over to the edge of the counter. Natasha looked at the spot before nodding.
Cautious, she dropped the suit from her grip but kept her hand covering the tattoo.
Wanda caught onto it and wasn't sure what Natasha could possibly be hiding; after all, SHEILDS secrets had been public knowledge for the last year and a half. But Wanda wasn't going to bug her about. Right now, she just wanted to care for her teammate and friend.
So, as Wanda got closer to Natasha, Natasha sat straight up and lifted her arm up to give Wanda enough space to work. Wanda sent the older woman a flat smile and bent down slightly before starting to clean the grazed area of the bullet.
Natasha did her best not to wince or show much emotion as Wanda cleaned her up and tossed the bloodied pieces of tissues to the side. Wanda knew Natasha wouldn't, but still, she was in such close proximity to THE BLACK WIDOW, and yet she could tell something was wrong. "Natasha?" Wanda finally said when she went to stitch her up without using her powers.
"Yes?" Natasha brought her eyes to Wanda as her loud thoughts of a young blonde child slowed. "Are you okay?" Wanda asked the question that had been begging to be asked.
Natasha wasn't sure what it was, but she easily could've lied to Wanda. She could've nodded, put on a brave face, and shut down any remaining questions, but when the green eyes of the Sokovian looked up at her, she broke. She closed her eyes and squeezed them tight as tears threatened to spill.
Wanda quickly put down the medicinal supplies in her hand and placed her hands on the shoulders of the redhead before they moved down to Natasha's side. Her hand sitting inches above the still-covered tattoo. "Tas-Natasha?"
Natasha shook her head and used her one free hand to wipe at her face. A tear slipped past her mouth as she opened to speak. "I'm tired." She spoke through her rough throat. Wanda nodded. She knew. "So tired."
Wanda rubbed her hands up and down Natasha's side. It seemed like it was still a safe thing to do, considering Natasha hadn't stopped her, and they were both enjoying the touch of each other on their skin.
Wanda was going to let the silence linger. She didn't know what to say to help Natasha that the Widow didn't know, and she was focusing really hard not to read her thoughts. But luckily for Wanda, Natasha very quietly looked up and said: "I miss her."
Wanda saw the soft sadness in the eyes of her friend and felt hurt. She didn't like seeing Natasha like this. It didn't feel right, and someone this pretty should never be sad.
"Who?" Wanda asked, genuinely curious.
"Yelena. My sister."
Natasha saw the confused look on the witches face, but instead of elaborating, Natasha leaned closer to Wanda and lifted her hand off of her tattoo. "Here." She placed her hands on top of Wanda. Moving one just in front of her forehead and the other hand, she moved down the side of her body.
The feeling of their fingers resting on top of one another sent a warmth wave throughout each woman as Natasha finally placed Wanda's hand on the tattoo.
"I got this a year after my deflection to SHIELD."
Wanda rubbed her thumb over the larger firefly before tracing her fingers over the delicate linework. The action making Natasha smile. "Do you know where she is?" Wanda gingerly asked when she took her eyes off the piece of art.
"No."
"Do you wish you did?"
Natasha didn't waste another thought on a lie. She answered truthfully while looking into Wanda's eyes.
"Yes."
Wanda's eyes stayed on Natashas before dropping to her lips and back up. "Can.. I..?" Wanda asked, awaiting consent before earning a nod. With that, Wanda lowered her hand and began looking into Natasba's mind. Looking at what Natasha wanted her to see.
A young blonde child and a girl with dyed blue hair. The two are playing in a backyard near a swing set. The younger girl is laughing and having fun before she falls over.
"Yelena," Natasha repeated her name. "My sister." Wanda smiles at the memory and then raises her hand up and leaves Natasha's mind. "Before she was taken. She didn't know..." When she opens her eyes, Natasha is looking at her. "Thank you for showing me that." Wanda once again looks down at Natasha's watery smile—her lips.
Natasha nods and notices the look on Wanda's face. "Wanda.." Natasha starts as her hands move to Wanda's waist, tugging her closer to her sitting on the bathroom counter.
"We shouldn't..." Wanda already knows what the older woman is thinking, but Natasha wants this. She needs this. It's been a while since she's felt the care from someone else. The touch of another. She also has shared something with Wanda that no one else knows.
So, as she pulls Wanda closer, Wanda knows that they shouldn't, but she can't say no. The words fail to get past her throat. She wants to feel the lips of the other on her... So she leans into Natasha, and the moment between them is soft. Slow and careful. But the sparks fly.
Something happens.
Natasha's hand moves around to Wanda's lower back, pulling her closer, causing Wanda to fall more into her without a fight as their lips collide again and again.
A whimper makes Natasha smile as she bites and pulls the witches bottom lip between her teeth. "You sound so good for me," Natasha whispers, earning another moan. "Natasha..." Wanda tries to speak again but fails when Natasha's right hand begins pulling at Wanda's grey sweatpants. "Shhh.. It's okay.. I want this.." Natasha reassures Wanda to only earn a shake of the head. The younger woman is doing her best to tell Natasha that she's...
"Tasha.." Wanda moans when Natasha's hand brushes past her bare pussy. "Come on. Tell me you want this, Wanda..." Wanda gasps and moans when a finger touches her clit. "Tasha, please..." Natasha smirks and kisses the lips of the scarlet woman with passion.
"Please, what baby..." Wanda loves the kisses being planted by Natasha, but she has never done anything past this moment with someone. She's feeling lost, and the feeling of passion is morphing into nervousness. And she doesn't want to do this with Natasha when she knows and can feel the thoughts coming from Natasha.
Natasha is looking for an escape.
Wanda moans again in pleasure. "Please stop." She says, surprising Natasha. Immediately, Natasha pulls her hands out of Wanda's sweatpants, placing them on her sides taking her lips off of the Sokovian. Looking into her eyes with concern. "What- what's wrong?" Wanda bites her bottom lip before returning them to Natashas, still keeping her confused. "Wanda?" Natasha looks at her friend with soft eyes.
"I've never..." Wanda says, making Natasha feel guilty for pushing her. "Oh Wanda..." Natasha starts, but Wanda stops her again with a kiss, moving their bodies closer together. "Stop. I want to, but..." Wanda bites her lips again. "I don't want to be used." She takes a careful breath before saying: "You and I both know what that's like."
Natasha doesn't realize a tear has fallen from her face until Wanda drags a finger up her cheek. Wiping it away with tenderness. "I'm so-" "Don't." Wanda cups Natasha's chin. "It's okay." Natasha wants to yell at her that it's not, but all she does is collapse as Wanda runs her hand over the tattoo of a distant memory.
Wanda doesn't speak about what almost happened between them. Instead, she leaves Natasha on the bathroom counter as she brings her some clothes to rest in later tonight. She finishes wrapping the wound around Natasha before leading her out to her bed.
Both women are tired but don't let go of one another hand. Wanda smiles when Natasha asks her to stay.
They don't talk about what is new between them. But the two feel closer as Wanda keeps her hand on the tattoo, and with permission, she is allowed to relive the happiest memories from Natasha's childhood. A majority of them involving Yelena. Natasha thanked her as she laid in the Sokovian's arms.
In return, Wanda made her remember that she's not alone.
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dividers by @/benkeibear
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