#had this in the drafts for a bit.. decided to clean it up and post finally

[angelfevr]

[id: screenshot of a fic on ao3. the title is "like a prayer for which no words exist" by catnby. the summary is as follows:

"He speeds up. “Hell no. I don’t need it. Besides, I’d rather just–” “Watch at a distance?” “Stop reading my mind.” “It’s love, not bird watching.” “Love’s a strong word.” Aoi would liken it to a crush. Because that’s what this is, right? A schoolboy crush. Despite the juvenile phrasing, it’s more fitting than love or infatuation. They’re strangers, save for their history regarding participation in two death games, one by his own hand." end id].

todays fill for the @ficwip all ships week!! this time its 'everything is good and nothing hurts' ft. aoilight bc why not ^_^

read here!!

[pt: read here!!]

[phatm0th]

Reader catches Brahms touching himself. They bang!!

Hiii!! It has been a while since i wrote a full fanfic! I’ve been busy with college. I haven’t come across a freaky brahms fic in a while so i figured this would be the lucky post that made it outta the drafts. Anyways yeah, not my best work but im ovulating. What can you expect? This is just gratuitous smut. Sorry. I hope you like it anyway!

As always, reader is written as chubby but all can enjoy! ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64812139

MDNI! NSFW. 18+

You discovered Brahms all on your own. With your clothes and food from the fridge going missing and creepy bumps in the night and the undeniable, chilling feeling of being watched constantly you were able to put two and two together. You weren’t sure what to do at first but you surmised that his parents weren’t coming back and you were starting to like him and the financial stability so you stayed.

After months of living with him you like to think you made progress with him. He gained a bit of weight because you were cooking him meals fit for an adult man. He became softer, belly hairy with a layer of muscle underneath. He was better about his hygiene, too. He wore clean clothes and showered. His hair had grown a bit longer and it wasn’t greasy and tangled anymore. You convinced him to sleep in an actual bed in an actual bedroom rather than a raw mattress in the fucking walls. He willingly helped with household chores. You showed him some of your hobbies so that he had something to do while you were away or just busy.

Somehow, it worked. It was all so domestic.

One night, you were half asleep as you heard the bedroom door open. You felt a flash of panic, remembering the time before, when you weren’t aware of his existence. “Brahms?” you called, voice thick with sleep. “Can’t sleep,” he said in that small voice. You slowly sat up and patted the bed, inviting him in.

Within the next few minutes he lay beside you, soft snores muffled by his mask. He had never crossed that boundary before. There had been times when he fell asleep in the library while he watched you read, sure. But this was more intimate. You turned your back to Brahms, trying not to stare at his sleeping form.

It wasn’t that you didn’t find Brahms attractive. You did, especially after “fixing” him. There were just so many risks. What if he didn’t like women your size? What if he didn’t like women at all? What if he saw you as a maternal figure, despite you being close in age? If you decided to tell him how you felt, and it wasn’t reciprocated, what would happen? He would clam up. Likely kick you out, or go back into the walls.

You ignored your feelings for him as you did with every other crush and infatuation in your life, and tried to go back to sleep.

You woke up to a sliver of sunlight on your face. You were going to get up and adjust the curtains, planning to go back to sleep for another hour or two, but you found it hard to move. You looked down and saw his large hands wrapped around your soft tummy. You felt his slow, deep breaths against your neck and turned your head to see his peaceful face, sans mask, which you assumed he placed on the nightstand.

You didn’t mind this. You rolled over to face him so the sun wouldn’t be in your face, and went back to sleep.

You were stirred awake again, this time from the bed shaking, just barely. His voice was deep and shaky. You could tell he was trying his best to be quiet but he couldn’t help tiny moans and whines from escaping. His back was turned to you and you saw his hips slowly moving back and forth.

“Brahms?” His hips stilled. He became as quiet as a mouse. “Brahms I know what you were doing.” You felt a powerful throb in between your thick thighs, wondering if you caused him to feel that way.

“Please don’t be mad, I couldn’t help it!” he whined guiltily. “It’s fine Brahms, it’s natural.” You hoped it was because of you, but realistically it was probably just morning wood. You imagined his prudish parents made him ashamed of his body as he grew up. You wanted to reassure him, let him know he was safe with you.

After a few beats of silence he said, “You were just so pretty while you were sleeping.” Your pussy throbbed again. “Look at me Brahms.” He didn’t move. “You can put the mask back on if you need to, but I want you to look at me.” He put his porcelain mask back on and then sat up to face you, head hung in shame. You considered your next words carefully. “I uh, I thought you looked pretty while you slept too. I wanted to do what you were just doing.” He lifted his head and stared at you, his breath quickening. You wished you knew what he was thinking.

“Think you’re pretty all the time,” he said quietly.

Your eyes moved from his masked face to his crotch, where he was still rock hard. “You can touch me, Brahms.” His breath hitched. Tentatively, he placed his hand on your thigh, testing the waters. His fingers stroked across your flesh gently. You held your breath.

Before you knew what was happening you were on your back with him hovering above you, chest rising and falling heavily. His hand hovered above your large breast. “Hm?” he wordlessly asked for permission, too afraid to speak. “Yeah. Yes. Please,” you said.

His warm palm groped you over the fabric of your sleep shirt. He groaned as he watched the fat spill from around his hands. He could feel your nipple harden against him. “Want… I want…” he cut himself off with a shuddering breath. Brahms pulled his mask off and placed it back on the nightstand. “Kiss me, Brahms.” He obeyed, sighing and licking into your mouth.

You knew from the beginning that Brahms was a needy man. In those first few weeks, he would throw tantrums whenever you had to leave. He was clingy. This was something completely different, though. He touched and sniffed and licked every part of you he could reach as if you were going to disappear into thin air.

Brahms ground his sizable cock between your thighs as he buried his face in your neck. You were sure you both could cum like this, but you were needy too.

You said his name gently, trying to get his attention. He either didn’t hear you or didn’t care as he continued to rub himself over your clothed pussy. “Brahms!” you yanked his head back by his hair so you could look him in the eyes. He moaned, the desperation obvious on his face.

“I need more, okay?” He nodded and moved back, eyes fixated on the boxers you slept in. Tentatively, he rubbed you with his hand over the underwear, effectively holding the core of you. He watched a small wet spot form before he pulled the boxers off of you and dropped them to the floor.

“I’m most sensitive here, Brahms,” you grabbed his hand and led it to your swollen clit.

He swiped the bundle of nerves with his thumb, your hips jerking in response. He moved his hand a bit lower to collect some of your wetness. You expected him to rub it onto your clit but he instead brought the hand to his mouth, tasting you.

His breathing deepened as you watched a drop of precum bead at the head of his painfully hard cock through his pants. He grabbed both of your thighs and pushed them further apart, bringing his face closer to your cunt. “You taste so good,” he muttered.

Tentatively, he licked you from hole to clit, savoring the taste again.

He had no finesse, no technique, he didn’t even think to use his hands at all other than to hold your thighs open for him as he devoured you. What he lacked in experience he made up for in enthusiasm. He moaned and whimpered as he ate you out, and ground his cock down into the bed, desperate for some sort of friction. Without warning he moved his hands from your thighs to up under your fat ass, lifting your hips in the air so he could get even closer to your cunt.

He switched from licking into you to sucking on your clit, relishing in your shaky moans. He liked feeling like he was doing a good job.

All of a sudden it was too much, and you felt that familiar coil in your stomach. Your hands shot to his soft hair again and you said, breathless, “Brahms im gonna cum pleasedontstop.” He licked and sucked in every way he knew how, trying his best to get you there. Within seconds you were cumming on his face, pulling his hair just because you needed something to grab. He licked you into over-sensitivity, and didn’t stop until you pushed him away.

He did very well, one of these days you’d have his head between your legs for hours, showing him the best ways to please you.

He sat up on his knees, deciding for himself that he needed his pants off that very moment. His cock bounced as he roughly yanked them down and, Oh. You didn’t know what you were expecting. You caught a few glimpses of it under his pants just now but they didn’t do it justice. You weren’t even sure if it would all fit, especially since you were out practice. But by god, you would try.

You sat up too, but since he was still standing on his knees, your face met his chest. You coaxed hm to take his shirt off, admiring his stocky physique.

“May I touch you, Brahms?” He grabbed your hand and led it directly to the tip of his cock. You wanted to play with his tits, get him off slowly, run your nails up and down his torso, but you felt bad for how long he stayed denied. next time, you thought. Instead, you grabbed his hardness, feeling it throb in your hand. His hips made small, abortive thrusts as you slowly stroked him. You looked up at his face and saw his lips were pressed in a thin line. You could tell he was holding back from fully fucking your fist.

You decided that you both waited long enough, and laid on your back, opening your legs again for him. You pulled his cock towards you, edging him closer to your wet heat. “Please?” he begged, pushing his dick against you. You nodded, unwilling to wait any longer.

He held his cock and slowly guided it inside you. You felt the sting almost immediately. You placed a hand on his stomach, stilling him. He whined. my bratty boy, you thought. “Brahms, you’re very big. If you don’t go inside slowly, it will hurt.” He nodded obediently as he pushed inside, careful to not hurt you. The slow stretch was a bit more pleasurable than it was painful, and all you could think about was how you had never felt this full before.

After a few moments, Brahms bottomed out inside you. He swallowed, waiting on your okay to move. You stared up at his face, brows furrowed and lips pouting. You wondered how long you could keep him here inside you, not allowed to move. A very long time, you imagined.

“You can move now.” He sighed loudly with relief. You probably would’ve laughed if the air hadn’t been punched out of you as soon as he moved. It was gentle and slow, but impossibly deep. You clenched around him involuntarily, he yelped, startled at the sensation. “Oh, I’m sorry sweet boy, I didn’t mean to do that, I couldn’t help it.” You felt him pulse inside you as his breaths came it short, loud puffs. He thrusted his hips again, more powerful this time. It was your turn to yelp then, pleasantly surprised by his roughness.

At first, you thought that perhaps you needed some gentle treatment. It had been a while, after all, and he was the largest you’d ever taken. But something feral and eager in the back of your mind wormed its way to the forefront of your thoughts. You wanted it hard.

“Faster Brahms!” He made a choked off sound, excited at the prospect of getting to drill into you like he always wanted. Brahms followed your command immediately, shifting his position slightly so that he could move easier. The air was getting punched out of you with each thrust. The pudge of his stomach dragged deliciously across your sensitive skin.

“Good boy!” It just sort of slipped out. You hadn’t meant to say it. But the effects were almost immediate. “Hunh?” he moaned, confused and unbelievably turned on. His hips stilled as he stared at you, panting, eyes wild. He grabbed your thighs and pushed them up against your stomach, folding you in half. He leaned over you, impossibly close, both of your shaky breaths mingling with each other. He rubbed himself against your core for a bit. The sound of your slick mixing with his precum was obscene and maddening. Part of you just wanted him to do as he pleased, use your body as his very own fleshlight. But you were waiting for him to beg. At least this time.

“Please can I? I’ll be good,” he asked, voice shaky. What did that even mean in this situation? you wondered. Perhaps what he meant to say was “I’ll make you feel good?” That wasn’t what he said though. He said he’d be good. For you. How could you refuse something like that? You nodded wordlessly, lifting your hips incrementally. He pushed his cock inside you slowly, slowly, wanting to savor every wet and velvety inch of your pussy.

When he finally bottomed out he somehow felt even bigger than he did before with this new angle. It was as if he was in your stomach. In your ribs. In your throat. You felt dizzy. His grip on your chubby thighs tightened as he began thrusting again, starting immediately with a punishing pace. He didn’t pull out very far in this position, unwilling to fully leave your warmth for even a second. It was like he was trying to fuck a baby in you, you thought deliriously. Shit. Where’d that thought come from? It got you dangerously close to cumming and the way he was constantly rubbing against your clit because of your proximity wasn’t fucking helping. You weren’t going to last very long, though you wouldn’t mind being put into a mating press like this for hours at a time.

You needed to cum again. You needed him to cum with you. In you.

You started deliberately clenching around his length, relishing in the way it made his hips stutter and his voice crack. “More, Brahms. Be good for me.” He made a startled sound but didn’t stop his hips for even a moment. He redoubled his efforts, pile driving into you like he hated you. The combined stimulus of his fucking and the sounds of his desperate moans and the vulgar plap plap plap of your hips slamming together and the god damned breeding thing had you teetering over the edge.

You realized then why Brahms hadn’t cum yet. You hadn’t given him permission. You tightly gripped the hair on the back of his head, pulling it so that his ear was right next to your mouth. You licked his ear and felt him shudder. “You fuck me so well, Brahms. Wanna cum now?” He nodded eagerly with his hair still gripped in your palm. The sting of it made him shudder. “Can I? Can I? Can I?” he chanted, making sure to fuck you in the way they you needed. “Cum. Cum in me like the good boy I know you are.” That did it for him. Two more sloppy thrusts and his hips stilled, cock deep inside you. His voice keened as he let out an impossibly large load inside you. You followed close behind, feeling your pussy ripple around him.

You both struggled to catch your breath. Your mind felt foggy and all you could focus on was his comfortable weight on top of you. And the fact that he hadn’t softened, still hard and pulsing inside you.

Yes, you had become addicted to him just that quickly, and he hadn’t softened always been addicted to you.

[emeraldserenade]

The Better Cousin ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: you agreed to be your friend's date to his cousin's birthday, it got complicated when he started flirting with a girl. You end up confiding in Joaquín when he approaches you.

tw: fem!reader, limited use of y/n, cabnw spoliers, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

This did not turn out the way I wanted it but it's whatever.

I'm just finishing up some things I have in my drafts so that way I will less guilty when I have to stop posting while I'm dealing with my family thing.

➽──────────────❥

It was as simple, accepting to be your friend's date. He was tired of his family asking when he was going to get a girlfriend. You loved him, sure, but you weren't in love with him. There was no feelings which is why you were so comfortable with it. Sure, you had to go on a roadtrip with your work friend all the way to Arizona.

It was going well, you met his family and had a good time. That's when him and some of his cousin's decided to go to a bar after the party. Which is where you found yourself, sitting alone and staring at him as he flirted and made out with a blonde.

"Hey, y/n, right?" Joaquín, one of the cousin's you had yet to talk to, asked when he sat down. "I'm Joaquín," he offered his hand and you shook it.

"Hi," you awkwardly told him, not knowing what else to say.

"Where's Richie?" Joaquín looked around and you saw the moment he spotted Richie. "Is he?"

"Making out with a blonde? Yeah," you shrugged, knowing that after this he would tell his family that you two broke up.

"You don't sound upset," Joaquín looked back at you.

"Richie and I aren't actually dating, we're friends. Coworkers mostly, he just didn't want to be hounded by your family about being single," you grabbed your drink, just a non-alcoholic Shirley Temple, the jingle of your bracelets causing Joaquín to look at them.

"Really?"

"Yeah, we had a plan. I was going to show up with him and then in like a week or so he was going to say we either broke up or come clean. Whichever he chose, I was willing to be the bad guy," you shrugged, not really caring.

"What's the plan now that he's making out with her?" Joaquín sounded genuinely curious.

"Here comes the rest of your family, so I guess I'm coming clean," you told Joaquín as his family came up with sympathy. There was a lot of comforting words from them, it made you smile knowing that even though they've only know you for a day they were willing to comfort you.

"I'll go fight his ass," Felix told you before moving to walk away.

"Wait," you called out, gently grasping his wrist. "It's ok, and I'm not just saying that. Richie and I are coworkers, friends. He just didn't want you guys to ask about a girlfriend so I said I would pretend. Truly, it's my fault, I suggested it. Well, not that I would be his fake girlfriend but that he could just lie about having one, he asked me if I would pretend. And I'm going to stop talking now," you realized you were rambling. Everyone around you just nodded and you realized how they weren't in the least bit shocked.

"Oh, thank goodness," one of the female cousins, Angeline, laughed. "No offense, but you could do so much better than Richie. Trust me," he smiled at you and you smiled back. Everyone dispersed from around you, minus Joaquín.

"They weren't shocked," you stated in slight disbelief.

"Every time he was asked something about you or talked about you, he sounded so disinterested. Everyone thought this was once sided and didn't want to hurt your feelings," Joaquín told you and you raised your eyebrows.

"Oh, I guess I never thought about how bad he was at acting," you mumbled.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You and Joaquín had been talking for hours, both of you hadn't been drinking. You were approached a few minutes ago by various cousins saying they were headed home. You two were only still there waiting on Richie to either go home with the blonde or come over staying he was ready to go.

"So you're the new Falcon?" You were leaning close to Joaquín, the music in the bar had been turned down a little but it was still relatively loud.

"I am, I just have to finish healing before Sam will let me do anything," Joaquín told you. He had told you about what happened at Celestial Island.

"That's cool," you're eyes tracked Richie as he walked over.

"Are you two ok with me going with Ginny?" He pointed his thumb over to the blonde he's been talking to all night.

"That's fine with me," you looked over at Joaquín who nodded.

"Well, see you two," Richie ran over to Ginny and you looked back at Joaquín.

"Ready to go home?" Joaquín stood and offered you his hand, which you accepted.

"I hope you mean back to your family home because I live all the way out in DC," you joked.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín and you carefully walked back into the house, most of the lights were off which is why you both slightly jumped when you ran into his mother in the living room. You stepped closer to him while he wrapped his arm around your shoulders in fear.

"Oh, Quino, y/n, you two are home," she gave you a smile. "The others told the rest of us all about the plan you and Richie had, my dear," her smile shifted into a knowing one.

"I'm sorry about lying to all of you," you hung your head slightly.

"It's ok," you missed the way her eyes went between you and Joaquín. His arm still around your shoulders and you stepping even closer. "I understand wanting to help a friend, plus maybe there's come good in this after all. We did get to meet you," she smiled and you looked back up at her with one of your own. "Oh, I hope you don't mind but we moved some people into the room you were supposed to stay in. I hope you don't mind having to share a room with Quino."

"Oh," you are Joaquín shared a look. "I don't mind if you don't," you told Joaquín.

"I don't," he told you.

"Good, we moved you things in there. Now run along to bed you two," Joaquín's mom told you, both of you wishing her a good night before going upstairs to bed.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"You two know," Richie started talking, it had been a few years since you first went with him to his cousin's birthday. You and Joaquín had been dating for 2 of those. "You two wouldn't be together if it weren't for me," Richie gloated, you were sitting on Joaquín's lap laughing. You felt his arms tighten around your waist.

"Hm, and you wouldn't be single if you just listened to me and asked Ginny out. Yet here you are, single and moping because you're a coward," you gave Richie a bitchy smile.

"You win, this time," he told you.

"I win every time, how else do you think I got the better cousin?" You leaned back into Joaquín as everyone laughed.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[3amwritings]

The Priest's Favorite Sinner

Pairing: Priest!Jeong Yunho x Reader

Genre: Smut, 18+ Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2.7k words

Summary: The Priest has his favorite sinner, his favorite forbidden fruit.

Warnings: Smut, Blowjobs, Religious guilt, Religious Imagery, Unprotected sex, riding, Gender Neutral reader (I try), Exhibitionism, Reader degrades Yunho and he's super into it, Kinda proofread? , Yunho is a freak freak

A/N: I finally posted something to this acc (admin 🥥 here), I had this bitch sitting in my drafts for months so I decided to clean it up to post >.< I hope you enjoy it! It's my first ever fic like this and any feedback is appreciated ^0^

...To be honest, Yunho does not remember where this perverted fixation on you had started. You’re nothing more than a filthy sinner, someone that Yunho should have stayed away from, from the very moment he laid eyes on you. But you were too enticing for him. Maybe this had started when you accidentally caught him jerking off to a photo of you in his office. Or maybe it started when you had lured him into the confession booth, with those seductive eyes.

Well, whatever it was that started all this… now Yunho can’t get enough of you.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." Yunho gasps out, his voice slightly strained, his hands gripping the handles of the confession booth desperately. His grip was so tight, that his knuckles were turning white.

Here you were, between his legs as he sat in the confession booth, his cock deep down your throat. He gasps out and whimpers at how fucking good you feel, your warm mouth taking in all of him. It feels like pure bliss, his heavy cock twitching against your warm tongue.

…This is not what a priest does. A lingering sense of guilt rests in his stomach, a pit chewing at him. nYunho was aware that what he was doing was wrong. If by some miracle he wasn’t damned, this was certainly the nail in the coffin.

Each quickie or blowjob you give, in the confession booth or his office, only lures him in deeper, hook and sinker. You're like a drug to him, and he's addicted…

But Yunho can’t lie and say he doesn’t feel a bit of shame. The never-ending guilt and shame of doing these sinful things in a place considered Holy. What type of priest is he? What type of priest has he become?

… A dirty fucking one, that’s for sure. He’s so addicted to you and your body, trying to find the next wild or bizarre thing to do that puts them at a high risk of being caught…

His cock twitches even more at the idea, another moan slipping his pretty, plush lips. God, you’re so fucking good at being a slut for him.

But suddenly, Yunho was snapped out of thoughts, at the sound of the door to the other side of the confession booth opening, and the shuffling of clothing. Yunho's eyes widened, his face flushing red. What the fuck? Didn’t he put up a sign he would not be hosting confessions today? Had he forgotten?

The logical thing to do was pull you off his cock and take the confession. That’s what a good priest who had not fallen into temptation would do. However… The idea that he has to listen to someone repent their sins to their priest, all while getting his cock sucked and staying quiet is so hot to him... Yunho really was a pervert, wasn't he?

He quietly mutters another apology under his breath, as his hand tightens its grip on your hair, guiding you to keep a steady place as you blow him. Who was the apology for? Not even Yunho knows.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned." A man speaks softly, the strain in his voice obvious. He had been crying prior, and in a heartbroken manner, came to Yunho to help find some peace. Your eyes are glued on Yunho, who clears his throat, preparing to reply.

He lets out another low groan, his hips instinctively bucking towards your eager mouth. His fingers tighten around your hair, guiding your movements.

…How is he supposed to care about someone else's sins when all he can think about is how much he wants to bend you over right now? 

You quite truly are the forbidden fruit.

"Go on, my child" Yunho finally begins, his voice shaky and filled with lustful need. God help him, but it feels so wrong yet oh-so-right at the same time.

The other person on the other side didn't hear how Yunho sounded different, probably too grief-stricken to notice or care. He begins to talk, occasionally stopping to hiccup or sob. Yunho was trying to focus on this story, his mind split between processing this man’s story and relishing the warm sensation of your mouth enveloping his cock.

For just a moment, Yunho feels guilty about what he is doing while this poor man repents his sins.

But you don’t.

Carefully, while locking eyes with him, you slowly took more of Yunho’s cock deeper into your mouth, deepthroating him. His eyes widened as he watched you, biting his lip so hard he could taste crimson metallic blood. It oozes out of the wound and threatens to spill down his chin.

You took him all in, the tip of your nose pressed against his skin, the sight so erotic Yunho wished he could be like this forever. Your sweet, plush lips around his cock…

Fuck, you’re going to be the death of him.

"What...what sins have you committed?" Yunho manages to choke out, his words barely coherent as he struggles to maintain control. His body tenses up, muscles clenching as he fights against the overwhelming urge to cum. Did this man already tell Yunho about his sins? He’s not even paying attention at this point.

Thankfully, the man hadn’t told Yunho his sins, and he did just that. Yunho can hear the man’s voice trembling, as he voices the sins he committed, that led him to this very confession booth. Yunho couldn’t help but roll his eyes. The sins he mentioned were not worthy of showing up here, not even in the slightest.

His grip on your hair tightens further, pulling you closer until there's no space left between your lips and his body. He starts thrusting shallowly, using your mouth like his own personal sex toy. "Tell me everything," he commands breathlessly, his voice low and husky with desire. "Don't leave anything out..."

Is he stalling? Is Yunho hoping that the man’s tragic story takes up enough time for Yunho to finally climax? Not even he knows.

What he should have done was just bless him and forgive his sins already… Well, that could only happen if he wasn’t such a pervert. The idea that this random man finds out is hotter than any fantasty Yunho could come up with.

*"...and that's why I'm here," the voice from outside continues, sounding broken-hearted and remorseful.

But Yunho can hardly concentrate on the man’s words. Every fiber of his being screams for release, begging him to let go and surrender himself fully to pleasure. A soft whimper escapes him as you constrict your throat even more- such a simple action sends shockwaves through his body. 

"Well..." His mind was too fuzzy to come up with a specific answer. His brain scurried to find a simple basic answer, one to satisfy this man so he could get the hell out faster. He finally responds after what felt like ages with, "It seems that your penance will involve many prayers and hours spent kneeling before God." How ironic.

With those words hanging heavy in the air, Yunho gives one final push into your welcoming mouth. A soft shuddered sigh leaves his lips, his head tilted forward, as his locks of black hair stick to his forehead, littered with beads of sweat.

You slightly cough as he grips your hair tighter and holds your head down, as he releases hot cum down your throat. It overflows, some of it escaping the corners of your mouth, mixed with some of your saliva, dripping down the base of his cock, and down his balls. It most definitely ruined his robes, but to be honest, Yunho couldn't care less.

"Oh, thank you, Father." The grief-stricken man thanks Yunho multiple times, his voice full of joy and relief. He wasn’t even aware of what had been happening next door. The newly repented man leaves the confession booth, leaving Yunho and you alone here.

As you were finally pulled off his softening cock, you couldn’t help but softly cough out, having managed to swallow all that Yunho had given you. “...You’re a fucking pervert, you know.” You couldn’t help but gasp out, trying to catch your breath.

Yunho couldn’t help but narrow his eyes at you. You’re correct, but why must you be so vulgar about it? “A pervert? Is that what you think of me?” He softly mused, his hand letting go of your hair, his hands almost instinctively petting it, to smooth it out. For a moment, Yunho had to admire how divine you looked in the dim lighting of the confession booth.

“You seemed super fucking turned on about the idea someone could have discovered us…” You commented in a very curt, straightforward manner. “...That's something only a pervert would get off to.” A sly smile forms on your face as Yunho's face slightly flushes red. Again, you might be right, but why so blunt about it?

He swallows as he watches you strip your clothes off in a nonchalant manner, his cock somehow hardening yet again. You and your cursed spell.

"...You're right," Yunho finally admitted softly, his hands reaching for your bare hips, feeling the soft flesh underneath his fingertips. He gives a possessive squeeze, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his mind runs crazy with lust and desire. He pulls you in more, having you straddle Yunho.  "I am a pervert. And you're the reason why."

His hands roam and touch every part of you he can, committing it to memory. He can never get enough of your body. He’s utterly hooked.

"I can't help myself around you. You drive me crazy..." Yunho’s voice is deep and sensual, as he pulls you in even closer to him. His lips then began to press kisses all over your bare chest. You couldn’t help but let out a shuddered sigh, your head tilted back in pure bliss.

…All his life, Jeong Yunho had devoted himself to the name of Christ and God. It feels with each feverish kiss he presses on your delicate skin, more and more of his sanity slips away. The delicate braid of his faith in his religion, unraveled string by string. You were the one he wanted to spend and dedicate the rest of his life worshipping. 

To prove his point, Yunho captures your nipple between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to elicit a gasp from your parted lips. "Mmm, but I bet you love it, just as much as I do." He murmured in a husky manner, his eyes looking up at you. A crazed look of insanity, lust, and devotion was swirling in those brown eyes of him, signifying that this priest was long gone.

You couldn’t help but nod, little moans slipping past your lips with each kiss, each hickey, and each bite Yunho leaves on you, marking you in a way only a sinner could.

“Oh, yes I do, Father.” You moan out, peering down and snickering to yourself as Yunho’s ears slightly flush red. You can’t get enough of teasing him.

His cock eagerly twitches against your needy hole, and you lifted your hips up just enough, positioning yourself to be a bit more comfortable.

Knees planted on either side of Yunho’s beefy thighs, one hand on the handle of the confession booth and the other on Yunho’s shoulder, you lazily roll your hips over the sensitive tip, watching the priest under you shudder.

“Don’t tease me like that.” Yunho desperately hisses between his teeth, his hands firmly gripping your hips. Once his tip was kissing against your hole, Yunho couldn’t help but let out a trembling moan once you finally sank down on him.

A sweet moan leaves your lips as his big cock stretches you out, your velvety walls pulsing and eagerly milking him, his tip pressed right against that sweet spot deep in you. “Oh yes, Father-” You moaned out, as you began to roll your hips, bouncing on Yunho’s cock.

Deep moans leave Yunho’s lips, he’s absolutely mesmerized by you. You look so angelic riding him, so ethereal. Liquid pleasure courses through Yunho's veins, but he doesn’t even have time to relish in it.

In the midst of his pleasure-filled haze, Yunho’s ears pick up once again on the confession booth door next to him opening. What the fuck?!

Suddenly, without thinking, Yunho puts his hand to your mouth and shoves his fingers in. His fingers press against your tongue, causing you to slightly cough, any noises afterward muffled. On the other side, it’s an older woman’s voice. “Father forgive me, for I have sinned.”

His heart beats out of his chest, that same thrill he got from earlier coursing through his veins. The thrill of potentially being caught is too addicting for Yunho to just give up. As his free hand gently guides you to keep bouncing on his cock, he clears his throat, and he speaks. “What seems to be troubling you, my child? Speak freely.” 

His mind is melting. Yunho’s eyes are fixated on your form, the way you bounce on his aching cock, the way you look taking his fingers in your mouth, the way your spit drools down your chin. He’s trying to focus on the lady next to him. He really is. You’re just too distracting. You just simply feel too good, wrapped around his cock.

With sniffles, the woman next to him began to confess her sins in a soft, repentant voice, which only made Yunho roll his eyes again. This was once again petty bullshit that did not require to be forgiven.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you then began to grind your hips for more pleasure, and by accident, a soft moan left his lips. Your eyes narrow in delight as Yunho’s eyes widen in horror, his hand squeezing your hip so hard there would surely be bruises by tomorrow.

“F-Father are you okay?” The woman on the other asks in a concerned manner. She has no idea. She has no clue what is happening next to her.

“Apologies, my child…” Yunho stammers out slightly, trying to compose himself to respond. “...I slept wrong on my neck last night. Just had some pain.”

Really? Neck pain? Is that the best he can do? Yunho could feel your tongue move as you giggled underneath his fingers, and he shot you a glare to behave yourself.

The woman clears her throat, before continuing her tale. “Please Father, what should I do?”

That’s a great question. What should she do?

Yunho grits his teeth as he begins to thrust his hips upwards, his cock hitting that spot that makes you see stars. A knot forms quickly in your abdomen, signaling that you aren’t gonna last long. As your tongue decides to swirl around his long fingers, Yunho’s eyes roll to the back of his head, his own orgasm approaching quickly. His eyes clenched shut as he fights to maintain control, even an ounce of sanity.

“Forgiveness can be found through prayer and penance, my child," Yunho finally manages to say, his voice strained and husky. “Now repeat after me: 'I am truly sorry for my sins...'”

As the woman in the booth next to him begins to recite the phrase, Yunho's thrusts become more erratic, desperately chasing that sweet forbidden release. He's teetering on the edge, the sweet taste of Nirvana is just right on the tip of his tongue.

Your eyes roll back to the back of your head as you came, your juices coating and making a mess on Yunho’s thighs. If Yunho’s fingers were not in your mouth, your moans would have been so loud right now.

Yunho shudders at the sight of your orgasm that he can’t hold back anymore, pulling your hips down on his cock as he came, shooting streams of  cum into your sweet hole.

He lets out a low shaky exhale, as the lady in the booth next to him thanks Father Yunho, leaving in a hurry.

The only sound that could be heard is the soft ragged breathing that came from you and Yunho, trying to catch your breaths from such an experience.

“...Told ya that you were a pervert.” You grinned slightly, as you slowly lifted yourself off his softening cock, some of his cum slightly leaking out.

Yunho, who’s still trying to catch his breath, narrows his eyes but chooses not to comment on it. After all, you were correct.

[unnatural-happenings]

Of Capes & Billionaires

Took a break from staring at my Persona drafts again to write this instead lol. Would be the first part to this if I decide that finishing the future drafts is worth the time spent away from the Persona fic (ie if I enjoy it)

Fandoms: Batfam x Reader x Avengers

Characters: Damian and Loki. Some of the Batfam and Avengers are here too, but the focus is mostly on them

Notes: Reader is They/Them, Loki is here because I want him to be, Reader is a kid of Bruce Wayne, While this isn't a neglectful!Batfam fic the relationship is still tense atm, for Marvel I try to stick to MCU personalities but a little bit of comic or cartoon quirks might make it in

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Living with Bruce Wayne has always been frustrating. The rules, the expectations, the press, galas, and vigilante nonsense makes for an extremely stressful environment. Adding family drama on top of all that is a surefire way to make you slip away at the nearest convenience.

Your second home with the Avengers is more carefree—less brooding, way less pretending, and always welcomes you back with open arms… and maybe a drink or two. They're your safe haven, and you'd love nothing more to keep it that way.

Unfortunately, your family has never been good at letting secrets stay secrets.

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Damian could not believe this farce you're playing is still ongoing. You continue to vex him even in your absence and make his evening worse.

It had been a long day. School was as dull as usual, the teachers not teaching anything new and his classmates completely vapid, he'd taken care of every one of his pets, already got Grayson to spar with him, the rest of his brothers have vanished, and patrols wouldn't start for another hour.

He was as free as can be and it left him annoyed beyond measure. His go to option for filling up dead time wasn't available—to his complete ire—so he spent time in his room trying to draw while Alfred the cat curled up next to him. Though he could barely focus on what he was actually putting to paper, as his mind kept drifting to the one person responsible for his current lack of activity.

Stewing within his head and staring at a sheet of paper filled with mindless doodles is when his phone buzzes next to him. It's in a familiar rhythm that has him instantly pick it up to check the notification.

Fury is the only acceptable word for what Damian's currently feeling.

His sketchbook is haphazardly thrown onto the bed as he gets up—annoying Alfred—and makes a beeline for the door. He storms through the manor, every step fueled by a deep, aimless frustration as he throws open one of the many entrances to the Batcave.

Everyone's already arrived before him—or it's better to say they were all already there, and all strewn about the place. Though he cares little for their positions when Drake is the only one that can provide any answers.

Damian's eyes dart to the Batcomputer to see what you just posted to your social on one of the bigger screens, and Drake typing away on another. It was a picture of you standing on the snowy peak of mountain—drinking hot chocolate, along with some blonde guy that definitely didn't deserve to stand in your presence.

"Drake."

"I know, I know, I'm already on it."

He stands there and watches as Drake goes through file after file, checking as much surveillance footage as possible and putting the unknown's face through every registry he could think of. By the end, everything comes back negative and he slides downwards in his seat with a groan.

Todd puts down the gun he was cleaning, obviously barely paying attention to what was happening on the screen having resigned himself to lack any expectations.

"Let me guess, nothing again."

Drake runs a hand over his eyes and Damian scoffs when he notices his leg start bouncing, "He still shows no results and they're no longer in that location anymore. This was posted long after they already left… Again."

He can't believe what he's hearing. To have gone this long without finding a single clue leaves Damian doubting Drake's skill altogether.

"I thought you were supposed to be the computer genius of the family. How come you still haven't found a clue as to where our sibling is located?"

Drake lets out a sharp exhale, "We've been through this ten over times now and every search has ended the same. They post the pictures when they're already out of the area, they have location tags and their GPS turned off, despite clearly being all over the world their profile always signs in from Sydney Australia, their email isn't real, they're using a highly encrypted device even Oracle is struggling to deal with, every purchase they make is either in cash or using another persons card, and somehow, not once have they been caught on camera by any surveillance."

He goes on to mutter under his breath, too low for Damian to make out any words, but it further irritates him anyway.

"Are you positive you're even trying? It's not like they're not some elusive figure."

Drake spins in the chair to directly face Damian, his extreme irritation made know at his prodding, "I wouldn't even slack during an investigation for Kite Man, to think I'd do so for any member of our family is insulting. I want to find them as much as you do. It's also necessary to learn how they've been able to avoid detection for so long—"

"Well it sounds like you're only searching because they hurt your ego."

"Are you hearing yourself—"

"Enough."

Their father calls out from the side. He doesn't do anything else other than stand their and stare, but it's enough to instantly silence both of them and keep them from continuing. He gestures with his head towards the screen, and Drake rolls his eyes before spinning back around.

From behind the bat, Jason speaks out while cleaning one of his firearms, "So what? Either he continuously wipes every database in the world, or he doesn't exist?"

Grayson also finally decides to join in with a comment of his own, "Could he be photoshopped at all?"

He walks closer to the screen to get a better look at the man you're posing with in the picture. Cain follows behind him, carefully studying the photo as well, but not adding anything to the conversation as of yet.

Drake sits up in his seat, his anger fading into exhaustion with another sigh, "No." He starts another scan of the blonde's face through a meta/mutant database, "Both options are seemingly impossible, considering they go everywhere together with no evidence of photo tampering. One moment they're on the beaches of Denmark and the next they're skiing in Canada!" He mutters under his breath, "Not to mention they didn't even take enough money to go on all these flights. I have no idea where they're getting the funds for this."

He slumps over again when the results turn up negative, just like every other.

Todd strolls over like he has no care for the outcome, but it only takes looking at his face to see how this is affecting him. His jaw tense as he glares directly at the light-haired man, no doubt trying to burn his appearance into his memory. Damian has also done this himself. but truly, he doesn't think Todd's earned the right to be as mad as he is at your disappearing act, and it makes his own blood boil even more.

"Tch. We wouldn't be going through such troubles in the first place if they took their phone with them. We should not be learning about their location through second hand sources."

That was merely meant to be a statement regarding the inconvenience of their search despite being family, but Todd felt the need to add to it and make it more personal.

"We wouldn't be trying to find them at all if they didn't run off without saying anything, then start hangin' out with a guy we can't track."

"They wouldn't have even left if you all didn't—"

"Are we really doing this now?"

This time, their father doesn't interfere as Damian starts another argument, merely grunt in disapproval. Cain takes one last look at the picture and leaves Grayson's side—who in particular is wondering if he should step in to stop the increasingly violent fight—to walk up to Bruce.

He acknowledges her with a nod and she gets right to he inquiry, "… What about Superman?"

Cain's interjection causes Damian to put a pause on reaching for the nearest batarang to fling past Grayson at Todd. He needs to hear if the Super family has any word on your whereabouts. They should, but if for some reason they know nothing or refuse to help, it shouldn't be to hard to get information out of Jon.

"He refuses to tell me anything, and has made a conscious effort to not report any potential leads to their location in Justice League systems."

Drake turns towards everyone again in the chair, "Conner hasn't said anything either."

Grayson's in the middle of picking up batarangs lying about the cave and putting them in his inner jacket pockets, "They don't want to be found that bad huh…" When he's collected all that he can see he steps in front of Todd—ignoring the hard look he's getting from him, "At least they seem to be doing okay for now."

Todd rolls his eyes and makes his way over to his bike, "Why are we even trying this hard to find them in the first place?"

Damian turns his attention back to Todd with a glare, baffled by the idiocy and his seemingly short-term memory loss. Before he could remind him again that this whole situation is partly his fault, Drake replies

"You were on B's side weren't you? You know why."

Todd looks back towards the group, and for a moment Damian could see how tired he actually was. His shoulders slouched and the bags under his eyes became more prominent, though the frustration at the world—or maybe just towards their father, is still clearly evident.

"I really don't anymore." And just like that he was back to acting indifferent about everything. He hops on his motorcycle and starts the engine, then digs through his bag for his helmet, "Goin' on patrol. Anyone joinin'?"

Already in her suit, Cain is quick to jump on the back of his bike. She accepts the spare helmet Todd hands her without question and swiftly locks it in place as he revs the engine.

Father steps forward, his tone stern as he watches them prepare to leave, "It's not—"

"It's already dark out. Don't start this again, we're still dealing with the consequences of the last one." Jason snaps back. With that, they take off out of the cave without another word.

Grayson leans over Drake to scroll through the rest of your pictures. Multiple of the recent pictures include the very same man that none of them are able to put an identity to. Drake and Damian also scanning each photo they go through, hoping for anything to make sense about the mystery man. In every picture you're happy and don't seem worried about him at all. None of your expressions seem fake either, if only a little exaggerated in some. You act like you've known this guy for years, so why hasn't anyone heard of him before?

Drake runs a hand over his face a d huffs out his next words, "This guy bothers me."

Grayson leans his arm on Drake's shoulder, ignoring his attempts to swat him off, "I know right? He's blonde, that just spells trouble."

"… That's not what I meant at all."

Damian tunes out the chatter from the peanut gallery and turns to his father to inform him on his plans, "I will ask Jon if Kent has informed him of anything, or if they know where they are already."

Drake snorts and lets out a quick 'good luck with that'. Damian has to fight the urge to turn around and insult him for even daring to laugh at his attempts. At least he was still doing something, unlike some of the others.

Then he thinks back on the argument that got you to leave unannounced in the first place and he changes his mind. Half of this family isn't good enough to go searching for you anyway. He's sure if you spotted them, you'd make sure you're never found again. All this over something so idiotic.

Whatever. Once he finds you he'll make sure something so asinine won't happen again, so you won't have to feel like you need to escape again. He'll beat it into everyone's head over and over to never look down on you again if it meant you'd tell him what's going on.

Maybe he should deal with that unknown with you as well. Whoever he is, he's way beneath you, and you shouldn't be giving your time to him at all. What would make you stoop so low as to hangout with random civilians over your own family?

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"I swear to God if you throw that blue shell—"

"Too late."

You can do nothing but curse as your position is threatened. All you have is a green shell with a single coin in your back pocket, with no item boxes nearby to try for a boombox. Within seconds you're screaming as the blue shell reaches you and blows you into oblivion. You watch the entire race pass you while waiting for your kart to stop spinning out, ignoring the cheering from the God of Thunder and the victory lap the archer is currently doing around the room. By the time you can drive forward you have no hope of catching up to the front of the pack with no items and no coins, and come in 7th place. You fall off the couch to kneel on the floor, muttering about how you've disgraced your entire linage.

Natasha nudges your back foot from her position on the couch. She doesn't look up from the book she's reading, but obviously is addressing you with her next words.

"You still won the grand prix. Clint isn't even close, and Thor wasn't really competition to begin with."

You shake your head and lean back onto your knees, "You don't understand Nat. Every loss is a severe scar on my record. A stain. Something to be held over my head for years to come. I need to make up for this failure by setting the new world record on the track I've let best me in a moment of weakness."

That's when she looks up from the book she's reading, her brow quirked, not even trying to hide her amusement at your misfortune, "Aren't you already the world record holder?"

"It's obviously not good enough."

"You only lost because of a blue shell."

Suddenly you're being lifted off the floor. Extremely muscular arms wrap around your middle and pull you into a toned chest. Along with the deep laughter coming from the man behind you, and noticing the missing God of Thunder on the couch, you're easily able to identify Thor's the one to pick you up.

"You did splendid! You're mastery has indeed improved since we last versed one another, as have mine! Though Barton…"

Both of you bring your attention back to the archer to see he's still doing victory laps around the room.

"'Twas but a cheap trick. I assure you his proficiency is far below yours."

"A cheap trick means nothing. I still lost, and to him."

Thor only responds with more laughter.

Clint finally stops his self congratulatory dance to… correct your very wrong opinion of him, "Hey, that was not cheap! I worked hard to drive that Blue Shell to the front of the race!"

You wiggle until Thor puts you down, not wanting to argue held in his arms, "You're bagging tactics are cheap and lame!"

"Bagging requires skill—Wait you were bagging our last race! Why are you getting mad at me!?"

Suddenly a book slams closed, cutting off your oncoming rebuttal and drawing everyone's attention to the corner of the room. Another god sits in the corner, his displeasure made evident through the scowl resting on his face and the closed book on his lap. He stands with a level of grace only a spoon fed, self righteous royal could attain, causing you to grumble under your breath—assuming he's only acting this extra because he either wants something, or is planning something.

He shoots you a glare before addressing everyone in the room, his voice underlined with irritation, "You lot are trying my patience with your incessant howling. Attempting to put up with this noise any longer may cause severe damage to my own sanity."

You're heart sinks a little as he makes his way to leave, but on his way past he grabs the back of your clothes and drags you with him without a second thought.

"H-HEY! LOKI WAIT! THE GAME!"

The others do nothing to help you, all used to you acting as the mischief maker's shadow, whether willing or not. You make sure to flip them off before you turn the corner, seeing Natasha shrug and go back to her own book and Thor wave with one of the largest smiles you've seen on him. Clint only laughs at your predicament, so you mentally note to make him your target the next time you play a party game.

Once you're far enough away and Loki has slid his hand from the back of your clothes to your wrist do you speak up.

"You could just ask me to walk with you y'know?"

"So you wouldn't have thrown yourself to further rot away by the hands of that game to accomplish some arbitrary award that grants you nothing but bragging rights?"

"… No?"

"Don't lie to me."

You don't respond, and it's silent as you let Loki take you to wherever he's going. Soon enough you find yourself in front of your bedroom, Loki letting go of you and easily phasing through the door. With a roll of your eyes and complaints under your breath you follow after him.

He's already taken a seat on the egg chair you have next to the bookshelf and opened his book. You huff before looking around for things to do. There isn't much in the room, you never stayed long enough to bother personalizing it, but you do spot the Gamecube Tony bought for you as a joke. He was getting tired of you not doing anything, so he got that and a shelf full of games—said he was buying you a personality.

"Do not tell me you're still going to play that aggravating racing game?"

You continue to set up the console as you reply to him, "It's only aggravating when I'm playing with Clint, and is the one thing I have over Tim, so I gotta make sure I stay better then him." You look over to him and see he's still got his head in his book, "And you're reading! what else do you want me to do!"

Loki ignores most of what you said, only focusing on one thing, "If you are that keen on thinking about your family through every action then why are you still here? I thought you hated them."

"I just need time away." You sigh as you're thoughts drift a little more to the rest of your family, "That house is suffocating, but that doesn't mean I love them less. They're just being annoying."

A laugh escapes you when you think about how annoyed some of them must be right now due to your recent stunt, "That, and it's really funny being petty."

Loki let's it go as he chuckles himself, "Speaking of being petty, where's our next photoshoot? I'm sure they enjoyed seeing our last in the mountains."

You laugh more freely now as you bring your attention back to the game, pushing aside the more troublesome thoughts, "I heard Tony owns a private beach house. I'm sure he wouldn't mind us dropping by for a couple pictures."

[thoseboysinblue]

Santa Baby

Mason Mount x reader

You and Mason welcome your first daughter shortly before the holidays.

Word Count: 8400+

Requested: No

Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), swearing, child birth (under 18 DNI)

A/N: This is an old draft I had for Mason and to be quite honest, I'm a bit nervous to post since it has been a while. I had every intention of getting this posted before Christmas, but it just didn't happen. Feedback always appreciated.

Mason had left for training early that morning, after you had reassured him several times that you were fine. You were sure the uneasy feelings you had were more related to Braxton Hicks contractions and the excitement of the upcoming holidays more than anything.

You were still three weeks from your due date with your and Mason's first baby and your midwife appointment a few days ago was uneventful and you were showing no signs of progressing towards labor at that time.

Christmas is next week and if you can just get through the last few things on your to do list you will be fine. However, the irregular pains you were feeling earlier in the morning have since become more regular and slightly more painful, enough so that you decided to give the midwife a call to ease your mind.

"How often?" she asks, trying not to sound overly concerned.

"Every seven minutes," you breathe.

"And getting stronger?" she follows up with another question.

"Yes, definitely getting stronger," you sway your hips standing at the kitchen counter, seeking any kind of relief you could get.

"Where's Mason?" she asks another question.

"Training, he should be home in a couple of hours," you wince slightly at the pain.

"Oh no," you gasp when your water breaks sending a cascade of fluid onto the floor.

"Y/N, can you still feel the baby moving ok?" she asks after you explained what happened.

"Mmhmm," you groan, "shit, that hurts a lot worse now."

"Y/N, you need to call Mason and get him home, I will meet you guys at that hospital. Congratulations mummy, it's baby day," you can hear the smile in her voice.

"Hi, Catherine," you grit your teeth through another contraction, "it's Y/N Mount, I can't get Mase on the phone, I'm sure he's still training, but can you track him down and have him call me, it's urgent."

"Yes, of course, is everything ok, dear?" she asks.

"Mmmhmmm, or it will be, I hope, just have him call me as soon as possible please," you beg before ending the call.

You do your best to clean up the all of the fluid out of the floor, changing clothes quickly and grabbing all of the things you had thankfully already packed the week before.

When Mason calls you back, you can tell he's out of breath and sounds like he's running still. "Hey baby, is everything ok?" he asks his voice full of concern.

"My water broke, Mase, I'm in labor," you groan as you hear him starting his car.

"I'll be there as fast as I can," he says nervously.

"Be careful, don't speed, I'm not going anywhere," you laugh softly, calming him a bit.

"Ok, I love you, see you soon," you hear the engine rev.

"I'm serious, Mason Mount, it won't do me any good if you don't ont get here in one piece," you say sternly.

"Yes ma'am," he chuckles.

"I love you, be safe," you sigh.

About ten minutes later you hear Mason clatter through the door, still wearing his training kit, boots and all.

"Hi baby," he smiles at you, coming over and wrapping you in a hug, gently rubbing your back when you groan as you have another contraction.

"They are about five minutes apart now," you breathe out.

"Go shower, quick, I don't want our baby meeting you when you smell like sweat and grass," you smile up at him.

A few minutes later he is rushing back down the stairs, freshly showered and changed. He grabs your things and puts them in the car and then helps you into the front seat where you lay a towel down trying not to ruin the interior.

He holds your hand and soothingly strokes over the back of it with his thumb as he makes the short drive to the hospital.

"Thank God, we picked somewhere close," you sigh as you pull into the car park.

He turns off the car and moves to open the door when you grab his hand, "Mase, wait, what if I can't do this, what if I can't get her here safely," you look at him, your eyes brimming with tears.

He leans his forehead against yours, "y/n, baby, you've done so well this whole entire time, you've been so strong, I know you can do this, everything is going to be fine."

He kisses you softly on the lips, "let's go meet our baby girl," he smiles at you when you nod.

Once you've settled into the delivery suite, your midwife comes into check you. "Already at 6cm, y/n, you're doing brilliant," she beams at you, "I would say this little one will be here in a couple of hours if you continue progressing this well."

Mason stays beside you, holding your hand, rubbing your back, and encouraging you every step of the way. He doesn't even wince when you hurl a few curse words his way for "getting you into this mess."

Once you're fully dilated and it's time to start pushing, the panic really sets in.

"Mase, I can't, I can't do this," you shake your head at him, tears slipping from your eyes.

"Baby," he says, brushing your hair out of your eyes and kissing you on the forehead, "you can do this, I know you can, I'm so proud of you, y/n, you've done so well, just a little while longer, yeah? She'll be here soon, I love you so much."

You nod and close your eyes, willing yourself to keep going, for him, for your baby girl that you can't wait to meet.

"I'm ready," you breathe out, squeezing his hand.

"That's my girl," he smiles proudly at you.

A short while later, cries fill the room as your baby girl enters the world and is placed on your chest.

Mason looks at you with tears running down his face as they ask him if he would like to cut the cord. He nervously takes the scissors and does the honors, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I'm so proud of you, you were amazing, look at her, she's perfect," he smiles at your newborn who is now quietly laying on your chest.

"I'm going to take her over here and clean her up and check her over," one of the nurses smiles at you as she removes her from your chest and places her under the warmer.

"I love you so much, y/n, thank you," he smiles at you before kissing you softly.

He stays by your side but keeps glancing over to where the nurses are looking your daughter over.

"Mase," you get his attention, "you can go over there," you smile at him.

"You sure?" he asks but his eyes keep wandering over to his baby.

"Yes, Mase, I'm sure, go see her," you nod at him kissing the back of his hand.

"I'll be right here if you need me," he says kissing you on the forehead again.

"Unless you've miraculously learned to sew, I think I'll be ok with the midwife," you chuckle.

He looks at you a bit puzzled.

"Stitches, Mason, she's putting in stitches," you giggle when you see his eyes widen once he realizes.

"Oh," he shakes his head at himself, "do a good job," he smiles at the midwife, "I mean, take good care of her."

The midwife chuckles at him as he moves around the end of the bed.

"I am so sorry," he says when he glances to where she's working, never even looking up to your face.

You and the midwife shake your heads at one another as he makes his way over to his baby girl.

"Dad, would you like to put her on her first nappy?" the nurse smiles at him.

"Yeah, sure" he says nervously.

"Have you done this before?" she asks handing him the diaper.

"Once or twice, but never when they're this new," he looks down at his newborn baby girl, gently starting to put the diaper on her.

"You're not going to break her I promise," the nurse chuckles at him.

He finishes up and she swaddles her in a blanket and hands her to him. "There you go dad, all yours," she smiles at him as tears well in his eyes.

"You're all mine," he grins, "you've got the best mummy in the world little girl, she's so brave and so strong and I hope you grow up to be just like her," he says as tears stream down his face.

You take a couple of pictures of them with your phone before getting his attention. "Mase," you smile at him when he looks up at you with the biggest grin on his face while you take a few more photos.

He moves over to stand next to you, "thankfully she has your nose, I think," he grins.

"But I hope she has your eyes," you smile up at him.

"She's got a head full of dark hair," he continues smiling at her, pulling the hat back enough for you to be able to see.

"Alright mummy, just going to clean you up a bit and put a fresh gown on you and get you some fresh linens," the midwife smiles at you, "then you can do some skin to skin with her."

Once you're cleaned up and have a fresh gown on and clean sheets, the midwife takes a few pictures of the three of you before placing your baby girl on your chest.

"She might be hungry soon, you can call the nurses to come help you with feeding her when you're ready," she smiles at you.

"She's beautiful, you both did a great job," she takes another picture for you before leaving the room.

Once she's left, Mason is standing beside the bed looking at both of you. He takes a few pictures with his phone and continues hovering over both of you.

"Mase, come here," you say scooting over in the bed and making room for him to sit with you.

He kicks his shoes off and climbs into bed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you cuddle into his side. He places his other hand over your baby's back as you both cradle her to your chest.

"She's so perfect," he whispers against your temple before kissing you there lightly, "I really can't believe she's here."

You both sit quietly, just taking in your first moments as a family of three until she starts to stir a bit and begins sucking on her hand.

"I think she's ready to eat," you say quietly as Mason calls for the nurse to come in.

He starts to get out of the bed when she comes in until you grab his arm, "just stay here, I'm more comfortable with you beside me," you smile at him.

He wraps his arm back around you and settles back at your side while the nurse helps you get your daughter latched on and eating.

"Let her eat as long as she wants to, if you get uncomfortable or need help switching her to the other side let me know," she smiles before leaving you alone again.

"You're so amazing, y/n, I'm so proud of you, I don't think I've ever seen you look as beautiful as you do right now," he speaks quiet words of affirmation to you while you're feeding her for the first time.

"Thank you, Mason, for everything, you've been wonderful this entire time, I couldn't have made it without you," you smile up at him.

"My girls," he whispers as he strokes his thumb over her head and squeezes you a little tighter before placing a soft kiss to your lips.

Once she's finished eating, the midwife comes in to check on you and offers to help you to the toilet.

"Mason, would you like to do skin to skin?" and before she even finishes her statement he's whipping his shirt off and tossing it across the room.

You both chuckle at him as you place her on his chest and cover them both with the blanket.

"I'm pretty sure you whipping your shirt off is what got us here in the first place," you grin at him.

"I think it was the other way around," he winks at you.

After you've been to the bathroom, the midwife brings in a couple of sandwiches and snacks for you both to eat.

"Mase," you say between bites, looking at him with your daughter sleeping soundly on his chest, "I know I just pushed a baby out not too long ago, but I'm so turned on seeing you with her right now," you smile shyly at him.

"I'll keep that in mind for later," he chuckles, watching as she wraps her tiny hand around his finger.

"I'm in so much trouble," he sighs, "she's gonna get away with everything, and I'm going to spoil her rotten."

"Well if you spoil her more than you do me, you might need another job or two," you lean against him, holding up one of the sandwiches for him to take a bite of.

"We should probably let people know she's here," he mumbles as he swallows his food, "I didn't even tell anyone you'd gone into labor."

"Let's wait just a little longer, I'm kind of enjoying having the two of you all to myself for now," you speak through a yawn.

"Why don't you take a nap, I'll be here, just staring at her," he says as he leans his head over on yours.

"Okay, but wake me up if you get sleepy, and I'll trade with you," you yawn again.

"Get some rest pretty girl, you've earned it," he kisses you on the top of the head before you drift off.

You wake from your nap a little while later when the baby starts to stir, you feed her while Mason makes a few calls letting your families and close friends know that she's here and everyone is doing well before you both settle in for the night.

The next morning, you are released to go home. Even though the midwife gives you the option to stay one more night, you want nothing more than to retreat to the comfort of your own home.

As you are filling in her the birth certificate prior to leaving you look over at Mason, "I guess it's really time for us to finalize her name," you smile at him.

While you'd both narrowed down a short list, you had decided you wanted to meet her before making the final decision.

"Would it be cheesy if we make her middle name something Christmas related?" you smile over to him while he balances her on his knees, just staring at her while she sleeps.

"So we've settled on Isla, correct?" he glances up to you before looking back down at her.

"Mmm" you hum in agreement, twirling the pen you are holding in your hand.

"How about Noelle as her middle name?" he smiles at her as she stirs slightly before smiling in her sleep.

"I think she likes it," he grins at you.

"Me too, pretty name for a pretty girl," you grin back at him.

The drive home is slow, as Mason refuses to drive the actual speed limit. You don't fuss at him, though, its incredibly sweet how protective he is of both of you.

Once you are at home, he takes over taking care of everything he can, refusing to let you lift a finger for more than feeding your daughter.

Mason misses a couple more days of training and a match to stay home with you, but you can tell he's getting antsy. He's not used to not being busy with work obligations and while you are grateful for his help and support, you also know he needs to get out of the house.

"Mase, I think you should go to training for a bit in the morning," you smile at him as you climb into bed beside him.

"No, I don't want to leave you," he shakes his head.

"I know, baby, but I can tell you are getting restless. At least go in for a couple of hours, we will be fine, I promise."

You watch as he mulls it over in his head.

"Maybe just for the outdoor work on the pitch, I can do the cardio and weight training here," he flashes you a smile.

Your days are consumed by caring for Isla, Mason does all he can to balance trying to get back into training with helping you at home.

He makes the extra effort to help with getting things together for Christmas, picking up groceries and trying to honor the traditions the two of you have.

One evening, as you are watching a Christmas movie and enjoying the cookies the two of you had baked earlier, he looks over and notices you've started crying.

"Y/N, baby, what's wrong?" he asks as he pauses the movie.

"I've just realized Christmas is only a couple of days away and I haven't finished my shopping and wrapping, and I didn't even buy her anything Christmassy to wear because I didn't think she would be here yet" you sob, suddenly overwhelmed.

He wraps his arms around you and kisses you on top of the head, "stay here, I'll be right back."

He disappears and then returns a few minutes later with a few bags in his hands.

"I picked up a couple of things the other day when I was out," he smiles at you, handing you the shopping bags.

You open them to find that he's bought matching pajamas for the three of you for Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, as well as a Christmas dress for Isla, a few cream color baby outfits and a blanket that says "Baby's First Christmas" on it.

"I noticed you looking at those a couple of weeks ago when we were out shopping," he smiles as you admire the things he picked up.

"You're too good to me," you let the tears fall from your eyes again.

He wipes them away gently and kisses you lightly on the lips, "you've given me everything I've ever wanted, it's the least I could do, sweetheart."

"Thank you," you choke out, "I'm sure it's just the hormones making me emotional."

The next morning after he's left for training, you hear a knock at the door. You hear chattering outside before you can open it, but as soon as you do you hear "Auntie, Y/N" as Summer squeals and then wraps her arms around your legs.

To your surprise, you find Mason's mother and sister and nieces standing outside.

You usher them in before Jazmine wraps you in a hug.

"We're sorry to show up unannounced, but Mase called last night worried about you," Debbie pulls you into an embrace after Jazmine.

"He said you needed help finishing up Christmas things," Jaz adds.

You nod, "I got a bit overwhelmed last night, I'm sure it scared him."

"He just wants to take care of his girls," Debbie smiles at you, "so put us to work, whatever you need.

"Thank you both, I'm sure you've got plenty to be doing yourselves, you didn't need to make the trip up here," you smile, thankful for the trouble they've gone to.

"Nonsense," Debbie grins, "any excuse to come and see that gorgeous baby works for me."

They had been here a couple of days after you had gotten home from the hospital, everyone eager to meet the new addition to the family.

Your mom is planning to come and stay a few days after the New Year since that's when you previously expected to go into labor.

"Mum is going to stay here with you and the girls, I'm going to run into the city to finish picking up whatever you need, if you can just let me know where you need me to go," Jaz offers.

You chat while they admire, Isla and you finish up your shopping list before Jazmine sets off.

While she's gone, Debbie helps you to wrap the gifts you already have that aren't wrapped and showers you with compliments over how well you are doing with everything and you have to admit it is nice to hear.

She arrives back to your house with the items she's picked up for you as well as dinner for you and Mason.

She cuddles her new niece while you wrap the last few gifts and spend a few minutes playing with your nieces.

Once they are sure you are feeling better about everything, they bundle up the girls and leave, heading back home after serving as your elves for a few hours.

Mason arrives home in the early afternoon to find you napping on the sofa with Isla in the bassinet next to you. He takes a few minutes to admire you while you sleep, never having felt more in awe of you and the way you've handled transitioning into this new role so flawlessly.

On Christmas Eve morning you wake to find Mason gone from the bed, you glance around and realize he must have gotten up with the baby and left you to sleep a little longer. You make your way downstairs to the living room and find him sleeping on the sofa with Isla snoozing on his chest. You take a few pictures of them, both sleeping with the Christmas tree glowing behind them and you've honestly never felt so content and in love in your entire life.

You make coffee for the two of you and gently wake Mason up.

"Morning, daddy" you grin at him sitting your coffee down before taking Isla and placing her in her basinette.

You hand him his mug as you sit down beside him, "you know my brain realizes I'm actually someone's daddy now, but my dick doesn't," he chuckles before leaning over and giving you a kiss.

Later in the afternoon Mason's family arrive to celebrate Christmas Eve and stay the night just as they always have. You enjoy your normal family traditions with them over the evening and next day; eating, opening presents, making cookies and playing games.

As Christmas Day draws to an end, your heart is full from spending the day enjoying Isla's first Christmas surrounded by those you love. When Deb offers to be on baby duty for the night, saying she will bring her to you when she needs to eat but otherwise let you and Mason get some much needed rest, you reluctantly give in knowing you could use some alone time together.

"Babe," you call out from your closet as you make a final adjustment to the red satin pajamas you put on, you're not quite ready for lingerie yet, but you admire your post baby curves and the way your breasts spill out of the top of the camisole you're wearing, knowing Mason will enjoy the way you look as well.

"Yeah," he answers and it sounds like he's in the bed.

"Could you do me a favor and sit on the end of the bed and close your eyes," you call back to him, "I have one more gift for you," you grin in anticipation.

"Ok," he answers a bit puzzled.

"You there?" You call back.

"Yep," he chuckles.

"No peeking," you smile at him as you look around the door to make sure he followed your directions.

You walk over to him, gently taking his hands and placing them on your hips while you stand between his legs and rest your hands on his shoulders.

"Okay, you can open them" you whisper.

He opens his eyes and the look on his face is one that you hope you won't forget anytime soon. His eyes are full of wonder and love, mixed with a flair of lust and heat.

"Jesus baby, you look incredible, what's this all about?" he grins up at you.

"Well, I figure I've been on the nice list all day, but I kind of want to end the night on the naughty list," you wink at him.

"I didn't think we could, you know..." he trails off and knits his eyebrows together.

"We can't, yet, but I've noticed your showers have been extra long lately, and just because some things are off limits doesn't mean all things are off limits," you lean down to kiss him hungrily.

He raises his eyebrows as you pull a red satin ribbon from beside him and move to cover his eyes with it.

"One last look" you wink at him as his eyes rake up and and down your body before you blindfold him.

"You are naughty," he chuckles to himself.

"I haven't even gotten started yet, babe" you smile at his eagerness as you settle on your knees in front of him.

You kiss along his chest and abdomen, flicking your tongue along the smattering of hairs just below his navel before he jerks his hips involuntarily.

"Patience baby," you smile against him as you slip your hands in the waistband of his pajama pants and slide them down his legs when he lifts his hips for you.

"Have you not had on underwear all day," you ask him as you take his hardened length in your hand and enjoy the quiet gasp that escapes his lips.

"Nope," he breathes out stifling a moan as you flick your tongue over his tip lapping at the precum that has already collected there.

"If I'd have known that I would've given you your present earlier," you whisper before licking a stripe along the vein on the underside of his shaft.

"Oh god, baby," he moans as everything seems more sensitive without being able to see what you're doing.

"Mase you're going to have to try to be quiet," you chuckle, "we do still have guests."

"Got it, I'll try, but I can't make any promises," he groans as his head tips back when you take him in your mouth and begin to slowly work him just the way you know he likes it.

You alternate bobbing your head with swirling your tongue around his tip, working what won't fit in your mouth with your hands. He places one hand on the back of your head to steady your pace and to ground himself a little.

"So good baby" he breathes out, "so so good."

You glance up to see him with his head back as he's still blindfolded, his chest rising and falling as he tries to keep himself quiet.

You take more of him into your mouth, gagging as his tip hits the back of your throat.

You continue working him, letting him feel the tip of his cock in your cheek when he grazes his fingers along your jaw.

"So perfect," he bites his lower lip.

"Can you take a bit more for me?" he pleads as you relax your jaw and take as much of him into your mouth as you can.

"God, yes, that's it baby, so good for me," he groans when you hollow out your cheeks and suck harder as you pull back off of him a little.

"I'm close," his head falls back again as you drop extra spit down his cock and work him with your hands.

"Come on, Mase, cum for me, I want every drop of it."

You swirl your tongue around his tip again before taking him fully into your mouth and running your tongue along his shaft.

"Fuck, y/n" he moans as his abs contract and he shudders and releases himself into your mouth.

As his breathing slows you reach up and pull the ribbon from his eyes, allowing him to see you on your knees in front of him, with his cum on your tongue before you swallow all of if and wipe what spilled from your lip and chin with your thumb.

"Just when I didn't think today could get any better, you pull something like this out of your bag," he grins as he pulls you to your feet and then into his lap.

"I'm full of surprises," you chuckle before you kiss him deeply, allowing him to taste himself.

"This has been the best Christmas," he smiles as he lays his head against your chest.

"Because of the blow job?" you giggle.

"Well, I mean, I've got no complaints there, but because it's just been such a good day with our new little family. You're so incredible, you've handled everything so well and I'm so proud of you and fall more and more in love with you every single day," he glances up to see the tears in your eyes.

"I love you, Mase, I'm couldn't do any of this without you, you've been amazing," you lean down to kiss him gently.

"Merry Christmas, baby" you smile against his lips before he falls back on the bed and pulls you close to him.

"Merry Christmas, love," he whispers.

Taglist:

@neverinadream @chilwellsancho@pulisicsgirl @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @xjval

[hysterikan]

Good morning (Damon Albarn x Reader)

I've had this in my drafts for AGES and I finally decided to clean it up (and against my better knowledge post it lol) I apologize for any spelling and/or grammatical errors as english isn't my first language and it hasn't been beta-read by anyone. Anyways, I hope you will enjoy and if you did it would make my day if you leave a comment or reblog it! I also uploaded it to my AO3 here

Summary: Reader has a wet dream about Alex and somehow her boyfriend Damon finds out, but doesn't seem to be as upset as she thought he would be. As a matter in fact he might even like it

Wordcount: 3,277

Warnings: SMUT

She felt his teeth drag along her collarbone, making her shudder and then suddenly the sharp pain of his bite, making each nerve ending in her body crackle like a little firework. 

Letting out a sound halfway between a squeal and giggle, she grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging on it harshly. 

 He groaned and looked up from her chest, his brown eyes glazed over. He had covered her breasts in dark purple hickies and red teeth marks, nipping and biting every centimeter of skin.

“Alex.” She whispered softly, slowly grinding on him where she sat in his lap. Both of them gasped at the movement, his cock twitched inside of her and he gripped her hips hard.

He reached up to take her jaw in his hand, thumb dragging over her lip as her eyes fluttered shut and mouth fell open. 

She could feel how his thighs tensed up under her and she knew with a little more teasing he would let her have her way. 

“Alex,” She moaned again, opening her eyes as his name fell from her swollen lips and looking directly into his. His mouth twitched before he kissed her, harsh and nibbling with sharp teeth.

Carefully he leaned her back, getting on top of her while still kissing her. There was both gentleness and a feverish need in his movements. 

They both shuddered, and she moaned when she felt his chest pressing against hers and how his hair brushed over her shoulder as he leaned in to kiss her neck. She wrapped her legs around him, never wanting to let go when she felt him sink deeper inside her. 

With slow thrusts and featherlight kisses he teased her, coaxing out whiny moans from her. Alex chuckled breathlessly when she mewled, clawing at his back and she reached down to his ass, trying to push him further into her. 

He got the hint, he just wanted to hear her say it.

“Tell me what you want.” He whispered. His voice low and gravely in her ear, making her skin prickle and her walls throb around him.

“I want you-, I want you to fuck me.” She answered in breathy moans, catching his lips in a slow sloppy kiss. 

He obliged, slowly picking up speed in his thrusts. 

Her hands found their way into his hair, tugging on it relentlessly, knowing it would drive him mad. 

And it did. 

He pinned down her hands, making her let out anexhilarated giggle and he couldn’t hold back his own smile. 

Her smile soon faded into a little o-shape as he started thrusting his hips harder and harder, drawing a loud gasp out of her with each thrust.

She felt dizzy from the pleasure, she didn’t know where he started and she ended, all she knew was him in her and his voice as he moaned her name, his sweat covered body that pressed against hers and the safe pressure of his hands on her wrists.

“Alex, ‘m gonna- ” She cried out, clenching her thighs and writhing, her entire body aching to cum.

 To cum for him. To cum on him.

“Bloody hell.” he whined, feeling her clench around him and hearing her needy cries brought him closer to his own release. 

The orgasm washed over her without a warning and for a split second her mind went blank, the only thing that existed were her and Alex. 

With soblike moans she clawed at his back, her legs quivering around his waist as she came. Her back arched up, meeting Alex's hips as he came closer and closer to his own release, and he bit back a loud groan when she clenched hard around him. 

Alex's breath was ragged as he saw her, still shuddering and moaning. With a last hard thrust that made her whimper, still high on her orgasm, his brow furrowed and his body rippled as he came, whimpering her name.

It took her a second to realize where she was, with Alexs' loud moans still ringing in her mind. She was in her bedroom, with Damon next to her in their bed. 

The sunlight that filtered in through the blinds made little golden lines over his naked back that rose and fell with his steady breathing.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, almost hearing her heartbeat in her ears. Slowly she reached a hand down, and gasped. Her underwear was soaked through, the wetness even staining the inside of her thighs.

Drawing another shuddering breath she realized she must’ve had an orgasm in her sleep. 

With burning cheeks she came to another conclusion, that in the dream she had been cumming on her boyfriend's best mate's cock. 

She pulled her hand up and feeling a wave of shame wash over her, she closed her eyes. 

It had felt so real, and she could still hear Alex's moans and teasing whispers as he thrusted into her. His lips, searing kisses on her skin, his hands-

A sudden movement next to her made her open her eyes to see Damon sleepily pull the covers closer around him. 

His hair was messy, with his mouth and cheeks flushed from sleep and it made her heart tremble. 

She reached out a hand, softly stroking it over his cheek, making him stirr and eyes flutter open. 

“Good morning” She whispered and smiled softly when he groaned low, closing his eyes to shield them from the light that sneaked past the blinds.

Damon hummed, eyes still closed as he reached out for her and she chuckled as she crawled into his embrace, nuzzling her face against his neck. 

“Did you sleep well?” He murmured as he stroked her hair. His voice was low and hoarse from sleep, making her heart jump. It was ridiculously sexy. 

“Yeah” She mumbled into the crook of his neck and closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of him. His scent with a little left of yesterday's eau de cologne sent a warm current through her body, down between her thighs. 

 Damon drew circles with his fingertips over her back, nuzzling his nose against her hairline and inhaled. 

“You talk in your sleep, did you know that?” He murmured and her eyes snapped open.

“Oh?” Was all she could muster, voice faint.

“You said Alex’s name.” 

It felt as if her heart stopped and she felt her lungs tightening up with shame.

 She looked up at him, and could see a slight smirk on his face. 

“What?” 

“You said Alex.” He repeated, stroking her cheek, his fingertips following her jaw down to her lips.

“Did I?” She felt her cheeks flush and Damon raised an eyebrow, still smiling. 

“Yeah,” His thumb rubbed her lower lip as he licked his own, making her stomach summersault.

“Did you dream of him?”

She swallowed, looked away and felt the blush on her cheeks betray her. 

“I don't really know. I don’t remember much.” She looked at Damon again as he kept stroking her cheek. He leaned down, their lips brushing against each others as he whispered;

“You know, I heard you moan, love. You moaned his name.” 

Her breath hitched in shock but Damon caught her little gasp in a kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth and before she knew it she gripped his bicep, biting and nibbling on his lower lip. 

 She could feel his hard on pressing against her stomach and how his heart pounded in his chest, almost forcing hers to beat in the same rhythm. The warm tingling feeling from her dream washed over her again, and she could feel her entire ache and long for his touch. 

Damon pulled away too soon, his cheeks flushed and his breath ragged as he tried to compose himself. He stroked back a stray strand of hair from her face as he cleared his throat, smiling:

“Now my love, tell me about your dream.” 

She bit her lip, a stern tone in his voice that she had never heard before, and it made her heart flutter and press her thighs together.

“Well, we were kissing.” She whispered, remembering Alex’s panting breath as he kissed her. 

Damon licked his lips as he leaned in, ghosting his lips above hers.

 “Yeah?” His breath tickled over her cheek and it sent shivers down her spine.

 “And he kissed my neck.” She moaned. 

 “How did it feel?” 

 “It felt good.” 

His breath hitched, and she could feel how his cock throbbed against her, making her gasp.

 “And then what?” 

 “He...” She blushed furiously, biting her lip and he couldn't tell if she was just playing innocent or if she was actually a bit embarrassed to say the words out loud. 

 Damon's breath hitched again, his pupils dilated and his heart pounding. He couldn’t understand why, but her dream turned him on so much. It sent a sting of jealousy through him, yes, but it was outweighed by the forbidden and intoxicicating thought of one of his best mates shagging his girlfriend. 

 “You shagged him?” He whispered barely audible, his lips brushing over the shell of her ear. The hot breath made her skin prickle and she felt her nipples harden under the shirt she wore to bed.

 “Yes.” She whined, closing her eyes as he pulled up said shirt, and softly stroked his hand down her stomach.

 “Did you like it?” His voice was low, and she could only moan yes as his fingers passed the lining of her underwear. His teasing, the embarrassment and excitement of him knowing about the dream, the dream itself, it was all making her clit throb.

 “You liked having Alex inside you, didn’t you? You liked fucking him, didn’t you, love?” 

As he almost hissed out that last question his hand dipped down between her folds. 

He gasped when he felt that she was soaked and she bit back a yelp, the light pressure of his hand enough to send crackling electric currents throughout her body.

 “Damon.” She whined, feeling his arms wrap around her and the way he pressed her against him made her shudder. He leaned in to kiss her, his kisses almost bruising and sloppier than before, little moans and pants escaping as she tugged at her shirt. 

He pulled down her undies, throwing them across the room which earned a giggle from her as they landed on the table lamp on the desk.

 “Get these off!” She groaned and tugged on his boxers, her mouth watering when she saw his cock twitch through the fabric. God he was so hard. 

“As you wish,” He smirked and pulled them down. A low smacking sound as his heavy hard on hit his abdomen made her bite her lip in anticipation. For a few seconds all she could do was stare at him where he laid, naked and on display for her. 

 “Stop staring.” He groaned, a faint blush dusting his cheeks, and she giggled, crawling up to him and he immediately pulled her close to him, his lips crashing onto hers.

She moaned into his mouth, nipping at his lower lip with her teeth as she felt his hand stroke down her naked body, pushing her onto his back.

“Did he make you this wet?” he murmured against her lips, as his fingers trailed down between her legs to lightly brush over her throbbing clit. 

 Between little breathy moans she managed to get out;

 “No, it’s you.” 

He lightly pressed his finger against her clit again, making her quiver. The ache was unbearable. 

 “I need you in me.” She begged and looked up at him with hazy eyes.

 He looked at her, her lips swollen and glistening with saliva and if he hadn’t been so eager to be inside her, fucking her senseless until she forgot about that dream, and about Alex of all bloody people, he would’ve loved to see those lips around his cock. 

Slowly he pushed a finger into her, making her suck in a sharp breath he teased;

 “Like this?”

 She couldn’t form an answer, her mind went completely blank and without noticing she whimpered his name. He watched her flutter shut and then close completely when he pushed in another finger, wanting to hear her make that deliciously needy moan again.

Slowly pumped them in and out, looking at her as he did and felt his cock twitch as he saw her bite her lip in an attempt to suppress a loud moan.

His mouth brushed against the shell of her ear and sent tickling shivers through her. Just as she let out a shaky moan he pulled out his fingers, making her whine at the loss of contact and she was just about to loudly complain when he pressed them to her clit instead, rubbing firm but slow circles. 

 “Oh God” she clutched her hand behind his neck, feeling his hot breath on her face as he laughed softly. He nibbled on her lip and chin as he continued to rub harder and faster. 

The room was filled with sounds of his kisses, her wetness, their heavy breathing and her loud sob like moans. 

She rocked her hips against his fingers, her moans getting louder and needier and god she was so close that she clawed his neck, she could feel herself tense up, cunt aching for the release. A mental image of Alex on top of her, deep in her as he groaned flashed by, but then her eyes fluttered open as Damon moaned when she squelched over his fingers. 

She was millimeters from the edge when he suddenly stopped. With cheeks flushed and breath stuck in her throat she almost screamed:

 “Wh-, what the fuck Damon, why did you stop?”

God she was so beautiful like this. Animalistic almost and completely unhinged.

 “Do you want me to continue?”

 “Yes!”  

He tapped his finger against her clit again and smiled when she threw her head back and moaned.

 “Ask for it.” He whispered and that alone was almost enough to make her cum.

 “Please Damon, please, let me cum.”

Almost instantly he resumed rubbing her clit, making her back arch and she cried out his name over and over, so close that she forgot every other word. All she could think of was him, him, him.

 “Damon!”

Her cries and moans made his breath hitch as he saw how she came undone for him and he groaned between clenched teeth;

 “Cum for me.” And she did.

With a moan that was almost a scream she fell apart and became a blabbering, whimpering mess in his hands. She sobbed his name, head spinning and heart pounding so loud in her ears she could barely hear him whispering her name 

He stroked slowly but firmly over her clit until she pushed his hand away, her voice quivering as she let out a broken whisper;

“I can’t-, I can’t do another.” Making him chuckle and through her foggy brain she could muster a weak smile.

Damon looked at her where she lay with her tendrils of hair clinging to her forehead, a slight sheen of sweat covering her chest and her cheeks blossoming with a deep crimson blush.

“Was that good?”

She chuckled, still not sure how to get back to breathing normally and smiled;

“Do you really have to ask?”

Leaning in until their lips brushed and his breath tickled he teased;

“I just wanted to hear you say it.” before licking her lips and kissing her. 

She felt his cock twitch against her thigh and suddenly the flame she thought had been doused started flickering. Acting on instinct she bit his lower lip, hard, making him gasp and she wondered if maybe she had been too harsh when he pulled away, his eyes huge but then a smirk formed on his perfect lips.

Rising on shaky elbows she laughed as she said;

“Don’t you wanna finish?” tilting her head to her side.

“Looks like you might need it.” She nodded towards his cock, dripping precum, red and swollen. The warm pooling in her stomach threatened to scorch her when he raised a brow, stroking himself and inching closer to her.

“You think so?” 

Biting her lip she nodded, opening her trembling legs and looking him up and down. He pulled her down to him, making her gasp as she fell on her back and then giggled at his sudden roughness. He looked at her, his pupils blown out and his chest falling and rising as he gripped her thigh hard.

Slapping the head of his cock against her clit he hissed and she bit back a whimper, feeling herself tremble in his grasp. She was a bit sore from her earlier orgasm but it didn’t matter as he slowly pushed into her, both of them gasping.

“Fuuuck” He groaned, feeling her clench around him and she shuddered at the slight over stimulation.

“You okay?” He panted and stroked her hips, pulling her down onto him slowly.

“Uh-huh.” She hummed before adding; “Please.”

Her quivering voice, dripping with lust and pleading eyes made him snap. There was nothing he wanted as much as making her scream his name again, begging and moaning, only this time she would be dripping all over him.

He moaned, wrapping his arm under her hips and hoisting her up so that he could thrust into her at whatever pace he pleased.

“Please.” She whispered again, her hands on his back, clawing.

Damon's hips snapped up, the pace he set was hard and unforgiving and with each thrust she whimpered loudly. 

He couldn’t think of anything else but how her body moved with his, the sweat covering them both, her whining and moaning and how much he loved her.

“Oh fuckin’ hell, you feel so good, fuck” He moaned, leaning in to kiss her. It was a sloppy kiss, their lips barely touching as he sped up his thrusts. 

She reached up, carding her fingers through his flaxen of hair and tugging on it slightly, making him moan and bend his neck back. Knowing he couldn’t hold it for long he closed his eyes and focused on her gasping breaths, the smell of sex, the wet slapping noises and the burning sensation in his stomach. 

“Cum in me” She moaned, her breath hitching when Damon leaned his forehead against her shoulder, his breath tickling over her neck and she raked her nails down his back. 

His breaths got shorter and shorter, his thighs tensing up, the warm coil in his abdomen burning, and when she locked her legs on his lower back, pushing him deeper in, he came. His mind went blank as he thrust into her, making the orgasm last as long as possible and she kissed his ear, nibbling at it and whispering: 

“I love you” over and over. 

With a moan and a string of profanities he relaxed, shuddering and with heavy breaths.

She stroked his back, trying to slow down her racing heart and erratic breathing. She didn’t know how long he laid there, nuzzling his face to her neck as his breathing slowly became normal again, but she enjoyed every second of it.

Carefully he pushed himself up on his elbows, smiling slightly and running a hand through her messy hair.

“Well, good morning to you too.” She said and smiled up at him, stroking his arm softly.

“Good morning indeed. Wanna join me in the shower?”

“Yes please.” 

He leaned in to kiss her, muttering, “I love you” which made her heart jump. Before pulling away completely he added with a cheeky grin:

“So for the next round I’ll call in Alex?”

“Damon!”

[woradat]

SCENARIO: The Field Butcher

PAIRING - scavenger x reader

NOTE - the draft of Dear Memory suddenly disappeared.. luckily I had a backup in my doc, btw I decided to post this instead..

The air stank of scorched energon and melted armor, thick with iron dust stirred by a dying breeze. Somewhere near the perimeter of yesterday’s battlefield, you’d set up your ‘clinic’ — if one could call a dented shipping container with rusted med-kits and jury-rigged tables a clinic

You never thought you'd end up being a "doctor"

Not because you didn’t dream of it—but mostly because the term “medical ethics” meant absolutely nothing to you

What you did know was this: torn-up bots were fascinating. Especially when you got to crack them open and see what was ticking inside

You started small

Salvaging bits and pieces from the battlefield outskirts, selling them on the black market but anytime you found something new, you'd bring it back, clean it up, lay it out neatly on your table like collectible figurines…

Then tinker

Pry – Slice –Rewire

After that, you were hooked

You started studying Cybertronian anatomy for real

Through corpses. Through... well, let’s call them “patients” Most of them didn’t really have a choice and you learned through wild, reckless trial and error

It didn’t take long before they started whispering your name

Some said you were insane

Some said you were a genius

And honestly? You weren’t arguing with either

—

But hey, you’ve seen worse

Today’s patient wasn’t bleeding out — not anymore — but sat eerily still on the edge of your operating slab. SPINISTER didn’t speak a word. He simply watched

With those wide optics, tinted faintly with blue and wariness, he stared at your fingers as they hovered near the frayed conduits in his left arm. You traced one cable with your thumb, then flicked it experimentally. The response: a slight twitch in his elbow

“Hmm…” you murmured, mostly to yourself “That shouldn't spasm unless—ah. Rerouted nerves. Or maybe just leftover trauma from the last missile strike”

Spinister said nothing, his head tilted faintly, almost birdlike, curious, not afraid, not quite trusting, either

Your grin curled up as you pulled a box cutter from your belt. Not a surgical tool — a literal box cutter. You flicked it open with a shnick “Don’t worry. I’ve carved cleaner lines through Decepticon corpses than this.” You winked “This won’t be the worst thing to happen to your arm this week”

Still, he didn’t flinch

You began slicing carefully through the plating at his forearm, easing metal apart with steady hands. The smell of energon and scorched silicon rose up, comforting in its own grotesque way. Spinister kept watching

“You know” you added, conversationally “the first time I tried this, I was working on a dead guy. Well, he was mostly dead. Only his backup battery was still twitching. Sort of like you, except you’re a lot more agreeable”

At that, he blinked once. You could’ve sworn he smirked

Your eyes narrowed in interest “Wait a second... have you done this before?”

No answer — but Spinister reached forward and picked up your wire shears. Delicately. Like he knew how to hold them. He turned them in his hands and adjusted the tension

You raised a brow “You’re either a closet medic or a highly specific kind of serial killer”

He gave a tiny shrug. Then pointed at the junction in his own elbow, looking at you as if to say: "Cut here?"

“…Huh”

You moved aside “Be my guest”

He went to work with silent focus, slicing away burnt cabling and clearing the joint. His movements weren’t flawless — but they were clean, deliberate, and scarily competent for someone who hadn’t said a damn word all afternoon

You folded your arms, watching

“Alright, I’ve decided” you announced “You’re hired. No license needed. Field experience counts more anyway”

Spinister paused to glance at you - you pointed to yourself “Me? Oh, I’m self-taught too. I just have a different definition of malpractice”

Then you handed him a full energon injector “You mind stabbing me with this? My hand’s full”

He took it and administered it with surprising precision

You made a pleased noise “Oh-ho. You are good”

Silence again. Spinister just stared, expression unreadable

You could practically feel the static hanging between you. The buzz of barely understood connection. Maybe it was the shared love of sharp things. Or the unspoken language of: “I won’t kill you if you don’t kill me”

“Say, Spinister. You wanna stick around? I’ve got a few other, uh… experiments. Some of them might even survive”

He cocked his head, considering

Then — a slow, solemn nod

You grinned “Perfect. I’ve been dying to try out this new cranial implant. Might give you night vision. Or seizures. Fifty-fifty, really”

Still no protest — Not even hesitation

You weren’t sure if that meant he trusted you… or just didn’t care. Either way?

You liked him

↓

SUBJECT PATIENT RECORD

DESIGNATION: SPINISTER

AFFILIATION: Scavenger (No one's entirely sure why)

CONDITION: Moderate external trauma. Multiple internal combustions (intentional?). Severe disassociation from reality

NOTES BY ATTENDING FIELD PRACTITIONER (still not licensed, please stop asking)

Arrived with smoke leaking from six different panels. Declared “not an emergency” while visibly on fire

Did not react to pain, or to questions, or to gravity when he slowly tilted sideways mid-sentence and collapsed

Possesses an endearing sort of calm, similar to a patient who’s just accepted the existence of death and made it a roommate

Followed instructions silently, then offered me a flower-shaped bolt in thanks. I don’t know where he got it

Repair successful. Patient now smokes from only three ports. Declared “this is probably fine”

RECOMMENDATION: Skilled with basic tools, potential assistant or at least live test subject (consenting? uncertain) and doesn’t scream when I bring out the bone saw — major plus

MENTAL STATUS: Stable… in an abstract, modern-art kind of way

Possibly communicating with beings only he can perceive. Should investigate later—unless they start helping

—

The curtain fluttered again

You didn’t even need to look up from the mech-slagged mess you were currently disemboweling on your table to know who it was. No one else announced their arrival with a loud “Hi!! I brought snacks!” followed immediately by the sound of a ration cube hitting the floor

MISFIRE

“...You brought what?” you asked, finally glancing back

Misfire was standing proudly in the middle of your wrecked, haphazard med-bay, holding up something that might’ve once been a ration cube but now looked like it had been drop-kicked into a trash compactor

He looked far too pleased with himself

“For you, Doctor Scary!” he beamed “To say thank you for patching up Crankcase. I mean, he’s still swearing about it, but I figure that means it worked”

You stared at the cube, then at him “It’s moldy”

“Vintage!”

“It’s fuzzy”

He blinked, then squinted at it “Oh. Uh. That might be a fungus. Adds flavor!”

You sighed and set down your plier-like tool — which was currently half-submerged in someone’s damaged voice modulator “What do you want, Misfire?”

He clutched his arm and gave you the most over-the-top wounded expression you’d seen since the war started “Can’t a guy drop by just to bask in your lovely, mildly terrifying company?”

You deadpanned “Do you need field repair?”

“…Yes”

That was more like it

“Alright” you gestured to your very sanitary examination area — a broken recliner salvaged from a half-melted shuttle and duct-taped to hell “Take a seat. Tell me which part is falling off”

Misfire hopped onto the chair without hesitation, then winced “Okay so it’s my right shoulder—some internal gear’s jammed. Probably happened when Fulcrum accidentally shoved me into that munitions crate last week. And by accidentally I mean ‘on purpose but with plausible deniability’”

You circled behind him, humming “Shoulder joint, hmm... I’ll have to pry open the outer casing”

“You’re not gonna use that claw-thing again, are you?” He pointed at the three-pronged tool still sizzling on the table

You picked it up and grinned “This old thing? Only if you scream too loud. It gets jealous”

His optics widened “Wait, you’re joking—right?”

You didn’t answer. You just flicked the tool and leaned in close

He flinched “You are joking. Right?”

Still no answer. You tapped the casing lightly “Yup. Gonna need to open this. Try not to move. Unless you want an extra joint”

Misfire grumbled something but sat still, occasionally twitching while you worked. Your fingers were efficient, tugging apart armor panels, probing with delicate instruments, and casually muttering things like: “Wow, this is worse than I thought. This looks like someone tried to replace a gear with a coin. Wait. Is that a coin?”

Misfire laughed nervously “Heh… oh hey, is that my lucky shanix? Thought I lost that in the riot on Velocitron…”

You pulled it out and twirled it between your fingers “Found it. Inside your shoulder. Next to a wad of insulation foam. I have questions”

“I have regrets”

The actual repair only took a few minutes, and despite his dramatic flinching, Misfire barely needed any anesthetic. You tightened the final bolt with a satisfied hum

“All done. You’ll be good as new. Maybe even better, depending on how you feel about unlicensed upgrades”

He rotated his arm “Wow, hey—this feels great! I mean, I’m still emotionally unstable and deeply unlucky, but physically? Ten outta ten”

You handed him the shanix and gave him a crooked smile “Souvenir. For bravery”

He smirked “Does that come with a kiss on the cheekplate?”

You stared at him for a beat too long

“…No?” he tried

You leaned in just slightly, close enough for him to short-cycle “You want a souvenir kiss from the bot who’s elbow-deep in your shoulder hydraulics?”

He paused. Thought. Then leaned back slowly, optics wide

“…You know what? The coin’s fine”

You laughed — a bright, buzzing thing that made him fluster even more

“I’ll tell Fulcrum you survived” you said, already turning back to your workbench “Go before I decide to install a third elbow in your leg”

He scrambled up and halfway out the curtain before popping his head back in with a grin

“You’re the weirdest medic I’ve ever met” he said “And that’s a huge compliment”

Then he vanished into the dust

↓

SUBJECT PATIENT RECORD

DESIGNATION: MISFIRE

AFFILIATION: Scavenger (Allegedly. No one seems to have formally admitted this)

CONDITION: Repeated joint trauma. Psychological instability. Chronic flirtation disorder (self-diagnosed)

NOTES BY ATTENDING FIELD PRACTITIONER (unlicensed):

Presented with shoulder malfunction. Initially distracted by moldy ration cube (believed to be edible)

Displayed minor signs of emotional detachment from own physical pain—possibly due to prolonged exposure to Fulcrum’s company

Right shoulder casing contained one (1) lucky shanix, insulation foam of unknown origin, and what may be a chewed gum wrapper. (Origin undetermined. No jaw articulation in subject)

Exhibits nervous laughter and deflective humor under duress. Coping mechanism? Flirting mechanism? Both?

Repair successful. Patient demonstrates increased mobility and decreased survivability due to persistent attempts at charming his field medic

RECOMMENDATION: Do not encourage him but also… maybe do. He’s kind of entertaining

MENTAL STATUS: Stable. In the way a spinning top is “stable” Until it stops spinning

—

FULCRUM walked into the clinic with the same air as someone entering a crime scene they were legally obligated to ignore. He stood in the doorway a few moments too long

“…You’re not going to sedate me, right?”

You didn’t look up from your tools “Only if you scream too much. I do have neighbors”

“You don’t have neighbors”

“Exactly”

He stiffened

With a resigned sigh, Fulcrum sat himself down on the edge of the slab, his posture the definition of regret “I’m here for a system check. Minor internal trauma. No visible wounds”

“Oh” you said, finally looking up

“That’s boring”

“…What?”

You gestured at his chestplate “You’re saying there’s nothing exciting going on in there? No ticking bomb module? No internal shrapnel slowly migrating toward your spark?”

Fulcrum visibly paled “I—I’m 80% sure the ticking is just cooling fans!”

You leaned in, optics gleaming

“Let’s find out”

Before he could object, you’d already activated the scanner, which buzzed ominously. The screen flickered through static before displaying something that looked vaguely like a Danger symbol in three different dialects

“…Heh” you said, tilting your head “You might be fine. Or you might violently combust in 6 to 8 cycles. Either way, not my fault”

Fulcrum let out a strangled sound “You’re supposed to say something reassuring!”

“I did! ‘Not my fault’ is my version of reassurance”

He gave a long, slow blink

“…I’m going to die”

“Eventually” you nodded solemnly

“But for now—”

And with that, you jabbed a connector probe into his side. Fulcrum’s whole body jerked “—your coolant lines are backing up a little. Could’ve led to system overheating. Also explains why you’ve been radiating mild anxiety like a broken anxiety-scented air freshener”

He stared at you in mute horror “…Please tell me that wasn’t an actual medical term”

You grinned “I make them up as I go”

↓

SUBJECT PATIENT RECORD

DESIGNATION: FULCRUM AFFILIATION: Scavenger (Technically Decepticon, but mostly just stressed) CONDITION: Mild to moderate plasma burns, stress-induced fuel reflux, excessive shouting

NOTES BY ATTENDING FIELD PRACTITIONER (still operating without any actual credentials):

Arrived in full panic, claiming he was “totally fine” while actively smoldering. Body temperature elevated—not due to malfunction, just from yelling

Most vocal patient so far. Screamed “What is that tool?! Is that a bone saw?!” before treatment had even begun. (It was not. It was a wrench. Maybe) Kept mumbling something about “imminent death” and “this is how I die"

Calmed somewhat after being asked to hold tools for me. Gave him a fake diploma to “make him feel included” He still carries it

Treatment completed successfully. Requested anesthesia after it was done

RECOMMENDATION: Let him panic. It burns energy and makes it easier to sneak in sutures

Tell him he’s doing great. He’s not, but he needs it

MENTAL STATUS: Holding on by a wire. Possibly about to snap. Possibly the only one trying to be normal, which makes him the craziest of all

—

You didn’t expect CRANKCASE to walk through your door

Technically, it wasn’t even a door — just a heavy curtain you’d ripped off a wrecked Decepticon dropship and pinned into place. But there he was, looming in your makeshift threshold, glowering like he wanted to punch the wind in the face

Which, from what you’d heard, was a standard Crankcase greeting

You looked up from the mess of servo joints and cracked optics on your workbench “Oh good, another volunteer! Take a number, and by number I mean a seat, and by seat I mean that fuel drum with the mystery stain”

Crankcase didn’t move. He crossed his arms “I’m not here for your freak-show experiments. I’ve got a blown vent coil and a leaking wrist actuator”

You raised an oil-slicked brow “So… you are here for medical assistance”

He scowled “Field repair”

“Same difference,” you chirped, already gesturing him forward “I won’t bite. Unless you count removing faulty plating with my teeth. Kidding—mostly”

The fuel drum groaned beneath his weight as he sat. You could hear his joint hydraulics hissing with effort. He was trying very hard not to look worried

You crouched beside him, lifting his forearm and turning it this way and that “Hmm. Someone’s been punching things they shouldn’t. This isn't just a leak. You've got shrapnel embedded in your coolant line. Wanna keep it?”

Crankcase blinked “Keep it?!”

You gave him your best "I'm totally serious” look “Could turn it into a charm. Lucky shard. Something to ward off infection. Maybe your attitude”

He started to pull his arm back

You yanked it right back “Too late. I’ve named it. This one’s Steve”

“What the frag—”

With a quick flick, you plunged your gloved fingers into the small open seam, locating the shrapnel shard with tactile precision. You ignored Crankcase’s strangled hiss and produced the sliver with a flourish

“Aha! Steve the Shard, free at last. Say thank you”

Crankcase stared at you, deadpan

“You’re insane”

You smiled sweetly, plucking a soldering tool off the table “That’s Doctor Insane to you”

Bzzt

The tool sparked, lighting up your eyes like a child at a fireworks show

Crankcase tensed “You’re not putting that near me”

“I am” you said “Because if I don’t cauterize this line in the next thirty seconds, your arm’s going to start leaking coolant like a sobbing Wrecker”

He snarled — but didn’t stop you

You worked fast, too fast for his liking. Sparks flew, cables sizzled, and Crankcase let out a string of swears that could probably make a Seeker blush. You ignored all of it, whistling a cheerful tune as you worked

When it was done, you patted his arm

“All fixed. And you didn’t even pass out! Proud of you”

Crankcase glared. “I should report you”

“To who?” You grinned “You think we’re in a jurisdiction that still has a licensing board?”

He opened his mouth, paused, then shut it again

You leaned in “Besides... you’re walking out of here with full function, no fees, and a souvenir” You handed him the shard of metal with a crooked smile “Steve says hi”

Crankcase snatched it from you with a growl. But he didn’t throw it away

Not yet

↓

SUBJECT PATIENT RECORD

DESIGNATION: CRANKCASE

AFFILIATION: Scavenger (violently)

CONDITION: Multiple surface abrasions. Chronic irritation. Terminal grumpiness

NOTES BY ATTENDING FIELD PRACTITIONER (yes, still me):

Arrived under protest. Yelled “I’m fine!” while leaking energon like a guilt-ridden faucet

Displayed strong resistance to bedside manner. Calmed slightly after being asked if he wanted to watch me extract a bolt with pliers “just to see if it screams”

Requires verbal distraction during treatment; otherwise clenches up like a seized servo. Suggested topics: how annoying Misfire is, dirt, taxes

Responds well to threats. Especially ones that sound made up, like “scalp grafts”

Treatment successful. Patient limped off muttering about “invasive freaks with too many teeth”

RECOMMENDATION: Do not show weakness. Or enthusiasm. Or joy. Pretend you also hate everything—it soothes him

MENTAL STATUS: Functionally cranky. Potentially immortal out of sheer spite

—

The clinic—if one was generous enough to call a rusted-out storage bay with dangling lights and an energon-stained slab a clinic—was unusually quiet for once. No shouting. No crashing. No Misfire trying to flirt with his own reflection or you

Which meant something was wrong

“You’re late” said the voice from the dark corner. It belonged to the ‘doctor’, of course. You were hunched over a datapad, stylus tucked between two digits, not even bothering to look up “Your shoulder is making that noise again, isn’t it?”

KROK stepped in like a soldier reporting for punishment. His frame stiff, his expression more so

“I’m not here for a chat. I just need a recalibration”

You blinked slowly and finally glanced up

“No one ever is’

He hesitated, optics scanning the room. No restraints in sight today. That was probably a good sign

You patted the slab “Lie down”

“I’ll sit”

“I said lie down. You don’t argue with doctors”

“You’re not a doctor”

You grinned “And you’re not winning this one”

Krok muttered a curse under his breath and complied, lowering himself onto the slab with the grace of a war veteran who’d fought too many battles and not won nearly enough

“Left shoulder, right?” you asked, already activating a scanner that beeped in several colors it probably wasn’t supposed to “Tell me what happened”

“Misfire fell on me” Krok replied, voice tight “During training. He called it ‘combat bonding’”

You nodded sympathetically, even as you grabbed a wrench that had definitely once been used to pry open cargo doors “Ah yes. The age-old bonding ritual of ‘launch-yourself-at-your-commander’?"

"Classic"

“I think it dislocated again” he said, biting the inside of his cheek “I can’t rotate it past—argh!”

You'd already shoved it backward with a practiced snap

Krok nearly sat bolt upright “WHAT THE FRAG?! You didn’t warn me!”

“I didn’t have to. I’ve done this to corpses before. You should be grateful you screamed—it’s how I knew it worked”

He glared at you “That is not reassuring”

You beamed “It wasn’t meant to be”

Silence fell, broken only by the sound of metal creaking as you adjusted a few connections, then pressed a cooling gel pad over the joint. It hissed

Krok’s field softened just slightly “...You’re getting better at this”

“Oh?” you replied innocently

“Is that professional admiration or resignation to fate?”

“I’m not sure which one worries me more”

You leaned in, lowering your voice like a conspirator “Krok... You know this makes me your personal physician now, right?”

He stared at you flatly

“I will self-repair next time”

You smiled sweetly, scribbling something onto a datapad “Too late. Already logged it. You’re mine now"

↓

SUBJECT PATIENT RECORD

DESIGNATION: KROK

AFFILIATION: Scavenger leader (self-declared, no one’s argued)

CONDITION: Shoulder joint misalignment. Minor processor lag. Leadership fatigue.

NOTES BY ATTENDING FIELD PRACTITIONER (not approved by any health council anywhere):

Walked in with a stiff limp and a stiffer attitude. Tried to diagnose himself

Kept correcting my terminology. Said “That’s not a circuit, that’s a triple-fused control relay!” I responded with “Sounds infected” Believes himself to be the voice of reason. Believes wrong

Endured treatment with the patience of a bot who has seen some things. Possibly in denial about the chaos level of his team

Asked if I could do anything about “leadership-induced migraines.” Suggested decapitation. He did not laugh. Left with improved range of motion and deeply haunted expression. Probably unrelated

RECOMMENDATION: Respect the chain of command—then wrap it around his legs and drag him back when he tries to leave

He's the glue holding the team together. The glue is melting

MENTAL STATUS: Exhausted dad energy. Probably dreams of retirement. Will never get it

[moneymasnn]

Who Had A Cookie?

Blurb: One where you're the f1 drivers manager, and when all the boys seem to have eaten a 'magic cookie' you're the one who needs to clean up all the mess.

Notes: I was inspired by the one greys anatomy episode lol but I thought this was a funny concept. This is also my first fic I’ve posted in 6 months!! I found it in my drafts and decided to post! Enjoy xx

Warnings: well mention of drugs, might be some swearing but other than that nothing lol Platonic!reader x f1 drivers and a little bit of reader x Charles leclerc

Who had the cookies?

You loved charity events, especially f1 charity events. You loved your job for giving you the opportunity to attend these events. A very easy night if you say so yourself, babysitting twenty grown men, what could go wrong? Especially when cameras and fancy investors are around they behave all on their own, leaving you to relax, and indulge in some free champagne.

“Y/n.” your name was mumbled behind you, startling you as your attention now shifted to your assistant.

You knew something was wrong by the way she was twiddling her fingers, her black nails contrast to her white dress as she brings her left index nail up to hold between her teeth.

“Jenny? Spit it out.” You stood up straight, urging your assistant.

She stands up straight as if she's trying to muster up some sort of courage, she looks around before she leans in closer to you, you can almost hear her shaky breaths.

“There were some cookies… and erm, well they were placed in the drivers dressing room, and I don’t know how they got there. I mean, I certainly didn’t sign them off so this is no way my fault and-“ she was talking a mile a minute you couldn't even understand her.

“Jenny!” You took her hands that were waving in the air and bought them back down to her chest.

“Take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong?” you said sternly. 

“Don’t fire me… please.” You could see the tears brimming in her eyes, but the anticipation was killing you, you windened your eyes and stayed quiet so she could carry on.

“There were compromised cookies gifted to the driver's dressing room.”

“And?”

“And- and now the tin is empty, as in they've all gone. The cookies have been eaten y/n. Cannabis cookies.”

Your hands ran to your mouth as your eyes immediately darted around the room to look for anything out of the ordinary.

The room was spinning as you whipped your neck around in different directions.

George russel was the first to catch your attention.

He looked fine…he was leaning against a wall, chewing…

He was chewing on a cookie.

“Oh my god.” You started to push through the crowd of people in the hall.

“George! Drop that cookie!”

George’s eyes lit up when he saw you, one of his many managers. You could see the cookie crumbs falling from his mouth as he smiled, chocolate smudged around the corners of his lips.

“Y/n, you have to try these cookies!” He desperately said, holding up his half eaten cookie. But much to his dismay you slapped it out of his hand, letting it fall right to the floor. George’s lips downturned and your name fell in a groan from his lips as he looked at his cookie on the floor.

“Spit.” You held your hand out, as gross as it was.

“I will not!” He sassed you as you pointed your finger at him, eyebrows furring trying to be as intimidating to the six foot man as possible. George sent you one of his signature smirks as he swallowed the mouthful of cookie in one large gulp.

“George, those are not regular cookies-“

“Tell me about it! Send from the heavens.” he smiled, almost robotic, like the smile didn't reach his eyes.

Your own eyes widened as you realised one of your clients was stoned.

Completely and utterly stoned.

You were fucked.

You could feel Jenny breathe behind you, she let out a small giggle at George's actions causing you to turn and scowl at her.

“Grab him and take him to the dressing room, and don’t let him talk to anyone. lock him in there and then come back to help me gather anyone else who had had a cookie.”

She nodded as she grabbed George’s arm, telling him they were going on an adventure, George happily complying.

You sighed as you looked for anyone else.

You were at a very high class charity gala in Monaco. This night was about to be ruined and you were about to be fired for letting your drivers get out of control and well, high.

You decided making an announcement on the stage was your best bet, walking through the crowds of people you felt someone grab your arm.

“Y/n!” Lando Norris. 

He giggled as he said your name. Making him repeat himself.

“Y/nnnnnn.” He covered his mouth to stop the giggles. “Sorry, just, why does your name sound so weird?”

You had to try so hard to keep your face straight at the boy's child like giggles.

“Why are you laughing like that?” Carlos walked over, playing his arm over his wobbly ex teammate.

“Carlos!” you and lando both said in unison.

“Your hair is so soft, like fur.” Lando said as his hands made their way into Carlos's long brown locks. Carlos eyes widen as he looks at the boy then back at you, trying to pull Landos hands out of his hair.

“Carlos, did you have a cookie?” You eyed up the Spaniard.

“What cookie?” He frowned at you.

“Ugh, thank god! Landos had a erm.” You leaned into him so no one around would hear, “Some of the drivers have eaten cannabis laced cookies.”

Carlos’ head turned as he looked back at Lando, eyes widening.

“Take him back to the dressing room please, just lock him in there with George, and if you see anyone else take them with you.” 

Carlos just nodded, letting his mate lean on him as he dragged him to the back of the room.

You let out a sigh of relief, that was three out of a possible twenty.

Only seventeen more to find.

You walked up to the stage, grabbing the mic, tapping it slightly.

“Hello, everyone. I hope everyone is having a good night, erm, could all formula one drivers that have eaten a cookie this afternoon please meet back in the dressing room, important meeting. Thank you.” You smiled at the crowd, you could hear the whispers as you stopped off the stage. 

“Y/n?” 

Max. 

“I had a cookie, and I don't feel too good, like - like i'm not here, i've been over there.” He pointed to the corner of the room, “and I thought I was dreaming y/n. I dont know whats happening to me?” He looked panicked as he clutched onto your upper arm.

“You're okay max, you had some magic cookies.”

“Magic cookies?”

“Just come with me okay?”

He nodded his head vigorously as he followed you though the crows, clutched to your hand like a toddler. 

You noticed Daniel on the way, opting to grab him too.

“Danny!”

“Hello.” he had, in a very nonchalant tone, unlike his bubbly self. He was definitely stoned.

“Are you okay?”

“I feel great.” he smiled, but his eyes didn't quite catch up to him.

You grabbed his arm and dragged him along with max.

“Y/n? Where are we going?” Max asked anxiously.

“To sit down.”

You dragged them both into the room, when you got in there you could see George sat curled up on the window seal, lance was sat back against the wall staring at the floor. Seb was giggling at Mick who had all of a sudden become hyper aware of his body, saying he could feel his ‘skin’.

Pierre was touching his face in the mirror while Yuki was at the snack table. 

You let out a relieved sigh as Jenny had managed to capture some of the drivers, a few turning up after hearing your announcement. 

“Okay boys go play.” You pushed Daniel and Max into the room. 

“Dan, dan, danny, daniel.” Pierre called Daniel over to the mirror. “Why don't I look like me?” Pierre asked daniel. 

Pierre gasped and turned to a very relaxed Daniel, placing his hands on his shoulders.

“Daniel, do you think I look weird?” Panicked. 

“Coolllll.” Daniel replied as he smiled straight though pierre.

“You're right, I'm too cool to care.” Pierre nodded and turned back to the mirror to straighten out his shirt.

“This room is full of some very… high men.” Seb looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“Seb? Please tell me-”

“I didn't. Don't worry. I'm watching my weight.” he winked at you. “I'm happy to look after these guys while you get the others?”

You replied a quick thank you as you quickly shut the door, bolting back into the hall. Then you realised, opening the door back open and peering through, 

Where were Lando and carlos?

You rushed back out, looking down the bottom of the hallway, choosing to search the rest of the building, you came to the fire escape stairs where you found a curled up charles rocking back and forward. 

“Charlie?” you gently called out as you crouched down next to him, placing a hand on his knee.

“Y/n?” He quietly replied. 

“It's me, it's just me. How are you feeling?” you gently asked him.

“I- i don't know, i've never felt like this before.” He said raising his head, his eyes bloodshot and skin pale, he had a cookie.

You smiled at him as you brushed his fallen hair back from his forehead.

“You're going to be alright, come with me okay?”

You pulled him up to his feet where he looked down at you, sniffing before a little smile climbed his face.

“You're so pretty y/n.” You giggled at the boy as you took his hand and made your way down the steps to the drivers room.

“Like a princess.” he added, his hands waving in the air.

“Thank you, charlie.” you giggled.

“Charlie,” he smiled, “have i ever told you how much i love it when you call me that, charlie.” he smiled and repeated the nickname again, leaning his head on your shoulder as you both made your way down the stairs.

Charles lightly sighed as you pushed him into the drivers room, “Where are you going?” Charles whispered, pulling on your arm.

“I'll be back in five minutes okay, Seb will look after you.”

Charles nodded his head to look for seb, you both grimace when you saw mick with his head in the trash can, seb rubbing his back as pierre and yuki giggle at him in the corner. 

You walked back out the room when Jenny was running up to you, “Y/n! Huge problem, Carlos and Lando are on the stage!”

Ou barge past her and walk into the room to see Carlos with a mic in his hand, Lando leaning into him in fits of laughter.

“All I'm saying is, I race really fast cars, like that's super cool, right? There's only twenty of us that do that. So cool, im so cool, im a cool guy.'' Carlos giggled as he spoke about himself on stage.

“You could die? I could die? Imagine that! The world would be so sad, my smooth operator.” Lando giggled at the nickname and then started to sing. 

And before you knew it they were two verses deep into smooth operator, Carlos opting to show off his opera skills at one point. 

You jumped on the stage taking the mic out of Carlos' hands and putting your hand over it so you could whisper shout in his ear, “You said you didn't have any cookies!”

Carlos snickered as he looked at Lando who gasped and held his hand over his mouth.

“You lied to y/n?” Lando giggled. “Oh man you're in so much trouble.” Landos face dropped as he leaned into carlos’ face, “she looks mad, we should probably run.”

Carlos nodded along with the boy when you grabbed both of their arms, “Nope. No more running, you're coming with me.”

Carlos shook his head like a caught child and both men giggled as you pushed them off the stage, apologising to the crowd before handing the mic back to the dj. 

“Y/n!”

You sighed as your name was called for about the fifth time that night, this time though, it was serious.

Zac Brown made his way over to the three of you, a scowl on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. Lando straightened his posture as Carlos crossed his arms and impersonated Zac, Lando caught onto this and all of a sudden the boys were in crying fits of laughter again. You winced as Landos cackle echoed through the hall, catching the attention of people around.

“What. The. Hell?”

“I can explain.” you winced at the man.

“What is going on here?” He eyed up his driver and ex driver, who he presumed had too much to drink.

“They're high. Someone laced some cookies and I'm so sorry, I have the situation under wraps, they won't be a problem anymore.”

But when Zac started to laugh along you realised maybe it wasn't just some of the drivers who had had some cookies.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” You grabbed Zac as well as Lando and Carlos and dragged them back to the dressing room.

“Y/n, Your back!” Charles made his way over to you, engulfing you into a hug.

“Y/ns back!” Max screamed as he fell off the sofa, plunging his way into your arms along with charles.

“Hey get off her, she's my manager!” Max shoved Charles hand that was loosely placed on your shoulder. 

“She's mine too!”

While the two men started to fight over your attention you scanned the drivers that were in the room. Jenny had managed to catch the majority and even some of the drivers that weren't high had opted to help.

Max shoved Charles in hopes he would let go of you, instead causing you to stumble back into the arms of someone else.

“Okay okay, we get it, she's pretty but you're suffocating her, and she won't be very pretty when she's dead on the floor.” a spanish accent can be heard behind you. 

Fernando unwrapped both men as they both started to profusely apologise about ‘nearly killing you.’

You rubbed your hand over your head after smiling at Fernando in a thank you as he sent Charles and Max to the food table.

“You look stressed.” he said with a smirk as you both watched the men in the room.

“I need a cookie.” you joked, your eyes on mick who was still throwing up.

“I could always make you some.” he shrugged.

You laughed at the man before your eyes widened in realisation, you turned to him, face like thunder, “You!”

He threw his hands up in the air, “In my defence i didn't mean for anyone to eat them. It was a total accident.”

Your mouth agape you turned to look at the Spaniard ready to scream every curse word you know. He sensed your anger, “it was an honest mistake y/n, trust me. You think I would have wasted all of them cookies on these people on purpose.”

Your eyes darted daggers and Fernando understood you were really mad, in an attempt to lighten the mood he pointed at Yuki and Pierre who were having the time of their lives giggling like two school girls in the corner.

“You have to admit, it is kinda funny,” he said.

A smile crept on your face as you giggled, it was kinda funny.

Yours and Fernandos giggling soon stopped when you saw Max and Checo arguing in the corner.

“I think Max is about to punch Checo for taking the last slice of pizza.” you said.

“Shit.”

[todorkihoe]

Red Hot

Now, he doesn’t know what he was expecting the item to be when he decided to grab it. Perhaps he thought it was a sock or maybe a handkerchief. But what he was not expecting was a skimpy pair of lacy, fiery red panties.

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre: smut 18+

content warnings: panty stealing/sniffing/licking, solo (m) masturbation, unprotected sex, some embarrassment/getting caught, oral & fingering (f receiving)

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you accidentally leave behind a pair of your underwear in the laundry room and your hot neighbor steals them

a/n:  literally like the first thing i’ve written in 3 years lmfaooo but fun fact about this fic is that it was originally a todoroki fic that had been rotting in my drafts and i found it and thought hmmm this could be repurposed. also the actual HELL i had to go through getting tumblr to work before i could post this could not be understated

You were a mess today. Truly a mess.

Now that’s not to say that you aren’t a mess every day, but today is particularly bad. You’re just thankful that you’ve managed to avoid everyone in your apartment building as you trudge down to the basement to get to the communal washers and dryers.

If anyone were to see you they’d be horrified, to say the very least. It had been too long since you’d done a load of laundry, leaving you to wear a too-small pair of shorts, an old stained t-shirt, and mismatched socks. Not to mention the haggard expression on your face from many sleepless nights of studying and working. 

So in short- you were a mess.

You once again luck out as you walk into the laundry room, delighted to see that no one is around to hear you grumble about your chores. You hum quietly as you pull the detergent and scent-boosting beads from your laundry basket and pour a bit of each in, taking a whiff of the fresh scent. Doing laundry was horrible but nice-smelling and clean clothes were not. You continue the task of transferring your dirty clothes in the washing machine until you’re so rudely interrupted by someone else entering the room.

But not just anyone of course. No, because Gojo Satoru is definitely not just anyone. 

He’s the hot neighbor you’ve had a crush on since the day he moved into the apartment across from yours, and you’re not the only one. Nearly everyone in this building has a crush on him and for good reason. He’s tall and strikingly handsome with a strong physique and voice that sends a pleasurable chill down your spine.

You’re hardly able to contain a flustered squeak when he acknowledges you with a smile before setting up at the washer next to yours. You bite your lip to keep from saying anything stupid because his presence is intoxicating and if you lean a just little to the right you’d be able to smell his cologne and-

“Y/N?”

At the sound of your name leaving his oh-so-pink lips, you blink stupidly multiple times to see him looking at you with a slight, knowing grin. Cocky bastard.

“Huh?”

“Oh, I just asked if I could borrow some of your detergent. I accidentally forgot mine up in my apartment,” he reiterates as that stupid grin remains plastered across his face. You rush out a “yes” and hand the detergent to him, unable to meet his piercing eyes after zoning out in a fantasy about him when he was standing right next to you.

You feel your face heat up in embarrassment, knowing that Gojo isn’t stupid. He’s smart enough to know when people are checking him out. The longer you stand next to him, the more you start to overthink the short interaction and the more you want to leave. So you do. You rapidly throw the rest of your clothes in and close the washer before hurrying away without saying goodbye. 

Gojo watches you practically run out of the room in surprise. He knew he flustered you, but did he do something wrong? He ponders the situation while putting his clothes in the washer and looking over at the laundry basket you left before he spots a singular red item in the white basket. Now Gojo knows that he shouldn’t look; it’s not his business if you forgot something so he definitely shouldn’t look. And it’s certainly not the gentlemanly thing to do, but it’s you and Gojo wouldn’t call himself a particular gentleman.

Now, he doesn’t know what he was expecting the item to be when he decided to grab it. Perhaps he thought it was a sock or maybe a handkerchief. But what he was not expecting was a skimpy pair of lacy, fiery red panties. 

His eyes widen in pleased surprise at this unknown side of you and he can’t help the flush of blood to his face and other places. He curls his fist around the fabric as images of you wearing nothing but the underwear flood his mind and he fails to fight the tightening of his pants.

Gojo snaps out of it quickly, realizing he’s standing in the very communal laundry room holding your panties. What should he do with them? There was no way he was going to chase after you while holding your underwear, he couldn’t open your washer and put them in because the cycle had already started, and he couldn’t put them back because when you came back down you’d certainly know that he’d seen them. What was he to do?

Gojo made his decision and turned back to his washer to put the rest of his clothes in before leaving. 

With your panties in his pocket. 

He quickly makes his way to the elevator, thankful that he hadn't run into anyone while sporting an impressively large bulge in his jeans. He steps into the elevator and presses the number of your shared floor before backing up against the wall. Riddled with only mild guilt and overwhelming lust, Gojo lets out a long sigh before the image of you under him once again appears and he slides his hand into his pocket, rubbing the thin lace of your panties between two slender fingers.

When the elevator doors finally open, he quickly walks out and pauses in front of the door to your apartment for a moment, picturing what you might be doing. Picturing what you might look like in… He then walks over to his own door and unlocks it with shaky hands before stepping in and locking it immediately.

His fingers drift into his pocket and he pulls the panties out to look down at them. God this felt so dirty, stealing his neighbor's underwear and getting hard with them in his hand. Gojo knows he should probably feel guilty but at this point he doesn’t care, bringing his hand with the panties down to his clothed crotch and grinding against it with an airy groan. His head falls back against the door with a quiet thud as he continues to palm himself through his jeans.

Gojo imagines you beneath him, wearing only the red panties, calling his name, and begging in your sweet voice for him to touch you. He lets out another quiet groan at the thought of you and makes his way to sit down on his bed. He pulls his shirt over his head, imagining it was your hands stripping him of his clothes. Without thinking, he brings the panties up to his nose and inhales your scent deeply while using his other hand to rub the bulge in his pants.

As his tongue pokes through his lips in an attempt to taste your juices on the fabric, his hand desperately fumbles with his zipper to free his aching cock. He lets out a low moan as he wraps his hand around his long shaft, slowly rubbing his thumb over the leaking tip and gasping out your name.

“Fuck Y/N-” he moans out as he starts to slowly slide his hand up and down his length. His whole body felt hot at the idea of you. As his desperation builds, so does the pace of his hand, becoming tighter and more erratic as an uncontrollable slew of words falls from his mouth.

“Dirty girl…probably left these for me to find,” he groans through clenched teeth. “Wanted me to picture-f-fuck-picture what you’d look like with your legs spread for me u-ugh,”. He brings your panties down from his face to wrap the fabric around his cock, furiously bucking his hips. Seconds later, with a strangled groan, he spills into his fist and all over your delicate lace. 

Satoru looks down at his mess and sighs heavily, laying back in bed and filled with a lust-addled determination to get you in here with him.

Later the next day, when Satoru takes the elevator down to the lobby to retrieve some mail, he spots you unlocking your mailbox and strides over. Upon feeling someone enter your space, you look up and are shocked at the sight of Gojo staring straight at you.

“Gonna run off again, neighbor?”

You sputter out some pathetic non-answer and he only chuckles at you while unlocking his own mailbox, right next to yours. In the past few months that you and Gojo have been neighbors, you’ve rarely spoken or gotten to know one another. As if reading your mind, he asks, “Would you like to come up for coffee? If you’re not busy, that is,” as he grabs a few letters from his mailbox.

You can feel the heat rise to your face and can’t help the look of surprise. You mean to say “yes” or nod but without thinking, simply ask “Why?” giving Gojo a look of surprise as well. You swear you see a tinge of pink on his cheeks as he chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “Dunno…thought you might like to share a drink. If not, that’s fine-”

“No! Sorry no, I mean I’d really like that, yeah,” you respond a bit sheepishly. He smiles at you and extends his arm, gesturing to the elevator, letting you enter first. He follows in as you press the button to your shared floor, shifting from foot to foot a little awkwardly in the silence. Neither of you says anything as the elevator reaches your floor and you continue in silence, following Gojo to his apartment right across from yours.

Sometime later, after the both of you spent a copious amount of time trying to figure out Gojo’s fancy coffee machine that he had apparently never used, you’re both sat in his living room engaging in light conversation. He seemed to be very interested in your life, asking about your work, education, and hobbies rather than talking about himself. The attention focused solely on you was intense but welcomed, and you were glad that the awkwardness from earlier was gone.

Upon laughing at some stupid joke Gojo made, you spill a bit of your drink on your hands and shirt. “Oh, jeez, would you mind if I used your bathroom real quick?

“Oh yeah, of course. I’m assuming our layouts are the same so you know where it is?”

“Down that hall, right?” you ask, and when he nods in confirmation, you walk in that direction. It appears that your respective apartments were built the same way so you turn right at the end of the hall, thinking it’ll be the bathroom. Wrong. You’ve now accidentally entered Gojo’s bedroom, but before you turn on your heel to go left instead, something that’s bright red in color catches your eye from his nightstand.

You can’t tell what it is from here, but it does look vaguely familiar and you know you should absolutely not snoop in his apartment. You’re a guest and sneaking into his bedroom is just about the most invasive thing you could do but you can’t help yourself from tip-toeing in. When you reach his nightstand, your subconscious suspicion is confirmed: there is, in fact, a very scandalous pair of your underwear sitting on your neighbor's nightstand sporting very curious stains.

You stand in shock for a moment, deliberating your next move. Pretending you never saw this and turning around to go to the bathroom was an option. But the knowledge of this scene would certainly eat away at you in more ways than one. The other option is to confront him about this, and without even really weighing the pros and cons, you hook one finger around your underwear to lift them and walk back into the living room.

“Did you find the bathroo–Oh..” Gojo’s voice trails off weakly when he sees the item in your hand. His mouth gapes open and closed like a fish and a deep crimson begins to paint his cheeks as he struggles to find anything to say. You stand silently and expectantly, warmth bleeding into your face in a similar fashion.

A few more tense moments pass before he attempts to clear his throat and explain. “When we were in the laundry room the other day, you…you left them and I..took them and then-” his voice begins to crack in embarrassment at the end of the statement, the reality of what exactly he’d done with your panties hanging in the air.

His gaze is almost pained as it drops back to the floor, fearing your disgust. But, you don’t feel disgusted, rather you feel quite flattered, and it emboldens you to take a step forward, voice dropping to a lull.

“Y’know..these are my favorite pair and you ruined them.” Gojo flinches and opens his mouth but you cut him off with a seductive whisper, “I think you should make it up to me.”

He lifts his head quickly in surprise, assessing your demeanor closely before a dangerous glint appears in his eyes. “Yeah?” he asks throatily. You answer with a nod, not trusting your voice to be strong enough. He tilts his head, considering you for a moment, and before you can react, he’s stepping forward and his lips are crashing against yours. 

You respond with a fervent kiss back, arms wrapping around his neck as he walks you back against the nearest wall. He groans against your lips while his hands busy themselves with touching you anywhere possible, gripping your hips and sliding up your shirt to paw at your chest. You squeal as he lifts you up to carry you to his bed, lips never parting from yours while your panties lay forgotten on the floor.

He sits back down on the mattress, holding you in his lap as you grind your hips down on his prominent bulge. He lifts your shirt over your head and begins attacking your neck and chest with kisses. “Gojo,” you sigh breathily, threading your fingers through his hair. “Satoru,” he responds, whining when you echo him and remove his shirt to satiate your own desires.

All flushed and pretty he pulls back to ask, “Can I touch you, sweetheart?” and lays you back in the covers as soon as you nod rapidly. 

Your pants are gone in seconds and Satoru pauses to admire the sight of you finally in his bed. You, however, grow impatient quickly and yank his hair, pulling a needy whine from his kiss-swollen lips. “Thought you were gonna make it up to me?” you pout, causing a wolfish grin to spread across his face. 

“Oh, I’ll do more than that.” And then he’s leaning down and pulling your panties to the side with his teeth before diving in. With the way he moans against you, you might think he was enjoying this more than you, tongue laving over every inch of you, flicking your clit, and pushing into you.

“Satoruuu..” you whine, encouraging him to bring his fingers up to rub against your dripping entrance. 

“Fuck say my name again, baby.” You comply with another long moan when he rewards you with his fingers, tongue never moving from your clit.

“I’ll admit…” he begins idly, “You’re so much fucking prettier than I imagined. Fucking gorgeous.” Your cheeks burn and your hands fist the sheets tightly as his palm grinds against your clit, long fingers pumping into you and stretching you out. Satoru has to hold your hips down as you cum with a high-pitched squeal, his own hips pathetically humping the mattress below him.

While you lay panting and recovering from your high, Satoru fumbles to push his pants and boxers down, exposing his aching cock to you. Long, thick, and painfully hard. You can practically see his cock pulsing for you as a little bead of pre-cum leaks down the side of him. Entranced, you reach forward and brush your fingers over the leaking tip, causing him to hiss through his teeth. Looking up at him with wide, lustful eyes, you grin, “Will you fuck me now, Satoru?”

His head drops back and his cock twitches at your words before he’s climbing over you and spreading your legs wide to make room. “You don’t even have to ask, baby..”

You moan as he slides his cock up and down your cunt, coating himself with your slick. Satoru flicks the hair out of his eyes to get the best view as he just barely pushes the tip in, watching how your lips part for him.

You both dig your nails into each other when he finally slides all the way in like that’s where he was meant to be all along. Satoru wastes no time in setting a fast, hard pace that hits the most sensitive parts of you every time he sinks back in. The noises shared between you, the moans, the whines, the wet squelch of your pussy every time you suck him back in..it all makes you feel like you're on fire

“Wanted to-f-fuck-wanted to do this for sooo long, sweetheart,” he moans against your ear, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. Each sloppy drive of his cock into you pushes you up the bed until he wraps his arms around you and drags you down onto him like his own personal toy.

You can’t even think straight with everything he’s doing, it’s all so much. The weight of him on top of you, the force of his hips pressing into yours, the sound of his voice in your ear-all of it just drives you closer and closer to the edge, clenching around his length. You dig your nails deeper into the corded muscle of his back and guturally moan, “T-Toru..g’na cum! Need to-”

“Y-yeah let me feel it,” he croons in your ear and reaches down between you to rub frantic circles over your clit, voice pitching to a near whine when he feels you finally gush around his cock. You shake violently against him, hips bucking up uncontrollably. Your orgasm triggers his and he lets out a drawn-out moan, hips slowing as his cum floods into you and mixes with your own juices.

“That’s it-fuck..take it all, pretty girl,” he moans, continuing to grind his cum deeper into you before collapsing down on top of you. He presses breathless kisses to your neck and shoulder while you run your hands through his damp hair, the both of you sighing contentedly.

Satoru pulls back just enough to grin stupidly at you, “Did I make it up to you?” You only groan and playfully push his face away with a laugh.

Later, when you’re relaxed in bed and tucked into the crook of Satoru’s neck, you giggle.

“Oh, Satoru?”

“Yeah?”

“You owe me a new pair of panties.”

a/n: pretty please alert me to any spelling/grammar errors and I luv him :3

[opiopal]

(I found this old draft from like, early December! I remember it was a practice at writing dialogue and a bit of angst? I just remember sitting in an art class and typing it out lol, But I decided to clean it up a bit and post! Since I haven’t been posting often and I have about 60 drafts lined up, lowkey I can’t tell if it’s any good or not, since idk if my skills have grown since my wattpad days. I would’ve fully rewritten it, but I knew it would’ve been a pain so I just spell checked and replaced a few sentences.)

•

•

(First scene takes place before lesson 16, second scene is during lesson 16. Also this is just a thing I thought of a while ago)

•CW: description of blood and dead body at the end.•

Mc has been staring at him for a while, hugging onto one of their pillows tightly, completely lost in thought. Mammon had brought them an extra cup of noddles, they had both just gotten back from RAD a while ago so they were reasonably hungry, and he apparently made two “by mistake” and just didn’t wanna waste it.(Mc thought it was a dumb excuse, but didn’t want to mention it and just accepted the food.) Though Mc had finished theirs a while ago, mammon was taking his sweet time, awkwardly staring down at the floor and occasionally flicking his eyes over at the human sitting no less then four feet away from him. It doesn’t cross their mind that he may be acting so awkward due to the fact that they have just been staring at him for the last ten minutes, but how could they really tell? Ever since they had made a pact with him, he’d been so awkward that it made levi look like an extrovert. As the seconds go by he wonders if he should question them, maybe there’s something wrong with them?? Why else would they be staring?? Or maybe there’s something on his face? Is his hair a mess? Is his shirt wrinkled? Why in the three realms won’t they just look away???

“do you like me?”

as they finally break the silence mammon chokes a bit, he coughs as his cheeks almost immediately get red,

“H-wh- I- What?!” “do you like me?” They asked it so casually, as if they were asking him if it were going to rain soon.

“O-of course I don’t!”

“then why do you hang around me?”

“because I HAVE to!”

“even at home?”

“yes!”

“how come?” They set their pillow to the side as they stare at him, he stammers

“I- well- because.. it’s… dangerous for you to be alone!”

Mc tilts their head slightly and furrows their brows, ”do you think your brothers would be a danger to me? Am I not safe here?”

“NO! I mean- uhm- obviously you’re safe here, I just.. you know I need to watch you!”

“but if I’m safe.. then why would you need to?”

“well-“ he pauses, his face somehow gets redder,

Mc smiles and scoots closer to him,

“you wanna know what I think?”

he side eyes them as they slowly start to smile,

“I think we’re friends,”

“PFFTT WHAAAT! NO! No. No we aren’t.”

“I think we are!”

“No” ”yes,” ”no-“ ”yes!” ”no!”

“Then I’ll ask again, How come you hang out with me?”

“I-“ as he pauses again to try and think of an excuse that wouldn’t cause anxiety or worry, he doesn’t want them to believe his brothers would hurt them- but he doesn’t want them to know the painfully obvious truth!!!! mc grins and wraps their arms around one of his,

“we’re frriendss~” they say in a sing songy voice, pressing their cheek against his shoulder. at this point he was so flushed you’d assume someone had came in and slathered red paint all other his face.

a bit of frustration creeps in as he yanks his arm from their grasp, and pulls them in for a tight hug as he avoids eye contact with them. If he can’t deny it, he might as well own it.. right??

“Well. I guess you WOULD want to be friends with the great mammon! It’s only natural!!”

a little surprised, mc giggles and wraps their arms around his torso in return,

“oh yeah, that’s totally it.”

“A- hey! Don’t be gettin all sarcastic!”

They turn their head to look up at him, at this point nearly laying in his lap. They stop giggling for a moment to smile at his face red face, they didn’t really mean to tease him, but he didn’t seem to be taking it to harshly. though still they apologize,

“I’m sorry, you’re right. Though you are a pretty good friend.”

“… really?”

his response surprises the both of them for a second, honestly he didn’t mean to say it, that was just an inside thought that managed to sneak out. He adjusts his arm to support the back of their head as he stares down at them.

“yeah, of course, I think you’re amazing mammon… and you’re doing a fantastic job… keeping me safe, that is.”

• •

That moment almost immediately enters his mind as he stares down at them, pulling their body closer into his chest as their blood slowly begins to soak his arms and lap.

he wasn’t doing a fantastic job. He didn’t. He hasn’t. Why would he let this happen? HOW could he let this happen? He’s holding his human, his mc, as his youngest brother laughs.

He can’t look away, his mind re-memorizing their face, their eyes looked straight ahead with no sign of life, unblinking. He cups their face, shaking them gently, wanting them to do something, anything. To laugh at him being so worried, to make a comment about all the commotion, to mumble something about Lucifer, to blink, to BREATHE, To do ANYTHING. he could feel their warmth fading away, they were so cold. They didn’t deserve to be cold.

His brain was so clouded that he hardly took notice of the door being opened and his brothers arguing coming to a stop, his head finally jerking up when someone spoke their name.

[noiriarti]

Just Practice: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Modern Best Friends AU) Ch. 2

Summary: Anakin is your best friend, the one person you can't survive without, and you're about to go to different colleges. You bring up your worries about your inexperience and he offers to help.

NSFW!!!!!!! Literally so NSFW!!! TW for mentions of choking and degradation

Ch. 1, [Ch. 2], Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Bonus Chapter

Chapter 2: An Inescapable Fact

Anakin Skywalker was in love with his best friend. It was an inescapable fact, the same way that the sky was blue, and the Earth was round. Another fact was that he had made out with and practically came on his best friend. He didn't really know what he had been thinking, or if he even had been thinking, but, after he left, all he knew was that he wanted to do it again. And again. And again.

Maybe he liked it a little too much. When he walked down the front steps of your house with his mom, picked up his bike from your lawn, and dashed up to his room to "finish packing," he not-so-subtly palmed himself, his hand lingering on the front of his jeans, where you were grinding against him minutes (minutes!!!) ago. It took him all of thirty seconds to take care of it, imagining you were still on top of him. As he lay there, panting, his hand covered in cum, he wondered if you were doing the same thing. (You were, of course, but he didn't know that.) He pulled out his phone with his clean hand and typed out a message. Hey. His phone dinged less than a second later. Hey, you had sent back. Now he was left wondering what the fuck a person is supposed to say to their best friend who they're in love with and just "for practice" made out with? 

That was great. No, too eager.

That was hot. No, weirdly horny.

How are you? No, too nonchalant.

I've been in love with you since seventh grade and I can't imagine life without you so please don't stop being my friend and if you want to be more I'd really enjoy that but no worries if you want to stay just friends. Jesus Christ.

We should do that again. Passable. Send. 

And so he waited for you to respond. And waited. And then stood up and cleaned himself up. And packed a bit. Eventually, later in the night, his phone pinged and he dove across the room to check it, but it was a notification from Instagram that one of his teammates had sent him a post. Anakin tossed his phone back on his bed with a little bit more force than necessary, then threw more of his shirts into the open suitcase on the floor. Another hour passed, and there was still radio silence from you. He opened his texts and stared at your exchange for a bit. It was still unread.

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I crossed a line and it obviously is making you uncomfortable. I enjoyed what we did, and I'd like it to continue, if you want. If not, that's chill. I just want you to talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking, and how you're feeling, and if you still want me in your life. Please-- he drafted, stopping suddenly when he saw the Read notification pop up. He deleted the entire thing with shaking hands. What were you going to say?

Those three dots in the bubble were literal torture, he decided. Being stretched on the rack was probably easier than this horrible purgatory of not knowing whether the one person in his life who he couldn't exist without wanted to end their friendship.

Agreed, your text read. He immediately typed out a Are you okay?, which you answered with Yeah, you?. He assured you that he was, and you told him you were going to sleep for the night. Anakin finally put his phone down and asked himself what was wrong with him.

He hadn't felt this way around a girl, well, ever. In sophomore year, Padmé approached him and asked him out. He was so thrilled someone showed interest in him that he didn't think too carefully about it, but he caught feelings for her quickly. She was smart, kind, pretty. All the things a girlfriend ought to be. She made signs for his games, and kissed him with a desire he longed for. Everyone knew that she loved him, especially him. That's what made it gut-wrenching, because there was always something he was looking for that he could never find with her. Something he was missing. Little things killed them, like when she bought him cranberries and didn't know that he hated them, or when he realized her parents would never approve of him, no matter how hard he tried. He was always the captain of the soccer team who lived in the not-so-nice part of the town, where there were more cows than people, and she was always the genius debater from a house that had six bathrooms.

The first time he had sex with her, it was all hands and kisses and whispered praise. The second time, when he was less stunned by the newness of everything, he started feeling it. That wrongness. And it just didn't stop. When he said her name, the word felt foreign on his lips, like he wasn't meant to say it. Once, he brought up doing something more intense, like pulling her hair or smacking her ass, and she said she probably wouldn't enjoy it, but she'd try it anyway. She, in fact, did not enjoy it, and Anakin drove away from her house later that night in his beat-up Toyota feeling like a monster. Everything was just a little off between them. All his fantasies, all his conceptions of how a girlfriend and sex should be were based on how he imagined you would act. He'd know about your sweet tooth and give you the frosting off his cupcake, and you'd give him the pickles off your burger. With Padmé, nothing fit just right, it was a little off. In another world, he thought that he could have choked it down, married her. Had a happy life in a suburb somewhere. She would have loved it.

He found himself responding to her texts slowly, and kept trying to bring himself back to their dates when he zoned out. It didn't work, and, after a teary, bittersweet goodbye eight months after they dated, he was single again. When Padmé got into Harvard in her senior year, his junior year, he congratulated her, and she hugged him, and he knew that they were okay. Maybe he didn't ever really get to know all of Padmé's nooks and crannies because he didn't feel the urge to. With you, it was practically pathological. He hungered for every photo of you, every glance that you threw him. 

Now that he had kissed you, finally giving in to his stupid desires, he knew, with certainty, that this was love. Not a childish crush, not a teenage boy's lust, but love. (And also lust, but that was secondary.) As he fell asleep that night, he decided to tell you that just thinking of you was setting his heart racing now, that he wanted nothing more than to be yours. He'd just do it when he visited you.

When he loaded his whole life (three suitcases, it turned out) into the back of the massive van your parents had rented, he realized you hadn't seen you this morning yet. Your parents were setting up the front, arguing over which highway to take. Why did it matter? There were four hours until the flight. Your parents had pulled out two of your five suitcases, which Anakin dutifully loaded into the back next to his own luggage. You must have packed a whole rack of weights inside them, leaving Anakin sweating after stuffing the trunk.  The pom poms you had made for both of your suitcases (an early going away present, you had said, which made his heart constrict and ache) were laid down like ducks in a row. As your mother emerged with the remaining three suitcases, probably even heavier than the first two, he thanked his lucky stars Coach made them do so much conditioning. That, and the away games gave him practice at waking up at the ass-crack of dawn, a skill that came in useful today.

You weren't a morning person, which he knew, so your absence wasn't a shock, but you coming out of the house looking perfectly awake was. Anakin watched you cast one last look at your house, memorizing its grooves like you didn't already know them by heart, before you turned your gaze to him. Your eyes met, and he instantly looked away. Fuck, you looked pretty this morning. You walked up to him, and he noticed the faintest trace of makeup around your eyes.

"You look nice," he blurted out once you walked up to him. He cursed himself. When had he become so awkward around you?

"Thanks," you said as you smiled back at him. Like nothing had ever happened, like he hadn't kissed your neck eight short hours ago. So it probably meant less to you than it did to him. The cool early morning air soothed the sting of that idea. You climbed into the backseat, wedging yourself in between the various backpacks and Anakin's seat. When he buckled himself in, your thighs were pressed together, just like last night. Anakin's hand itched to bring your legs over his, to grab your knee and kiss you again. But he wasn't going to.

The car ride was calming, only an hour to the airport, and you were the only car on the road. In the dark, early morning, you had fallen asleep almost instantly. Your parents had lapsed into silence, and he was supposed to be only torn up about leaving his mom, but he kept getting distracted by the way your head lolled around the headrest. Eventually, your head fell into the space between you, resting at an angle Anakin thought would need a chiropractor to fix. So, he did what any best friend would. He gently guided your head to his shoulder. It must have been more comfortable for you that way, anyway. He couldn't sleep, hyperaware of your every movement like he had never been before. Heart fluttering and hands antsy, Anakin managed to survive the drive. Once you got to the airport, and your parents called your name, you jolted up, and he missed you immediately. If he thought separating before would be hard, he had fucked up last night and made it a thousand times worse. Not that he regretted it, really.

The five of you made it through check-in (another lifting of the bags, which broke him into a sweat he hoped looked rugged and not gross) and security (where every single one of his bags was pulled aside because he was carrying some of his projects, which, okay, did have a lot of wires and chips in them, but he was an engineer, dammit, not a bomber). By the time you had dragged yourselves to the gate, the sun had risen. Your flight was first, straight to LaGuardia, then Anakin and Shmi would get on the plane to Ithaca just an hour later. You still had two hours until the flight, which the two of you spent in McDonalds getting one last Icee (cherry for Anakin, blue raspberry for you), drinking it until Anakin's stomach hurt from the sugar. It was like the previous night never happened, and neither of you mentioned it, dodging the topic and filling every silent moment with some comment about a tourist dropping all their bags or some mom with a child on a leash. When the first boarding call came from your gate, only ten seconds' walk away from your current perch next to some chargers on a wall, he knew your parents would want you back soon. He only had a minute, and you sensed it too. The sun was rising, casting its sleepy shine through the windows of the terminal and lighting up a halo of frizz around your head. You were beautiful, he thought. He pulled you into a crushing hug.

"Thank you for being my best friend. Promise you won't forget me?" You whispered to him while still in his bear hug. The tiny voice you used, the fear that question hid were too much for him. He pulled you in tighter, until he could barely breathe. 

"I could never. I'll be your best friend forever," he affirmed. Because that's what you were, above all else. Friends. Anakin had to preserve that, and he wavered on the decision to tell you about his feelings. Your friendship came first. When he walked you back to your gate, the last he saw of you was when you turned back to look at him right before walking through the gangway to your plane. It reminded him of the way you looked at your house before you left, a gesture of love and loyalty. Then you were gone, and he missed you instantly.

Another hour in the airport was dreadfully boring without you, it turned out, and the five hour plane ride was even worse. By the time they landed, Anakin was practically ready to jump out of the emergency exit, just for the entertainment of it. Everything he did was tinged with the slightest bit of disinterest. The book he packed, The Art of Electronics, proved to be dreadfully dull, and his phone was similar. There was only one person he wanted to hear from.

When they landed in Ithaca's airport, Anakin and Shmi loaded into a taxi and drove off to his dorm, which was comfortingly close. Just a hop away, then he could be home. The room itself, when entered, smelled damp and stale but at least looked clean. He and Ben, his slightly older roommate who played professionally in leagues in the UK before coming to college, got on like fire and tall grass, and Shmi practically had to keep reminding them that they, indeed, needed to unpack. 

Around five, he shot you a text.

Anakin: How's your room?

You: Nice, big! Here's a pic

You sent a picture

You: I finally met Ahsoka IRL, and she's just as nice as I thought she'd be!

You: I really like hanging out with her and her girlfriend Barriss

You: What about you?

Anakin: It's good, me and Ben, who's also on the soccer team

Anakin: lmfao that looks tiny

Anakin: We have a common room

Anakin: Feast your eyes

Anakin sent a picture

You: Jesus how have you managed to make it gross already

Anakin: It's not gross

Anakin: The Nicki Minaj American flag is camp

Anakin: And we only need two chairs for the TV

You: Two folding chairs in the middle of the room and nothing else on the walls is unhinged

Anakin: Unfriended

He smiled and set his phone down. Things were back to normal. Now, all he had to do to finish move-in was get thoroughly drunk with his new teammates.

You kept in contact with one another, sending cute squirrels (Anakin) and rats (you) that crossed your paths, or updating each other on your classes. Two weeks in the semester, Anakin finally felt brave enough to ask you. He was sitting on his newly-acquired couch, which you had bullied him into buying off of Facebook Marketplace. It was dingy, and had several stains that made him wonder if it was a crime scene, but it was cheap, and that was what mattered.

Anakin: Hey, can I come over this weekend?

You: Please. I'm going crazy here without you.

Anakin: Can I crash on your floor then?

You: I mean, if you're coming, we could practice a bit more, so you wouldn't have to use the floor

Anakin: That sounds amazing. What do you want to do?

You: I don't know. What do you want to do?

Anakin: I asked first

You: lol idk. It's just weird to talk about this with you

You: Not that I don't enjoy it, or want it. Just still feels weird.

Anakin: I get that, for me too.

You: I don't know if I'm ready to be idk, naked? I guess?

You: But I want to do more

You: I think I want to try giving head

Anakin: You don't have to do anything you don't want to

Anakin: I'd enjoy that a lot

You: g2g to class ttyl

Ben wasn't home, thank God, or else he could have walked in on Anakin stroking himself in the living room like a pervert. The image of your lips around him was too much to resist, even for the second it took him to get up and walk to his room. While fucking his fist, the fantasy escalated. Him fucking your throat harshly, feeling you gag on it. Him using your hair to drag your mouth up and down his cock while your hands were tied behind you. Once he came, he started feeling guilty about imagining you in such a rough situation. Anakin had no idea if you even wanted that, and he vowed to let you take the lead as much as possible. He also felt guilty about leaving another teeny tiny stain on the already suspicious couch when some cum dribbled down his hand, but it kind of blended in.

On Tuesday, he left his electrical engineering course when he got a text that stopped him in the middle of the hall.

You: Hey

You: So I am going to a sex store for the first time today

Anakin: Hey

Anakin: Wow ok exploring nyc

You: Should I get anything for this weekend?

Anakin: Idk, up to you

Anakin: Just choose whatever you want to try

You: ok i will pull up with a massive horse dildo for u then king

You: But seriously, I want to make it enjoyable for you too.

You: Do you have any requests for like outfits or something?

Anakin: fuck all the way off

Anakin: What? Like, shirts?

You: No

Anakin: Oh

Anakin: Whatever makes you feel good

You: But cmon you've got to have a pereference

You: *preference

Anakin: pereference

Anakin: I don't have a pereference

Anakin: You could say I don't perefer anything

You: Fuck off

You: Answer the question motherfucker

Anakin: Idk maybe black lace? Whatever makes you happy

Anakin: I've always wanted to rip fishnets, if that's something you want

You: Sounds like a plan

He liked the message and slipped his phone in his pocket as he bounced over to the student lab, ready to finish the Arduino gadget he was making for class. You in a lacy set sounded like a dream come true, mainly because he was almost certain he had that exact wet dream last year.

The four ensuing days allowed Anakin to think, for once, which was never a good idea. It grew new doubts to stress over. Had he accidentally pushed the idea of fishnets on you? What if you weren't into the stuff he was into, or if you decided you weren't into him enough to be able to do anything further with him, now that the horny initial haze had dwindled? He was considering this again while on the train, watching the upstate countryside roll by. Sometimes it was close enough to Minnesota that he felt like he was home, so he shot his mom a text saying he missed her, and that he'd call her tomorrow. He also had two unread texts from you.

You: Hey!! When you arrive just text me and I'll grab you

You: I'm excited to see you

Anakin: Hey

Anakin: I'm excited to see you too

Anakin: Lots of stories to share

Before he could think better of it, he typed out something he hoped would dull the constant questioning in his mind.

Anakin: Oh

Anakin: Also

Anakin: I feel kinda bad for bringing up something only I'm interested in the last time we talked about me coming over

Anakin: This should be about you

You: Takes two to tango, as they say

Anakin: Never say that again

You: I will say it again

Anakin: Shut up I'm trying to be serious

You: I'm saying that I'm interested in that sort of stuff

You: When I was at the store there were a bunch of things I wanted to try

You: Like wax and ropes

Anakin: Kinky

And, now, the question he had been nervous to ask, or even to think about. 

Anakin: Do you want to try them on me, or for me to try them on you?

You: Definitely you doing that to me

You: I've been doing research

You: There's a lot of stuff I want to try, if you want to practice with me

Anakin: Fuck that sounds fun

Anakin: Like what?

Was he letting his cards show too much? Maybe. It just felt too good not to ask.

You: Degradation, overstim, just idk. Rough in general

You: Down the road maybe rope

Anakin: Damn ok 50 shades of grey

Anakin: You have been doing your research

Anakin: That all sounds good to me, as long as it's good for you

Anakin: I can't wait to get there

The rush of excitement he felt at the idea of tying you up and fucking you until you screamed drowned out the notes he was meant to be reviewing in front of him, and the circuit diagram he was supposed to draw. 

He thought of you splayed out in front of him, covering those slutty lace panties in your juice until it soaked through the other side. He thought about his hand on your neck as you begged him to cum. And--fuck--you gagging on your knees as he thrust into your throat. He was hard--again.

But he had to remember what he was coming here to do, really. To tell you how he felt. He pulled out the piece of paper he had spent the past two weeks writing and rewriting in his mind as he did dribbling drills and soldered wires. There were four drafts in his desk, written out and crumpled into the back of the drawers, because he knew that one look at you in your room, giving him those desperate eyes, would wipe him blank of anything except how much he wanted you. After how platonic you were at the airport, he wasn't sure if he should say anything, because the distance over the next four years would make it so hard to be together, and you hadn't ever talked about long distance. Now, he looked at the paper and didn't know what to think. Did he really want to say words as big as "I love you" so quickly, so soon? The doubt plagued him as he looked over the final version of the letter, which was suddenly sappy and childish.

Since we were kids, I've considered you my closest friend. Someone who made me *me*. I started listening to Fall Out Boy because you did, I peel bananas upside down because you showed me how, and I only eat pepperoni pizza with olives and mushrooms because you've ordered it so much that it grew on me. I treasure you your friendship so much, and those feelings have been changing since we were younger to something more romantic. I don't know when it started, but when we kissed, I knew I loved--

He looked away. Why was he using the word love? He didn't know if you two would even work romantically. What if you went on a date and it felt just like your regular dynamic? What if he was a bad boyfriend, like he was to Padmé, and you didn't want him anymore? Was he about to throw years of your trust away?

He wasn't sure whether to tell you, at all. Anakin just wanted to know if you felt the same way about him, or else he'd lose more than just his pride. He had to give it more time. And, until then, this was all practice anyway. (He was really, really good at lying to himself.) He folded the paper precisely, and stuck it in his pocket. Just in case.

The train slowed with a screeching that rung his ears and arrived at Grand Central. From the moment he left the train, the station was packed with people. Everything was buzzing, from the voices shouting over each other to the side of his arm where someone smacked into him. The air was stale and warm from the bodies, which moved in completely unpredictable patterns through the vast space. If he was this overwhelmed, how were you faring in the city? He made his way to the subway station just a few blocks across midtown, then got on the 1, which was surprisingly clean based on everything he had heard about New York. Anakin half expected to be pickpocketed and to see rats on the trains, but the plastic yellow and red seats playfully shined at him, clean and inviting.

Before long, he found himself on Columbia's campus at sunset, walking through the buildings which all looked a little bit too similar to find your dorm. Carman Hall, there it was. Anakin texted you that he was outside and steadied his nerves. He would finally get to see you again. Hug you again. Kiss you again, a part of his brain that he dutifully shoved into a dark corner said.

Three minutes passed--he was looking at his phone clock for every one of the--and then the entrance clicked open. There you were. You looked amazing, and city life clearly agreed with you. You were wearing a simple denim skirt and green shirt, but you looked incredible. You had added a few ear cuffs, glinting in the dwindling sunlight, which cast your skin in a warm glow.

"Hey," he said into your temple as he crushed you back, "You look--wow." He pulled away and grabbed your shoulders, examining if you were still the person he knew. You were, he determined when you beamed at him. Your hand was still the same as he remembered when you flashed an ID badge, featuring a photo he had taken against a wall in your house, at the bored-looking security guard, who just waved you two by.

Anakin had just started telling you about how one of the midfielders, Rex, kicked the ball directly in the coach's crotch, when the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor, and he followed you down a winding hallway full of nameplates, whiteboards, and decorations. One room had construction paper black cats and pumpkins all over the door, which made him stop and smile. You stopped in front of a door that had fake leaves stuck to it, making it look like a tree was dropping paper leaves onto the floor. You unlocked the door, which groaned as it opened to show exactly the room you had sent him photos of, but with significantly more clutter on your desk.

"Welcome! This is my humble abode!" On the other side of the room, the girl sitting on her bed, cast him a withering glance. She had wide, doe-like eyes that he was sure probably hid a lot of mischief. Her hair was styled in twists she had gathered into pigtails that tumbled over her shoulders, with a string of beads woven into the crown of her head.

"This must be Jake," the woman he presumed to be Ahsoka said, scrutinizing him with her piercing eyes. Jake? Who the fuck is Jake? Anakin wondered as he tried to read your reaction. You spluttered, obviously not ready to have that piece of information revealed yet.

"No, no, this is Anakin! From home!" You put on a strained smile in an attempt to salvage the situation.

"So, you're not dating?" Ahsoka quirked up one eyebrow, not buying for one second that whatever she was seeing in front of her was platonic.

"No, not at all. I could never date him, he's my best friend!" You said too loudly, forcing the words out. Perfect. Just perfect. That solidified his decision. If you were friendzoning him this hard, and you were obviously trying to practice for this Jake guy's sake, then there wasn't any point in what he was going to say. The paper in his pocket was so easy to crush under his fingers, he almost wished he had done it sooner. It was stupid, anyway. This wasn't anything more than two people exploring new things. His feelings would pass, eventually.

Ahsoka shrugged and hugged you goodbye after she slipped off the bed and grabbed an overnight bag. She left, presumably for Barriss's room, and closed the door behind her.

In the silence left in the room, the words were on the tip of his tongue. Who's Jake?, he would ask nonchalantly. Like it didn't matter. Anakin stopped himself. It wouldn't do him any good to know more. Instead, he kept recounting the story of Rex making the whole team run sprints for the day with his crazy aim, albeit with less enthusiasm. In return, you told him about the suck-up in your Intro to Psychology course, who gushed to the professor that he loved his work and was his biggest fan. It was literally a 101 class, what was he trying to prove?

Anakin's pack lay forgotten by the door as you two recounted your weeks to one another, and for a moment it didn't feel like a new city, it just felt like home. He didn't even realize that it was night until you pointed it out, mentioning that you missed the stars that you could see from your yard. And the fireflies. But the city lights twinkled nicely enough that he couldn't see  a difference. You lapsed into silence, watching students walk out onto the street as stores pulled down their shutter doors. The bed was to your left as you stood watching the window, and your eyes glanced to it. 

"So, um. Want to watch some Netflix?" You said in your best approximation of a sexy voice, turning to your right and looking up at him in a way that you hoped was seductive. Anakin looked at your face and burst out laughing.

"If you want to do stuff, just ask!" He raised the pitch of his voice, imitating yours as he bit his lip fake-sexily. "Netflix and chill?" You grabbed one of the copious pillows on your bed and hit him with it. He caught it immediately and lobbed it back at your head, but you ducked at the last possible moment, so it hit the bed with a thump.

"Missed!" You giggled. That sweet laughter would be the death of him. When you caught your breath, the sweet smile he had stole your breath. 

"Um, do you want to... practice?" You asked. In truth, you wanted him, badly. Your eyes flitted down to his lips, which he immediately noticed and took as his cue to use the last of his willpower to make sure you were okay with this before kissing you silly, and hopefully doing more. Much more. He stepped closer to you, drawing you in with his arms around your waist.

"Just so that I'm perfectly clear. You don't have to do anything that makes you feel the slightest bit weird. We don't have to do anything now, at all. Or ever, if that's what you want," he said huskily.

"No, I do want this," you whispered, nodding and leaning in so that you were nearly touching noses, "I want you down my throat." Fuck. There went his self-control. He crushed his lips into yours, the softness of the previous time eclipsed by the need in both of you that had been building in between texts for the weeks you had been apart.

No. You had to talk this through. He had to know that you understood what you were getting into. Anakin pulled away, even though it killed him.

"We should talk more. No touching until we're done talking," he said, holding his hands up to prove that he was serious.

"Fine. But you're going to break first. I'd bet anything." You also held your hands up, defiant as ever. He was seized with the urge to make you obey him, and quieted it down as much as he could.

"Fine. I'll take that deal. Just, let's talk first. You said that you wanted to try rougher stuff, and I don't want to do that before I'm certain I don't cross a boundary," he said. He thought of himself last year, the guilt over Padmé.

"What boundaries could you possibly cross? I'm asking you to be rough." Anakin was still worried.

"Yes, but it's your first time giving head. I don't want to make it uncomfortable. Or, if I cross a line and can't tell... I just want to keep you safe. How about you tap me twice for good to go, three times for slow down, and four times for stop?" You nodded, giving him those same big eyes that made him want to absolutely ravish you. The time between you stretched, turning pliant and gooey as he searched your eyes for uncertainty. "Show me," he purred. He had poured some of the commanding tone into it that he wanted so desperately to use. You obediently tapped out the sequence on his arm, and he tossed you a smirk. 

"Okay. First of all, I won. You touched me first," he said, enjoying the way you were about to fight him on it, "And, second of all, shut up and kiss me." And you did.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

AN: Oh we are getting raunchy in the next chapter buddies!!!

Tag List (message me or reply if you'd like to be added!): @akixxrafiiy

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Hey its the enha request anon and yep that's the one! Thank you soooo much and I can't wait for whatever post you drop next <3

Teheh, this is the first part I hope you like it :) its been in my drafts for so long but I didn't come back around to clean up it until just now so my apologies (tbh my drafts are drowning in things i need to finish or just post but ive been saurrrr distracted)

When They Take a Prank a Bit too Far | Jake

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Jake had been a bit of a prankster since the beginning of your relationship with him. His playful nature was one of the things you loved about him, one of the things that made you fall so madly in love with him. Especially when one of his jokes could pull out the laugh and smile you loved so much.

But he had always been careful when teasing you. He knew you had the tendency to be a bit more sensitive. This time, he decided to take his pranks to a new level by pretending he was talking to someone else. Little did he know that this prank would end up testing your relationship in ways neither of you anticipated.

Jake had been planning the prank for a week, coordinating with his friends to make it as believable as possible. He wanted to see your reaction, thinking it would be fun to reveal the truth with a grand romantic gesture later. He didn’t consider the possibility that you might not confront him about it at all. You always had been slightly insecure, especially whenever you'd see videos of Engenes at fanmeets fawning over him. But you had a quiet confidence that made you pull through those insecurities. It was something he admired a lot. So he thought if you assumed he was talking to someone else you'd simply bring out a pouty face and ask him. And then he could assure you that it was just a joke.

In fact it stemmed from the fact that he had assured the guys you would do such. He swore up and down that he knew you best, and knew that you wouldn't take it to heart.

"My Y/N-ie may seem insecure, but they know I would never cheat on them." He had told the guys.

And it was no surprise that Ni-Ki proposed they should test this idea.

For the past few days, Jake had been unusually secretive with his phone, constantly texting and smiling at the screen. You noticed the change immediately. Usually, he was open with his messages, even asking you to reply to his friends sometimes. But now, he would quickly turn his phone away whenever you walked by, and he seemed to be lost in his own world, smiling at whatever was on the screen.

While you were curious at first- even coming to the conclusion he was pulling your leg, your initial curiosity turned into worry quickly.

Jake wouldn't be the type to pretend to cheat for a prank would he? You couldn't fathom your golden retriever aussie boy pulling a prank as risky as that. He knew how sensitve you were and always shied away from doing things that could unintentionally hurt you.

So while at first you summed it up to be a prank, you convinced yourself your saint of a boyfriend was not a prankster of this caliber.

Which immediaetly brought worry into your mind.

Was he talking to another person? The thought gnawed at you, making you feel insecure and anxious. You tried to brush it off, reminding yourself that Jake loved you and wouldn’t do something like that. But the nagging doubt persisted the more and more you saw his behaviors change.

The first time you had noticed Jake’s unusual behavior was during dinner. His phone buzzed, and he quickly glanced at it, chuckled, and then turned it face down on the table. Usually, he would share funny messages with you, but this time he kept it to himself.

"Who’s that?" you asked casually.

"Oh, just a friend," he replied, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.

You tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, but it only grew stronger as the days went by. Jake would often excuse himself to take calls in another room, and you could hear him laughing softly.

A laugh you loved so much.

Your heart ached with worry, but you kept silent, not wanting to seem paranoid. And not wanting to risk angering him if you were to ask.

One evening, you found yourself alone in the living room, scrolling mindlessly through your phone while Jake was in the bedroom, supposedly talking to his "friend." You couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy and insecurity as you watched the same reel for the eleventh time.

What if he was going to break up with you and leave you for the other person? Were you desperate enough to overlook infidelity just to keep him by your side? You felt ashamed believeing that you would.

You just loved Jake so much and it hurt to think that he was finding that love in another.

Maybe they kinder than you? Sweeter? Prettier? Funnier? Overall better. The thought made your chest tighten with anxiety. You never felt good enough to Jake. He seemed like a literal angel and you felt extremely lucky to have someone like him when you felt so underserving of him.

Maybe he had found someone who was deserving of him.

You tried to keep your composure, reminding yourself of the trust you had in Jake. He didn't seem like the type of person to cheat. But then again wasn't anyone capable of anything?

You told yourself it was impossible for him. But the more secretive he became, the more your resolve began to crumble. You found yourself lying awake at night, replaying every interaction in your mind, searching for clues or reassurance.

Did you do something to make him stop loving you?

Jake’s behavior didn’t improve; in fact, it seemed to get worse. He was always on his phone, and every time you walked into the room, he would lock it and smile at you with that same mischievous glint in his eyes. It was driving you crazy.

One night, after a particularly long day, you were sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. Jake was next to you, but his attention was entirely focused on his phone. He chuckled softly, his fingers flying across the screen as he typed a message.

Your heart ached with a mix of jealousy and hurt. You felt tears welling up in your eyes, and felt your lip begin to quiver, but you didn’t want to confront him. Instead, you quietly excused yourself and went to the bedroom, shutting the door behind you. You laid on the edge of the bed, burying your face in your arms as silent tears streamed down your cheeks.

You felt a deep sense of betrayal, wondering what you had done wrong. Why was he talking to someone else? Did he not love you anymore? The questions swirled in your mind, each one more painful than the last.

Jake, oblivious to your distress, continued his prank.

He was just sending mindless memes back and forth with Ni-Ki. It wasn’t until he noticed how quiet the living room had become that he realized something was wrong. He looked up from his phone and saw that you were gone. A pang of guilt hit him, and he decided to check on you.

Jake entered the bedroom quietly, expecting to find you reading or maybe even asleep. Instead, he found you laying on the bed, your shoulders shaking as you cried softly into your hands. His heart dropped. He hadn’t expected his prank to affect you this deeply.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked gently, sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him.

You tried to compose yourself, wiping at your eyes, but the tears kept coming. “It’s nothing,” you said, your voice shaky.

Jake’s heart ached at the sight of your tears. “Please, talk to me. What’s bothering you?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. “I just… I feel like you’ve been distant. You’re always on your phone, and I don’t know who you’re talking to. It’s like you’re hiding something from me. Did I do something wrong?" You croaked.

Jake’s guilt intensified. He had never meant for his prank to hurt you like this. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “It was a prank. I wasn’t talking to another lover. I was texting Ni-Ki. We were testing out how you would react to me being secretive. I didn’t realize it would make you feel this way. I thought you would have confronted me by now...” His round eyes were sad as he looked at you, his chin jutting you as he pouted.

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of relief and hurt. “A prank? You promise?”

He nodded, looking genuinely remorseful. “Yes, a prank. I wanted to see your reaction, but I never meant to hurt you. I love you, and I’m so sorry for making you feel pained.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the tension leave your body as you leaned into him. “You promise it was just a prank?”

“I promise,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “No more pranks that make you feel like this. I love you too much to see you hurt.”

Jake went out of his way to make it up to you, planning small surprises and showing you how much he cared over the next few days. And even asked Ni-Ki to explain to you that it was just a prank. He couldn't stress it enough.

It pained him even more than it had pained you.

One evening, as you both sat on the couch, he took your hand in his. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened,” he said softly. “I’m really sorry for making you feel like that. I never want you to doubt my love for you.” This had to have been Jake's one hundreth apology and you chuckled.

You squeezed his hand, grateful for his sincerity. “I know. And I’m sorry for not talking to you about it sooner. I just… I didn’t want to seem paranoid. But its okay Jake, I forgive you."

Jake shook his head. “You’re not paranoid. I should have been more considerate. I’ve learned my lesson.” He said snuggling up to you.

You smiled as he peppered kissed all over your head and face.

"Jake!" You giggled as he continued kissing you.

"Hmm?" He said pulling you closer. "Hmm?" He hummed repeatedly, emphasizing each one with yet another kiss.

You squirmed in his arms but he wouldn't let you go.

"I." Kiss. "Love." Kiss. "You." Kiss.

"I know!" You giggled once more.

"I." Kiss. "Love." Kiss. "You."

"I-I knowwwww!" You said trying to squirm out of his ticklish embrace.

"Mmm." He said pulling you back. Kiss.

"Jakeeeee."

"I'm not-" Kiss. "Letting-" Kiss. "You go-" Kiss. "Until-" Kiss. "You-" Kiss. "Say it-" Kiss. "Back." Kiss.

"I-I love you, TOO!" You squealed as his got to the sensitive spot on your neck.

He smiled and placed a chaste kiss on your lips, and pulled you into his side, picking up the remote and scrolling through the TV.

"I thought you said you'd let me go if I said it back." You mumbled in mock annoyance, pushing yourself even more into Jake's side if that was possible.

"Maybe I lied..." Jake said softly, stroking your hair as he settled on a drama you loved. "Because I don't ever want to let you go."

You sighed contentedly in response to his answer.

His few words unknowingly clearing any lingering doubts you had about Jake's immeasurable love for you.

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[tossawary]

Someone responded, "Howl would do chores for Sophie! He loves her so much!" to that Prince Turniphead house-boyfriend post about the "Howl's Moving Castle" movie where I said that Howl wouldn't reliably help around the house. And... no. No, I said RELIABLY, that's a really important word here, but also no.

Nothing about his home setup (the mess of the kitchen in the beginning, the RAINBOW BATHROOM, his cluttered bedroom) suggests that he's in the habit of picking up after himself. I don't think he's purposefully a slob, but I do think he's too distractible and thoughtless to do the required regular cleaning. I think he's a "I'll put this down here for now and deal with it later *proceeds to walk around this object every day for the next three years while doing more interesting / immediate things*" person at best. Being in love does not suddenly change all your habits as a person or your personal interests! I think Howl would definitely try (important word here) to do better for Sophie, but I think it would take a lot of work and he's kind of lazy about these things!

I do think he cooks. Movie Howl IS shown cooking with Calcifer and I think he and his fire demon could have fun with that task, very cute, and leave a mountain of dishes behind them in the process.

Also, (trying to limit referencing the books for those who haven't read them, but I can't resist here) Book Sophie is... kind of controlling and loves to complain? And can also do magic herself? When I said that Howl can't be trusted to RELIABLY do chores, it's partly because I don't think he'd be doing them to 1) Sophie's exacting standards and 2) in the EXACT way that Sophie wants it done. I think Sophie would in many cases decide that it's easier just to train Howl to better stay out of her way, honestly.

Especially because HOWL IS A WIZARD!!! You can't fucking trust those assholes with a simple chore! It doesn't occupy their brains enough and they're ALWAYS going to think, "I bet I could invent a spell to do this for me," and that's how you get floating dishes or animated broomsticks or a fucking water spirit in your house. It's the hubris! Can't smack it out of wizards with a stick!

Howl swallowed a star and made a deal with a fire demon! He built a giant walking castle that was holding together JUST using magic (it completely fell apart at the end of the movie) and wandered freely around the country! He was pretending to be two different people to run businesses and then abandoned the buildings when the government caught up to him! I'm pretty sure he used a magic spell to SQUAT in Sophie's family's former hat shop! He impersonated the king! He dodged the draft literally afterwards in an airship battle! He nearly irreversibly turned himself into a bird monster and fought bombing airships by HIMSELF - and there's no way that Sophie wasn't confusedly picking black feathers off the floor. He summoned the spirits of darkness and started turning into ooze because his hair dye came out the wrong color!

Howl would TRY for Sophie, I believe that. I just also think that he'd rather use magic to completely renovate the entire house than actually scrub floors. I think he would invent an incredibly ugly magical vacuum cleaner for her and Sophie would love it so much that she would choose to overlook the fact that it tries to eat the carpet and curtains and the dog sometimes. I think that if Book Sophie was told she could melt wizards with a bucket of soapy water with a little bit of lemon juice (like the Enchanted Forest Chronicles), she COULD DO IT by choosing to believe it, and Howl hides from her and that bucket because he loves her but she's TERRIFYING.

If Sophie's sister Lettie was visiting and Sophie was panicking because she hadn't had the time to dust on top of the guest room wardrobe... whatever the magical equivalent of shoving all of your stuff into a closet at the last minute to make the place LOOK clean is, THAT's how Howl would help.

[nightmare-writes]

Succubus Soulmate pt.2

Wanda x Succubus!Reader

Hello everyone! Long time no see. I apologize for the unintended hiatus, life got in the way of me writing on here. I found this sitting in my drafts and I felt like some of you might have wanted to read it. I can’t guarantee that I will write another part of this soon, but if enough people want to see it I can write a part 3. Anyway! I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: masturbation (Wanda) it’s mostly very fluffy and domestic otherwise.

Summary: Your first few days on earth!

You stared at Wanda as she sat huddled up against her wall for a moment or so. You’d never been in this kind of position. You’re used to having some sleeze bag summon you, use you for two minutes, and then go straight back to the underworld while said sleeze bag knocks out in his post nut bliss. With this being your usual, you had no clue what you should do in this situation.

Eventually you fell asleep curled up on the couch with Wanda sitting awkwardly right next to you.

The more Wanda sat there, the more she started to think over logistics. What was she meant to do when she goes into work tomorrow? She couldn’t call out sick so she would have to leave you alone for a few hours. She couldn’t trust that you wouldn’t try to do anything silly while she was away, so she got to ‘succubus proofing’ her apartment.

She didn’t have any baby locks for cabinets so she assumed duct tape would have to do for now. She duct taped all of her cabinets shut, along with the fridge doors, the oven, the microwave, and anything she thought you could get into. She duct taped the cabinet in her bathroom with all her cleaning supplies in it and then went around to every window to duct tape the locks so you couldn’t access them. It felt like she had just gotten a new, untrained, puppy that she needed to ensure wouldn’t accidentally kill itself by drinking bleach thinking it was milk. It took her a few hours but she felt like she had successfully ‘succubus proofed’ her home. She rewarded herself by going to her bed and passing out for the night.

It felt like the moment Wanda closed her eyes, she had to open them back up. Her blaring alarm clock gave her no reprieve as it woke her up. She shut it off before getting ready for work as she usually did.

When she got out to the living room, she saw you were still curled up and resting. She felt a bit guilty as she gently shook you awake, but she needed to talk with you before she went off to work.

You groaned as the movement of your body got you out of your dreamland and forced you back into reality. Rubbing your sleepy eyes, you looked up to Wanda and mumbled “Mornin” almost too quiet for her to hear. She had to admit that you did look cute all sleepy, but she couldn’t be distracted from the task at hand.

“Look, I have to go to work so I’m gonna lay down a few ground rules for when I’m gone.” She says firmly while crouching down to be at eye level with you. “You’re not allowed to leave apartment unless it is burning down or someone broke in.” She starts and you interrupt by saying “If it was burning down I’d stay right where I am, I finally wouldn’t be freezing to death. Do you like living in an ice block?” which garners you an eye roll from the red head. “Second rule, don’t touch any of my things unless it is this remote or-“ she says while looking around for something for you to eat. She spots the cheerios she had set out and decided that that would be a sufficient food source for you before she could go grocery shopping. She scampers over to grab the box from the kitchen along with a water bottle before returning to your side and placing the box and bottle on the coffee table. “- this cereal and this water, got it?” She added. “What if I don’t like the way it tastes?” You ask while poking at the box.

“Well it’s just for now, I’ll be back with more food for you. What do you even eat?”

“Souls of the damned” you say with a straight face before laughing at the disgusted and slightly horrified expression on Wanda’s face. “I usually just eat meat, but now that I’m stuck as this flesh sack I guess I’d eat whatever humans would.”

“Okay, noted.” She says while looking around to see if she needed to say anything else. “You can watch whatever you want on the tv, I have a few streaming apps if you wanna look through those too.” She says and you look at her like she was speaking a whole other language. “What the fuck is a tv.” You deadpan and Wanda thinks you’re joking again until she realizes that you’re serious. “What did you think the remote was for?” She asks and you simply say “A vibrator”

Wanda couldn’t help but laugh while saying “Why in the world would I give you just the remote to a vibrator?” You shrug as Wanda sits down next to you and explains the wonders of the television to you. When she turns it on, you were absolutely terrified at first. You yelped and hid behind her while she giggled at your antics. “It’s not going to kill you, here let me show you how it works.” She says softly while gently coaxing you out of hiding. She didn’t want to put on anything scary since she didn’t want you to think it was real, so she went to her disney+ account and put on some kids show that her coworkers kids absolutely loved. “You can watch this while I’m gone, okay?” She says while gesturing to the colorful dogs that were dancing on the screen. The moment your eyes hit the screen, you were entranced by what you were seeing. You didn’t look away from it as you nodded.

Wanda gave you a small pat on the head before setting the box of cheerios next to you so you’d actually remember that they were there. She moved her hands in front of your eyes when you didn’t turn to look at her and you immediately swatted her hand away so you could continue to watch. She just giggled to herself before saying “Have fun, I’ll be back soon.” and heading off to the office.

You quickly learned that your first favorite thing on earth was a show called Bluey. You’re second favorite thing were the delicious crunchy circles that Wanda gave you. You had devoured the entire box of cereal after about 10 or so episodes of bluey and you wanted more. You figured out how to pause the funny dogs on the television so you could go find more crunchy circles.

Your quest begins in the place where Wanda brought the box from in the first place, the kitchen. You were greeted by a collection of places where the sugary treat could be, but when you tried to open up one of the cabinets it was stopped by something. You let out a low growl at the offending silver strip before your short nails grew into fierce claws that tore through it. The first cabinet you opened was filled with random white disks. You grabbed one and tried taking a bite to see if it was tasty like your crunchy circles, but it didn’t break in between your teeth so you gave up on it.

You spent a few more minutes tearing through all the tape in the kitchen and looking for snacks. You eventually stumble upon a heavy bag that was easy to rip open. It was filled to the brim with tiny white crystals that looked edible, so you gave it a lick. You were instantly hooked. It tasted so yummy, kind of like the crunchy circles but this time it was just the sweet tasting part.

You returned back to the couch so you could keep watching the silly dogs while licking your delicious new treat.

———————————————————

Wanda was thankfully able to get off of work early and was able to convince her supervisor to let her work from home for a few days by giving some excuse about having to take care of some relatives child while they were in the hospital for a bit.

She returns home to see you, still sitting on the couch watching the show she put on earlier, but now you were eating something that was definitely not cheerios. “Hey, what are you- are you eating my sugar?!” She exclaims while taking the half eaten bag away from you. You whine and try to take it back from her but she hold it up above her so you couldn’t reach. “How did you even get this?” She questions while shutting the tv off. “I wanted more of this but there wasn’t any in the tiny compartments in the food room so I found that and ate it.” You say while picking up the box of cereal and holding it up. Wanda’s gaze moves over to the kitchen to see all the ripped up duct tape. She sighs and says “I’ll get you more cheerios, okay? No eating just sugar, it’s bad for you.” before giving you a reprimanding bop on your head. She almost changes her mind when she sees the adorable pout on your face, but she stays strong. You give in with a small nod while mumbling “No more… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’ll do better next time.” She says softly while sitting down next to you and hesitantly rubbing your back. You let out a soft purring sound before leaning against Wanda’s side. “More bluey.” you say while pointing to the television. She just chuckles to herself while switching the show back on. “We have to work on your manners, a please would be appreciated.” She says half jokingly.

————————————————————

After you went to sleep, Wanda went about making preparations for the next day. She went back and decided to hide the sugar bag somewhere else in the kitchen. She also put back another layer of duct tape just in case you got any ideas of stealing again.

She went on a late night trip to the supermarket to get a few boxes of cheerios for you and some general groceries since she was running low on practically everything. While she was browsing, she noticed a cute pair of pink mittens and got an idea to stop you from tearing through the duct tape again.

When she got home, she put the groceries away before making her way to her bedroom to make a few modifications to your new mittens. With a bit of ribbon and a lock for each hand, she successfully made a way to keep your hands locked in place. Was it a little evil? Maybe, but you did break a rule that she explicitly said… and the thought of you needing her to do everything for you was too tempting to pass up. She imagined your cute pout as you looked up at her and begged for her to hand feed you your cereal, or having to help you drink your water, or having to beg her to touch you since you couldn’t touch yourself…

Her mind began to wander towards the delicious sounds you would make. Would you whimper and whine while not using your words or would you be begging for more the entire time? Would you be quiet or loud just for her? These questions were burning her mind and sending a certain undeniable heat to her core. As she laid on her bed, her hand slowly crept down her stomach and into the waistband of her panties. She was soaked just from her little fantasy of you. She was desperate to feel your soft, supple skin under her fingers. She wants to squeeze and mark every inch of her body for herself. Her fingers make feather light touches around her clit before slowly speeding up. She was doing it just the way she liked it, but it didn’t feel right.

It didn’t feel right cause you weren’t the one touching her.

While she wanted to keep going, she knew she wasn’t going to get anywhere. She pulled her hand out and inspected her fingers that were dripping in her arousal. Her thoughts immediately went to you sucking her fingers clean before she shoves them down your throat so you’d gag on them.

“Get yourself together, Wanda” she muttered quietly to herself while rubbing her face. To stop herself from getting too carried away, Wanda forced herself into the bathroom to take a cold shower and then straight to bed.

——

“You want me to wear what?” You questioned while pointing towards the offending objects in Wanda’s grasp. “I told you not to touch anything and you did it anyway. So until I can trust you enough with your own hands, you’ll be wearing these.” She says while showing you the pretty pink mittens she made for you. You knew she was getting a kick out of this. A part of her wanted to humiliate you and that was clear from the way she was trying not to smile or the way her hands were slightly shaking. The tell tale sign though was the distinct scent of arousal wafting off of her. You knew she had no clue that your sense of smell was leagues above her own, but what she didn’t know didn’t matter. What did matter is that Wanda was starting to express her sexual interests, while indirectly, with you. You felt some weird sense of pride that she was maybe more of a pervert than you thought.

You sighed and held your hands out for her. “Alright, get ‘em on me.” You acquiesce and almost instantly Wanda gets your hands into fists so she could fasten the mitts. When they were both padlocked, you couldn’t stretch your fingers out so it was impossible for you to rip them. “Happy?” You say while waving your imprisoned fists up towards her. “Very” Wanda states before getting the next episode of Bluey on for you. “I’m going to be in the other room doing some work, you stay here and watch your show. I’ll come back in an hour for lunch.” She explains while going to the kitchen and returning with a bowl of cheerios for you. She sets the bowl on the couch next to you before giving you a small pat to the head. “No trouble while I’m working.” She reminds you before going off to work in her room.

——

You could tell that the redhead was distancing herself from you. Whenever she could, she would work in another room than you. She would come check up on you occasionally to make sure you had food and that you were drinking water since “Humans need to drink water to survive.” While it was odd, you did enjoy being doted on even if it was for a few moments. You could tell Wanda was enjoying herself too, but she was too nervous to fully let herself go.

After the fifth time of noticing Wanda checking on you from her bedrooms doorway, you decided to put matters into your own hands. You fiddled with the remote to turn it off before tip toeing over to Wanda’s room. You give it a soft knock and ask “Can I come in? I’m bored.”

You could sense the hesitation from the other side of the door. Wanda was anxious to have a real conversation with you. It was safe to keep your conversation to a bare minimum. The sokovian couldn’t imagine the things she’d admit if she spoke to you for longer than five minutes. However, she had to rip the bandaid off. She couldn’t just leave you to waste away in front of her tv all day. “You may.” Wanda pipes up and you fumble with the door handle until it opens up. “Stupid cloth hands.” You whisper while glaring down at the pristinely pink fabric that was still tightly locked around your hands. “You can sit on the bed if you’d like.” You barely heard Wanda when she said it. You didn’t want to tease her about her nerves since it was easy to tell it might’ve made things worse. You sat down on the edge of the bed closest to her, bouncing a bit on the springy surface. Wanda didn’t look away from her laptop and continued to type away at it as she sat next to you. You scooted closer to her until your cheek rested against her shoulder. You looked over her laptop screen to see a collection of tabs open while Wanda’s cursor was frantically switching between all of them. Her logic was that if she could overstimulate her eyes then she wouldn’t have to think about how close you were to her.

“What are you doing?” You ask while nodding towards the chaos unfolding on the screen in front of you.

“Working.”

“Working?”

“Mhm, this is what humans do for money.”

“What’re you doing to the screen?”

“Important technological stuff. You wouldn’t get it.”

“It doesn’t look that hard, you’re just looking at different pictures.” You point out while putting one of your mitts to the screen.

She sighs when she realizes she’s been caught before closing her laptop. “You got me, you’re more clever than I thought.” Wanda praises you before giving your hair a quick ruffle. You lean into the touch before Wanda could pull her hand away which leads to her giving you a few soft pets. “Now why did you come in here? I thought you’d want to sit and watch your show.” She asks while slowly moving her hand away from you. You whine quietly as she does and Wanda has to resist the urge to play with your hair. “I told you I was bored. I wanna do something.” You reiterated while turning your gaze up towards Wanda’s face. She sits there for a moment thinking about what she could do with you since she was also rather bored. “Why don’t we watch a different show together? I’ll make you a new snack to try.” She suggests and you eagerly nod your head at her idea.

——

“Here, try this. It’s called popcorn.” Wanda says while sitting next to you with a bowl filled to the brim with a new treat for you. You examine this ‘popcorn’ and after giving it a few sniffs you decide that it was good enough to eat. You try to pick up a few pieces but your mitted fisted could barely do anything. Wanda noticed your struggle and giggles to herself. You could tell that she wanted you to ask for help since she was too nervous to offer it herself. “Can you help me eat this?” You ask the redhead and you immediately notice a spark of an idea in those bright green eyes of hers. “You have to ask me nicely if you want help.” She says smugly while watching your face to see if she might’ve stepped over the line. You groan but give into her. “Can you help me eat this popcorn… please?” You ask again and she happily takes a few pieces in her hand and up towards your mouth for you to start snacking. Your face lights up as you’re hit with a completely new taste. “More! Please- I want more popcorn.” You blurt out before opening up your mouth slightly as Wanda feeds you some more popcorn.

——

Wanda soon put on one of her favorite shows, Malcom in the middle, for the two of you to watch as she continued to feed you. You could feel Wanda’s tension start to ease as more episodes went by. She hasn’t had anyone to watch shows with in forever. It’s always been something she did with her family, but since she moved countries that was near impossible now. It felt blissfully domestic, which was something that Wanda didn’t know she wanted until now.

After some time, you fell asleep curled up next to Wanda as the show continued on in the background. Wanda wasn’t paying any attention to it though, her sole focus was on you.

I hope you all enjoyed! Leave a comment if you want to see this story continue.

[cardboardclownery]

CRASHES THROUGH A BRICK WALL

HI HI IM ALIVE!!!! sorry for the relative radio silence on here ;v;

on the topic of that actually!!!! finally have a proper folie a deux au update for you!! though its slightly different than expected?

me and professional buddy and fellow au creator @cookiecaker decided to share a summary of the story we're making for the au beforehand since we'll be taking a whileeee to finish it,,, got a lot of life to live and horrors to create "-v-

after this though you mayyyy or may notttt see some out of order chapter drafts posted for the story as well,,, or atleast one? eh youll see ;Pc

ANYWAYS!!!! this is gonna take a while so lets get on with...

THE FOLIE À DEUX DOAI AU

a summary!!

or story pitch? idk-

(cookie please lemme know if i miss or improperly describe anything here feel free to correct me-)

PART 1

the first three chapters follow alex just after the end of volume 1 as theyre abducted by lankmann and confined to his asylum as a "patient." eventually they get sent to winfrey as food, but winfrey refuses to eat them. theyre left to die in room 66 by lankmann for a Long While, until eventually he gives up and just puts alex back in their room

while alone in confinement, alex starts noticing strange things happening... dark patches start appearing on their skin, they get random pains as if someone were kicking them, and they hear a voice... a much clearer voice than the ones they used to hear while working in the asylum, and it seemed to be able to read their thoughts. though they originally just assumed it was due to being part of their thoughts as well, they find that they start knowing things they had no way of knowing and never learned prior to being confined. when lankmann typically entered room 66, how long hes inside, certain areas of the asylum patients found that theyd never heard of before...

this "voice" managed to help alex find a way to escape, leading to them running away and moving to another, smaller town in eastridge than the one they originally lived in to avoid lankmann's pursuit

PART 2

[ ! tw for cannibalism. yes you heard me- ! ]

so after getting far away from the asylum, alex assumes that their hallucinations and weird symptoms of... Something would wear off, since subject 02 was no where near close enough to affect them

well uh. nope! theyre still there!!

so eventually alex figures out "oh shit that thing is in my head somehow" and is obviously quite concerned!!! to say the least!!!! but theyre also oddly comforted by the idea of having The Voice in their head, since now theyre not entirely alone while on the run and i mean it helped them escape so it cant be that bad?? either way theyre not exactly excited about the whole ordeal and theyre starting to look different and theyre really hungry all the time and its not fun

so! at some point (with winfreys suggestion) alex decides to run off to another town a bit farther away just to be safe. but Uh Oh theyre all out of food!! so theyre extremely hungry, forcing themself through it so they can get food when they arrive but. they see someone in the woods while walking

and for some reason that makes them even hungrier

they try to ignore it and keep walking but they cant

and the next thing they know

theyre looking down at a person

chewing off the flesh on their leg

covered in blood

even after regaining their senses they cant stop themself from eating. it tasted... so good... they were so hungry... they felt awful but it really did taste so s o g o o d .

in a haze, they discard the body, clean themself off and reach the next town. just after unpacking in an apartment, they collapse, flooded with the emotions they fought off on the way there

the next day, alex finally confronts winfrey (or winfreys voice rather-) about all their grievances and they eventually reach an understanding, as winfrey opens up about fearing the outside of the asylum despite longing to escape through alex, so they eventually agree to let winfrey pilot their body for a few days to get a feel for how the world has changed since the time winfrey had been free

in doing so, winfrey realizes how small and helpless humans are in comparison to them and how terrified the patients they devoured mustve been. this allows them to appreciate human life (specifically alex's) much more and want to escaped in their own body to join alex outside and introduce clyde to what they learned after finding it again

while piloting alexs body, winfrey is suddenly forced back into their own after lankmann inflicts enough pain to wake them from the dissociative state that piloting alex left them in. soon after this, winfrey overcomes the fear that was originally keeping them from escaping the facility and breaks out

PART 3

this section is a lot less figured out than the rest so uhh bear with me please ;v;

essentially this couple of chapters just follows alex and winfrey as they get used to life on the run, figuring out where to go from there and how they could potentially find clyde, along with just talking face to face and getting used to that. its a weird feeling talking to someone that you share thoughts with yknow? like talking to yourself but its... not... yourself...

around the start of this section winfrey also expresses that they feel drawn to feminity as a human concept, thus being referred to with they/she from this point on in the story!! transfem winfrey yippee!!! it just makes sense in our head idk-

PART 4

alex and winfrey start noticing news broadcasts and posters asking around for a "dark figure" lurking around, as well as warnings about alex being missing from lankmanns asylum. this fuels alex's paranoia, leading them to seeing lankmanns caretakers everywhere, feeling as if theyre being watched wherever they go... until eventually their home is ambushed and theyre taken back into lankmanns custody

alex is essentially used as bait to get winfrey to come save them from the asylum, since lankmann couldnt find a solid lead on where winfrey could be. alex tries to convince her not to fall for it, since they can both tell this is what lankmanns trying to do, but winfrey eventually caves and breaks back in to help alex, getting trapped inside once again

PART 5

depsite the circumstances, winfrey and alex do their best to stay determined and keep looking for a way out, but they dont make much progress. to make matters worse, lankmann tries "live feeding" patients to alex in the same way he did with winfrey due to realizing that alex has veldigun traits and assuming that theyd have the same appetite as her. this isnt the case, and eventually lankmann switches to dead patients as food for alex, which theyre forced to accept due to lacking any other options

both winfrey and alex are miserable in the situation, the helplessness sinking in fairly quickly as alexs body begins rejecting the growing veldigun portions of itself, decaying under the immense stress

during their final moments, winfrey pilots alexs body to allow an atleast somewhat peaceful death as their consciousness fades away, leaving winfrey alone to reflect on all that had happened...

...and thats the official end of the story!! i had like,, a hypothetical epilogue/alternate ending where lankmann forces a Mind Merge with winfrey somehow and then gets killed and she breaks out again but like. idk the logistics of that are iffy and i kinda prefer the more melancholy end for something like this ":]c

ANYHOW!!!! hope that was!!! something!!!! please feel free to ask questions or provide feedback or anything else im always happy to engage with my fellow freaks (affectionate) :]

ALSO IF YOU MAKE CONTENT BASED ON THIS AU LET ME KNOW I WILL DIE FOREVER alright thats it for real this time- stay safe broskissss BP