#i have no idea what to title this if anyone has ideas u can feel free to send it my way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherryredstars · 10 months

Note

Idk what wrong with me but I've been craving some highschool oneshot, or anything tbh

So I hope if u could do badbad!Miguel x goodgirl!nerd?

I have no idea what I meant by goodgirl!nerd,let just make her an good girl who always an big time nerd in the school,who loves helping people out,especially when it come to tutoringor tutor some students,so when miguel ask for her to tutor him,so he could catch up with his grades,she say yes to him,but he really didn't need the tutoring he just wanted to play around with reader (he would been craving for some of her attention,he would have an interest in her without anyone notice) he loved teasing,flirty, and most definitely love making her all stuttering and blushing mess,but what he hate how people who think that have their advantage over reader,eye fucking her with their eyes,it just makes his blood boil,his fist clenching in anger,but he deals with them later (beating tf out of them for thinking that they can touch what his) but not feeling satisfied he just had to show u who u belong to,and make you his,so on one can try to get u before him

Idk what wrong with me like I can write when I'm zoned out (also could u pls put nfsw pls)

Anyway have an great day

Pairing: Badboy!Miguel O’Hara x Goodgirl!Reader

Warnings: Protectiveness, Suggested Physical Fighting, Smut, Slight Exhibition, Marking, Praise, Lots of Curses and Mentions to Disney

Summary: All good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you. (Get it..like the song)

A/N: THIS REQUEST IS SO!!!

Word Count: 4.5K (Barely Edited)

It doesn’t take much to notice you.

He sees you all the time, sitting in the front like the good little girl you are. Batting those innocent eyes up at every teacher as you shoot your hand up to answer every question with a bashful smile. Eyes you as you go up to different students, reminding them of tutoring sessions or offering help. His good little girl just wanted to make sure everyone graduates with passing grades. Just want to be so helpful for everyone, to feel needed. He could make you feel needed. Only if you’d let him, only if you needed him as much as he needed you.

When he calls your name, your head shoots up instantly to turn to him. Your cheeks heat up when your eyes meet his, a smirk spreading on his face. He calls you over, finger forming a ‘come here’ motion. You instantly obey, getting out of your seat and standing over his desk. You flutter your lashes shyly at him, fingers fidgeting together as you try to kill the redness on your face. Miguel hums lazily, hand reaching out to play with a strand of your hair resting on your shoulder. Your hair is soft and silky against his fingers, his eyes watching as it twirls around his fingers.

“Tutor me.” He says simply, eyes blazing a lazy trial up to your face. His expression is one of boredom, except his eyes are glistening with mischief.

The eye contact makes you flush deeper, face practically a tomato as you refocus your gaze to his ear to avoid his gaze. A stuttered response leaves you, uncertainty masking your voice as you ask him what he needs help with. The question momentarily pauses his movements. Truthfully, he doesn’t need help with anything. He has a high class rank, closely following behind your up and coming valedictorian title. In the end, he replies with science, a class he has a perfect grade in. You instantly agree, shyly giving him a time and day to go to the library for his sessions.

He always shows up a few minutes early, you find him on his phone as his feet are propped up on a secluded table with his chair leaning on its back legs. A lazy smile crosses his face as he watches you walk over, not caring for the science workbooks you set down at the table. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze, finding it hard when he sets his feet down and leans closer towards you as you explain the material in quiet, stuttered sentences. He simply hums along to your explanations, not really listening as he brushes his shoulder against yours, accidentally grazing your hand when he points to a random paragraph, pressing the side of his knee against yours under the table.

Each touch makes you stop talking, body tensing as a flush covers every inch of your skin. His touch burns against your skin, causing your voice to waver and fingers to tremble. He drinks in every reaction, interrupting your explanations with questions whispered too close to your ear in a flirty tone. They’re questions he already knows the answers to, but he just wants to keep hearing you talk and stutter. He’ll make you late to your next tutor session with a pout, teasing that he still doesn’t understand what you’re trying to teach him. It always causes your eyes to soften towards him and make you promise that you’ll move your schedule around to make room for a sooner tutoring session. It always causes Miguel to puff up with pride at his clever antics and for his heart to beat faster at the thought of spending more one-on-one time with you.

When he’s not with you in his lovely tutor sessions, he keeps his eye on you. He watches you in the cafeteria as you offer someone your lunch because they didn’t bring any money and don’t have anything to eat. He smiles slightly to himself whenever you get stopped by an underclassman and you fuss over making sure they get to the right class and don’t end up lost in the halls. He gets slightly annoyed and furrows his brows when you hold the door open for a long string of people and only a few of them acknowledge your kindness with a thank you. You’re just so nice and he wishes he can have that sweetness of yours all to himself. Especially when he sees some random ass fuck trying their go at you. Because, of course you’re not just nice and smart, you’re a total fucking knockout.

You have the sweetest little face paired with a body any man would get on his knees to worship, (a thought Miguel thinks about very often in the comfort of a bathroom or his bedroom), the shiniest fucking eyes that always blink up at everyone like they’re the most interesting damn thing you’ve ever met, and a voice that drips of honey and hidden sex appeal. And if it isn’t your looks that instantly draw them in, it’s that perfect personality of yours. Always kind and patient and funny. You’re always walking with someone in the halls, making everyone you’re with laugh and crave to be the subject of your attention. You’re a goddamn magnet, and everyone wants to be connected to you. You’re the type of woman that would convince any man to settle down, to drop to a single knee and ask you to be his for life. Because everyone knows that you’re a once in a lifetime girl and no one will ever come close to you. Every boy (and some girls) in this damn school wants a chance with you.

And that pisses Miguel the fuck off. Because while you’re wife material, most boys here don’t even meet the requirements to be considered boyfriend material. Sleezy fucks who want a trophy wife that will suck them off after they come home from some meaningless job that they sit around all day doing nothing at. Immature cunts who think they’re funny when they poke fun at insecurities and claim it's a joke. Disgusting toddlers in overgrown bodies who don’t deserve to be in the same universe as you are. But, of course you’re still nice to them, and of course they think it means they have a chance with you.

Miguel is always clenching his jaw and preparing his fists whenever he walks into the library to meet you after one of your earlier sessions to see some disney channel-looking fucker trying to sweet talk you. Key word being ‘trying’, because he can tell from a mile away that you’re still trying to be patient even though your body language screams ‘I am so close to slapping this boy with my textbooks’. The thought makes Miguel snort out a laugh that instantly dies as he watches some Zac Efron wannabe lean closer towards you. The asshole’s eyes instantly drop to your chest, where your textbooks are causing your boobs to be pushed together, revealing the most mouthwatering sight. Miguel’s eye is practically twitching when the dude’s slimy fingers come to run down your arm with the ugliest smirk Miguel has had the displeasure of seeing.

Miguel doesn’t hesitate to walk over, walking slowly as he stops at the end of the table with a bored and displeased expression on his face. The boy, who’ll probably end up as a drug addict in his 20s, looks very annoyed at his presence. Even muttering something about Miguel being a ‘cock-blocker’ under his breath. The retort makes Miguel lift his brow in surprise. He didn’t know Mickey Mouse Junior even had a dick. Must be one of his magic mousekatools, he concludes.

Miguel ignores him, instantly turning to you. The grateful look on your face as you stare at him makes Miguel puff out his chest, proud of himself for making you feel better. His body loses the tiniest bit of tension as you smile softly at him. “He bothering you, princesa?”

You instantly widen your eyes, moving to shake your head when Donald Duck speaks up, “I think you’re the one bothering her, actually.”

He must have been a mosquito in his past life, Miguel thinks to himself, it would explain why he’s so fucking annoying. Miguel turns over to Shrek’s brother and stares him down. The boy instantly looks like he might piss his pants, but keeps his position as much as his wobbling legs can, “I think you should leave Miguel. I’m sure she’ll be…preoccupied for the next hour or two.”

His comment makes you cringe from the applied meaning and Miguel sees absolute red. He has to laugh at what this fucker thinks would have happend if Miguel didn’t show up. Yeah right, like this motherfucker could last that long. Miguel grabs the front of his collar with a tight grip, almost pulling the poor boy over the table. A vein is visibly running down Migue’s neck as his jaw clenches.

“Puta madre. Cuando termine contigo, no podrás tocar nada nunca más.” Miguel grinds out, shaking the worthless piece of shit slightly before turning towards you in a nicer, softer tone, but still laced with a bit of tension: “Go find us a nice table, hermosa. I have to take care of something real quick.”

You can only nod, watching as Miguel leaves with the boy out the back entrance of the library. You wince slightly as the door closes rather loudly, feeling a bit of sympathy for the boy who most likely won’t schedule another tutoring session once Miguel comes back. You spend the next 20 or so minutes preparing the secluded table Miguel likes best. Laying out all your books and supplies, sitting still and then getting antsy and shifting things to straighten them every few minutes.

When Miguel finds you, he walks over with his hands in his pocket. He looks just like he did a few minutes ago, his hair just slightly disheveled. Your heart might have actually stopped when his hand leaves his pocket to grab yours that are drummin nervously on the wooden table. His hand is rough compared to your soft one as he bends down and brings it to his face. His lips are soft, if not slightly chapped, when he presses a fleeting kiss to your knuckles, mumbling an apology for taking so long as he stares into your eyes. Your eyes are wide as you stutter out reassurance that it’s fine. Miguel simply hums before dropping your hand and going to sit down. He pauses when your small hands grab his once again.

Your thumb strokes over the redness and slight purple color of his knuckles, something that definitely wasn’t there when he first came in, hinting at what happened outside of the library building. A slight crease appears between your brows and your lips are in a sad pout.Your eyes don’t leave his hand when you mutter, “You’re hurt.”

Your concern makes Miguel slightly happy, liking the idea you care for him. He slips his hand into yours, bending back down as his hand goes under your chin to lift your face. Out of sight from peering eyes, he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, mkay?”

Your stuttered and shy state makes him smile, muttering how cute you are as he finally sits down. You have to clap a hand over your mouth to conceal a squeak when Miguel grabs the seat of your chair and pulls it closer to him, practically connecting the edge of the chairs. He casually throws his arm over the back of your chair, not doing any dramatics like faking a yawn or stretching. You stare and blink at him, nervousness bubbling in your stomach as he leans in closer. “Are we going to start or what, mami?”

He keeps his smile to himself, watching as you clear your throat and scramble to open your science textbook to where you had left off the last time. He just sits and watches, fingers ghosting over your shoulder gently, feeling nothing like the other guy. He listens to what you’re saying faintly, pointing at some diagram in the book. He thinks you asked him a question because you stare at him patiently, yet expectantly. He turns to you, shrugging, “Can’t see the model clearly.”

You nod, moving to push the book closer to him before his hands are on your waist. He leans fully back into his chair as he lifts you off yours and into his lap. He pulls the book in front of the both of you, head resting on your shoulder as he hums. “That’s better. Now ask the question again.”

Your brain stops functioning for a second, Miguel’s hands leaving your waist to rest against your legs, fingers slightly caressing the side of your thigh. Your nervousness makes you squirm, and his hands instantly grab onto your thighs tightly with a hiss. He grinds out for you to ask the question again, but he doesn’t sound aggressive. His voice sounds more pained and desperate. You nod with a gulp, hesitantly reasking the question that he pretends to think about before answering correctly just to hear your praise.

As you continue talking, Miguel’s fingers rub the skin just below the ending of your skirt. You try to ignore the touches, but your body melts against his front as your voice quiets and you shift your body slightly to press into him. Miguel’s breath tickles your neck and your thighs clench as a single finger slips under the material of your skirt. It just barely skims over your panties, and your breath hitches. Miguel smirks at your reactions, asking you what’s wrong as he slowly moves your leg so it hangs over his leg. You’re a stuttering mess, brain malfunctioning when his hand comes back and caresses the crotch of your panties. Your cheeks flush, knowing it’s damp in arousal.

A quiet groan leaves Miguel as he moves your panties to the side, letting his fingers rub against your bare pussy. Sticky fluid instantly clings to his fingers and his head turns to press kisses against your neck, his free hand coming up to your chin to tilt your head to the side for more room. Your hand comes down to hold his arm, eyes closing as the tips of his fingers tease your entrance. When he hears your slight whimper, he looks up to your face and pulls his fingers away, moving them to trace circles in your inner thigh.

The small sound you make in protest causes him to chuckle, “Shh, shh. Keep talking, baby. You’re supposed to help me, remember?”

You open your mouth to protest but his fingers are back, this time slowly sinking into your heat instead of just teasing with his fingertips. Your eyes instantly close again and you let out a shuddering breath. You open our eyes, trying to focus on the words in the book. When you begin to read and explain a scientific equation, Miguel’s fingers reach knuckle-deep into you. You can hear the muffled sound he makes as he continues to suck and kiss your neck. Your weak explanation is cut off when he pulls his fingers back and pumps them into you, curling his fingers. The beginning of a moan is let out before your hand clasps over your mouth. Miguel laughs evilly as he continues moving his fingers.

You're sure this is a game to him. Everytime you stop explaining things, he stops and tells you to continue. But once you start talking, his pumps and curls his fingers faster, causing you to cut yourself off when sounds of pleasures. You’re a mess by the time you finish your explanation, hips grinding into Miguel’s hand and fingers clutching to the edge of the table for stability.

Once you say your last words, Miguel speeds his fingers up and bites into your neck, “Good girl. Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl for me, yeah?”

You don’t hesitate to nod, face screwed up in pleasure as you reach closer and closer to the edge. Miguel leaves your neck, licking the bite soothingly before tilting your face back towards him. He muffles the loud moan you make as you gush around his fingers with a deep kiss. He bites and sucks on your bottom lip, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he savors the taste of your lip gloss. His tongue swipes over the seam of your lips, causing you to part them as his tongue explores your mouth.

His fingers move to lazy pumps, working you through your orgasm before stopping completely. Your body shakes slightly against his, and he smirks into the kiss before pulling away. His fingers reappear from under your skirt, covered in your white cum. You both watch as he part his two fingers, white strings connecting the two. You let out an embarrassed whimper, watching as Miguel brings them up to his mouth, licking them clean. Your taste instantly floods his mouth and he practically rolls his eyes back. Of course you’d taste so fucking sweet and delicious. His fingers leave his mouth with a small pop, hurriedly coming back to kiss you again. A shy moan leaves you at your own taste.

Miguel’s hand moves your other leg, spreading you out fully so both of your legs are pressed into the sides of his thighs. His hand leaves your chin and scoots you further up his leg, working on undoing his jeans just enough to stick his aching cock out of his underwear. The head is red and leaking, precum sliding down his length. His hand comes to pump himself before he moves you back over him, his cock resting against your ruined panties.

“Move your panties to the side for me, yeah?” He mumbles against your lips. You comply instantly, pushing your panties to one side, moaning when Miguel takes a hold of his cock to align it with you. He pushed slowly into you, his hand releasing his cock to hold onto your thigh and to cover your mouth as you continued moaning out. He throws his head back with a choked moan the moment he bottoms out, holding still to bask in the way your tight cunt swallows him and squeezes around him.

“Feels so fucking tight. Feels like I’m in heaven.” Miguel hisses out, his hips thrusting into you experimentally.

The cutest of mewls leave your mouth, causing Miguel to nose your cheek almost lovingly. He takes his time, lazily thrusting into your pulsating pussy in an attempt to hold himself back. But he’s wanted this for so long. He’s wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to just be near you since the moment he laid eyes on you. And he’s here, in the goddamn school library, and you’re letting him fuck you as you sit on his lap. It feels like a scene straight out of some fucked-up erotica or porn video. Would it be too much if he started thanking you until he’s a babbling mess?

A strangled noise leaves Miguel when you start fucking bouncing on his cock, impatient with his slow speed. Instinctively, his hips speed up. The sound of wet squelching filling the small, unoccupied section of the library. Anyone can walk over, some poor student or librarian in need of a book only to find his good girl riding his cock so desperately. The thought makes his balls tighten and he has to distract himself before he blows his load into you too soon. He buries his head into the curve of your shoulder, shifting the hand that covers your mouth to stuff two of his fingers past your lips. Without even asking, you start sucking on them as you lift your hips up and down.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl, princesa.” Miguel praises into your ear, his hand leaving your thigh to pinch and play with your neglected clit. It causes you to squirm and for your steady riding to falter. “Oh fuck. Taking my cock so well, yeah? Taking it is so good for me. Holy fuck!”

More curses leave his mouth as he pounds into you, shifting his hips until he hits that gummy spot inside of you that causes you to wrap your arm around his neck to hold on for dear life. Your pussy just keeps quivering around him, milking him for the cum you so desperately need to be filled with. The cum he wants to fill and claim you with. The thought of you walking out of the library, hell going to tutor another student, with his cum flooding your pussy and dripping through your panties is something he’s fantasized about for months. His pure, innocent girl tainted with how dirty she is by fucking him of all people, in a place where anyone can see how naughty she really is.

“Miguel!”

The sound of your muffled call makes his eyes snap open from their closed position, He looks up at your face, watching as a line of drool drips from your stuffed mouth. He has to groan and give you deep thrusts as a thank you for the pretty sight. As he thrusts, he realizes how much your walls have contracted, practically trying to trap his cock inside you. He notices how much your body is beginning to twitch and he knows you’re close. Your eyes look hazy and the muffled moans you let out add on to how close you must be to coating his cock.

“Wanna cum on my cock, love? Gonna cum and make you all mine, yeah?” He whispers into your ear, slowing his fast thrusting in exchange for hard and deep thrusts that cause you to whine. You desperately nod your head, babbled and incoherent nonsense being said around his fingers.

Miguel let out a low chuckle, speeding up again and relishing the happy noise that vibrates in the back of your throat. Your walls clench around him like a heartbeat for a few blissful moments before you're screaming around his fingers as your back arches and thighs shake. Miguel moans as he feels you cum around him, the lewdest noises coming from your wet cunt as he hammers into you for his own release. A sweat builds up on his face as he drives into you, trying to push in and out of your tight walls that only seem to tighten the more he thrusts.

“That’s my good fucking girl. Came so beautifully around my cock.” He mumbles, looking down to where the two of you are connected to see the most gorgeous white ring at the base of his cock. He can feel himself twitching inside of you, on the brink of exploding.

Miguel bites into your neck as one last act of claiming as he spills into you, his hips not stopping as he pumps you full of his seed. A delirious moan comes from you as you feel his warmth, but you seem happy as you melt into him. Your skin is sticky from sweat, arousal, and Miguel’s saliva when he pulls his face away from your neck. The bite mark is red against the purples beginning to stain your skin. He can feel himself getting hard again at the sight of it, but he refrains from taking more than what you’ve already given him.

He lifts you up slightly, moaning as a mix of cum slowly falls from your hole, dripping onto the underside of his semi-hard cock. It drips down, merging with the cum that still sits at the base of his dick. He makes you stand between his legs, your upper body pressed against the table as you try to recompose yourself as Miguel lifts up the back of your skirt to study your glistening pussy and thighs. He pressed a small kiss on your pussy lips before readjusting your underwear to cover you again. A proud smile graces his lips as he watches the previous wet spot in them get darker from the cum still trying to leave you.

When he pulls the skirt back down, he finds you looking over your shoulder with a shy look. His beautiful good girl is back to her doe eyes and flustered cheeks. Miguel tucks himself back into his underwear, zipping himself back up. He takes the time to lazily look around, amazed that no one realized what was happening or witnessed it. He stands up off the chair, looking back towards you and wraps one of his arms around your middle to pull you up against his chest.

The tiniest of squeaks leaves you as you meet his hard chest again, looking up at him with amazement. You can’t help but study his face, admiring the way his lashes flutter as he blinks and the way he looks good from even this angle. HIs eyes look down at you briefly, a lazy smile coming over his face as he shakes his head. He works on packing up your things for you, closing the unneeded textbook and stuffing it and your other supplies back into your bag. When he’s finished, he shifts his face down towards you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

The sappy smile that appears on your face makes his heart beat fast and for his own cheeks to heat up. He gulps and clears his throat, looking away as his hand starts rubbing the skin it rests over. He slings your book bag over his shoulder, the pastel color of it a large contrast over his entirely black attire. He stares back down at you, pushing hair out of your face and tilting his head at you.

“Do you have another tutoring session to go to now?” He whispers softly, smiling when you shake your head no wordlessly. He hums in pleasure, his arm sliding from around your center and down to your hand, dwarfing it in his. He gives it a tight squeeze and pulls you with him as he starts walking towards the exit. You follow him with no resistance, just hurrying your pace to keep up with his long strides.

“Where are we going?” You ask as the afternoon sun instantly hits both of you when you walk out the door. He pulls you straight to his car, opening the passenger door for you and closing it before putting your bag in the backseat. You watch without question through the windshield as you buckle in and he rounds the car to go through the drivers’ side door. After he buckles in, he turns and starts reversing, not answering until he’s out of the parking spot and turning the wheel back to straighten it.

“Imma take you home so you can change.” He says simply, turning to throw you a quick smile before grabbing your hand again and intertwining them as he clutches onto the gearshift. “And then, I’m going to take you out on a date.”

Part 2

Literally the longest thing I’ve posted because I love this request so much! I now reached 100 pages in my writing doc. As always, SpanishDict was used.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x you #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #across the spiderverse smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 #cherry's requests🍒

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leviathans-watching · 10 months

Note

can i request a continuation of this post: (https://www.tumblr.com/leviathans-watching/655248256619724800/brothers-or-datables-with-an-mc-whos-given) if u havent already done so ? n if u have done a continuation than can u link me to the post :) ? thank

finally calling the dateables by a pet name

includes: the dateables x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .6k | rated t | m.list | pt 1

a/n: this was a blast from the past! i hope you enjoy!!! my inbox is open to chat, req, and leave feedback so come say hi

please reblog this yall

➳ diavolo frowns, thinking about your behavior towards him. you weren’t acting strange, warm and kind to him as ever, but he can’t help but feel a distance from you when he considers how intimately and familiarly you call everyone else. “what are you thinking so hard about?” you tease gently, giving him a smile, and his frown deepens. should he say anything? or would that be childish? you roll your eyes. “just spit it out,” you chasten, and so he does. “i was just thinking about how you never call me by a pet name. it’s not fair.” you can’t help but laugh; considering everything the demon lord and acting demon king has to focus on, he’s hung up on this? “you want me to? i just thought you might find it rude for me to discard your title. but i can call you by a pet name–in fact, i’d be glad to. how does ‘tiger’ sound?”

➳ barbatos adjusts his collar slightly, unable to pinpoint why he’s so irritated. all you’d done is paused in your conversation with him to ask simeon to get something, weaponizing your pet name for him to make the job get done faster. oh, that was it. you’ve never once weaponized a pet name against him. he doesn’t know what kind of face he makes at the realization, but you notice something’s wrong and give him a questioning look. barbatos smiles thinly. “sorry, i hope you don’t mind the request, but can you call me a pet name? i’m afraid i’m feeling a little left out.” you blink at him, and he grows somewhat self-conscious. “sorry, forget it, it was a weird ask of you.” “no!” you hasten to reassure him. “absolutely, i will. now, baby, will you go help simeon? i think he’s struggling.”

➳ simeon hasn’t really, you know, dated before. so it’s not unusual for him to do research, making sure he’s being a good boyfriend by looking at the most reputable of resources: teen girl magazines. but when he finds an article about ‘picking the perfect pet name for your partner’, he realizes you’ve never once called one another by a pet name. you call the others familiarly, but not him… he does what anyone would do and sets out to remedy that. “hey, mc,” he begins, “do you think we could call one another by pet names? this article says it’s a good way to further a relationship and deepen the bonds between a pair.” “just what are you reading?” you ask with a chuckle, but give in, quite liking the idea. “how does ‘sweetheart’ sound?”

➳ solomon puts at you. “call me by a pet name! you call everyone else one but are only rude to me! it’s not fair!” you raise your brows. “fine. i had a few i wanted to try out anyway.” your easy agreement should have been a sign; you spend the next few days calling him every variation of pet name. it’s funny when you call him ‘studly’, mildly embarrassing when you shout ‘snuggle buggle’ across the cafeteria, and just plain annoying when you refer to him as ‘shortcake’ for an entire conversation. he gets back at you when you call him ‘wild thing’, stating, truthfully, that he likes that one and it’s a keeper. “fine, wild thing,” you smirk. “love you.” “i love you too, sugar plum,” he says, enjoying how your face contorts.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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a-kaash-me-outside · 5 months

Text

a bit dirty - ch6

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch6 [masterlist]

// a really great idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ~ 7392 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, squirting, sex in a bed!!, a lot of feelings and love!!!!, intimacy in more than just the bedroom fr, names names names pet names a million pet names, oral f!receiving, afab she/her pronouns

tori talks: oh good god guys we're finally here. thanks to everyone who is going to read this last chapter even though it literally took me over 6 months to write it. i hope you enjoy it and i'm glad it's over and that it happened. ily all. hope u enjoy. ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

you’re not sure you’d admit it to anyone, but walking into osamu’s apartment for the first time feels like coming home after a long day at work. you can see yourself here, more than you can in your own apartment or your childhood home. you feel just a little bit more like yourself, shoulders relaxing in a way that you didn’t think they needed to, breath a tiny fraction steadier. you’re not sure you’ve felt this comfortable in a really long time.

you don’t have to ask him where to put your shoes or where to hang your jacket, and he doesn’t take them from you either. he doesn’t put them away for you or tell you to hang them on the hangers in the empty closet down the hall.

when he unlocks his door and pushes inside, you mimic his motions, placing your shoes gingerly on the rack to the right of the closet between his white sneakers and black work shoes, hanging your jacket on the empty hooks above the spot where you've just retired your shoes.

stepping deeper into his apartment, he offers a small, “so, welcome,” he says, gesturing to the living room, one hand softly wrapped around yours as he tugs you along. stepping past the barrier of the front door, further into osamu’s space, you don’t feel like a guest here. you just feel like you belong.

“oh my god, it’s so clean in here,” you say, a few paces ahead of him now, but he refuses to break contact, to let go of your fingertips so he walks quickly along with you.

“well, yea, i’m not really ever home,” he explains, shrugging, as you walk around his living room eyes stopping at the neatly organized coffee table with cork coasters and a yellow hard-covered book titled this book will make you kinder, at the photos on his wall of him and his brother and him and his restaurant and him and suna, at the plants in the window sill and the dustless, dirtless ledge beneath them.

you shake your head, “no, that’s not true. you come home after work and you’re here before you leave for work, and i’m sure you’re super busy leaving in the morning and super tired when you come home at night, so it’s really impressive that it’s really clean.”

he lets out a half-laugh, a breathy light scoff in the place of a real response. you turn around, looking at him directly with a mischievous look on your face, “unless you cleaned your apartment just for me tonight?”

osamu’s quiet, a very telling silence, a wordless admittance. “oh my god!” you say, hands on your hip, and the slight hold that he has on your fingertips isn’t broken yet, his hand now pressed against your side, fingers curling around your hip as he pulls you a little closer.

“okay!” he admits, “so i am pretty tidy anyways, but there may have been a few dishes in the sink and the bed might not have been made and the couch cushions didn’t look that good before but-”

you shake your head, clicking your tongue, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you tease, “how presumptuous of you that i would come back here after our date?”

“i didn’t think we’d just fuck in the bathroom again, baby, what was i supposed to do, you literally said-” he says, trying to explain himself, unstoppable smile on his face as he pulls you even closer to him.

“do you think i’m that kinda girl? to just fuck you on the first date?” you ask, palm flat against his chest now, the other hand snaking up to lazily drape around his neck.

he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around you tight around your arms and shoulders, holding you in place as he laughs so deep that it sends tingles and shivers down your spine and skin. “you’re very funny, y’know that?” he asks, squishing you against his chest as he presses kiss after kiss into the top of your head.

“you made the bed? fixed the couch cushions? samu, i mean, really, what did you think was going to happen tonight?” you giggle, emphasizing every other word dramatically as you squirm in his tight grasp.

“i mean,” he says, leaning back to look at the warmth on your face, the fluster that lies with it, “you are here, aren’t you? i couldn’t have been that wrong if the cleaning paid off.”

you giggle harder now, leaning up and pressing a kiss into wherever you can reach in his strong hold. “i sure am,” you agree. he loosens his grip, hand falling down your arm to thread his fingers with yours again. he pecks a small kiss against your lips and then your cheek.

“you sure are,” he says, warmly.

you really could’ve stayed in the middle of his living room forever surrounded by couches and books on shelves and an impressive entertainment system. you didn’t need any of it either, didn’t need a place to sit or things to keep you busy, you’d be really happy just staring at osamu for the rest of time, at hearing him laugh, at feeling his pulse in your palm.

“can i getcha a drink?” he asks, pulling you out of this mellow, love-struck state in the name of hospitality.

“only if i can come with you,” you say, looking over his shoulder into the kitchen. your motivation is 70% wanting to stay with osamu and 30% wanting to see what his kitchen looks like: what kind of mugs he has, where he keeps his silverware, if his knives and pans are on display or tucked away in cabinets.

“clingy,” he teases, smile huge because there wasn’t any way that he was leaving you alone for even a second.

“fine! i'll stay in here,” you pout.

he doesn’t respond, only laughs and pulls you by the hand, “come on, pretty.”

you don’t protest anymore, following along happily into the kitchen, forcing yourself to sit on the barstool in front of the bar rather than snoop in his cupboards and drawers. he’s hesitant to let his touch fall from yours, to let go of the contact he has on your hand and your hip, but he does, presses a small kiss into the side of your head, and walks deeper into his kitchen.

from here you can see the kettle on the counter and the knives on a metallic strip above the black countertop. the pans are nowhere to be seen. they must be hidden away somewhere safe. you don’t say anything and neither does he as he pulls wine glasses and mugs and cups out of the cupboard and places them on the countertop in front of you.

and you still don’t feel like a guest.

it feels like osamu getting you a drink is because he loves you, like you could get up and get your own if you wanted to, like you already knew where the tea bags were and the spoons and the shelf that the sugar resided, like next time you would return the favor, let him sit down for a minute while you made the two of you tea or poured another glass of wine.

“what’s it gonna be?” he asks, gesturing to your choices on the bar in front of you.

“y’know you could’ve just asked me that before pulling out all the cups?” you tease, eyes moving from cup to mug to wine glass.

he shrugs, “not as visual.”

“what are you in the mood for?” you ask, reaching to pick up the mug, black ceramic with a gray stripe along the base. you turn it over in your hand, running your fingers along the matte texture. yeah, this feels like a mug osamu would own.

“anything, really,” he says, smiling before the rest of the flirt even comes out of his mouth, “as long as i’m drinking it with you on my couch, i will be very happy.”

you roll your eyes. it’s really unfair how predictable, yet how adorable, he is when it comes to things like that. “alright, how about wine now, tea later?” you ask.

he rests both of his hands on the edge of the counter for a moment, nodding as he does, removing the cups from the counter and pushing the mugs towards the tea kettle. “sounds like a plan, angel,” he says, disappearing behind the pantry door and coming back with a bottle of wine.

he doesn’t recork the wine or put the bottle back, leaves it exactly where he sets it on the counter in a rush to just drink wine on his couch with you. he carries your glass for you as he guides you back to the couch.

sitting on the plush, perfectly set cushions, tucking yourself into the corner against the arm rest, osamu pressed up against you, pulling your legs over the tops of his, his hand resting comfortably on your calf, you’re not sure you’ll ever really be ready to go back to your own cold, lonely apartment. when you close your eyes, you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now.

your first glass of wine isn’t even finished before he interrupts your current conversation of favorite movies and media with a stupidly cute, nervous question, “so, can i ask you now?”

you want to be stunned or at least fake it, but you can only lean closer into him, setting your wine glass down on the coaster on the coffee table to wrap both of your arms around his bicep. “ask me what?” you tease.

he shakes his head, “y’know that night i thought you were so out of my league.”

you lean backwards, mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “no fucking way.”

“swear,” he laughs, leaning forward to set his glass down next to yours, “and i was out of my depth, had no idea what i was doing, just couldn’t stop staring at you-”

“oh, i know,” you say, recalling his smitten, lingering stare so perfectly that your face feels warm, “every time i would look over in your direction you would be looking at me like this.” you mimic your recollection as best as you can.

he puts his face in his hands. “that’s so embarrassing,” he says, and it’s muffled by his palms. you wrap your hands around his wrists, pulling them away from his face and kissing the backs of them.

“no, no, it was cute,” you say, but he still groans. you continue, “samu, i was into it, obviously.”

he explains further, “sumu was like shoving me over there so blatantly that i almost didn’t go over there.” he shakes his head at the memory, at the alternate universe where his stupid brother alone failed to start the best chain of events of his life. “and then omi leaned over to me and was like, ‘i'll distract your dumbass brother, go have a good night, you deserve it.’”

“remind me to thank him then,” you say, softly, shifting against the couch to lean against his shoulder instead of the armrest.

“will do,” he says, smile in his voice as he snakes his arm around your waist, hand resting on the side of your thigh. “i’ve thanked him plenty for both of us, but it might mean more coming from a new mouth.”

“you just say the most romantic things like it’s nothing,” you say.

“i don’t try,” he admits, “just hard not to be romantic when i’m with you.” he reaches across you with his other arm, pulls you further into his lap until both of your knees are on either side of his thighs and you’re facing him. “sorry,” he mumbles, “wanted to look at ya.”

“you’ve gotta be doing this on purpose,” you whisper.

his fingers scrape against the tops of your tights before rooting on your hips. he shakes his head. “it’s all you, really,” he whispers back. “these thoughts just come into my mind and i say them. love you so much, you make it easy.”

you’re very grateful for this position because it’s effortless to lean down and crash your lips into his, to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him deeper into the kiss, to feel his chest lift to kiss you harder. he tastes like expensive wine and a little bit like you still and you might cry, he’s just really perfect.

he places his hand on your shoulder, holds you in place as he leans back into the couch. the pout is already forming on your lip, so he runs his thumb across it gently. “will you be mine?” he asks, adding before you’ve even answered, “let me love you with labels.”

“oh my god, samu, you’re going to kill me, y’know that?” you say, hands cupping both of his cheeks before kissing him sweetly. “how do you expect me to keep up with this?”

“just say yes,” he says, quickly, “that’s enough for me.”

“of course,” you say, forehead resting gently against his, kiss placed on his nose and then the high of his cheekbone. you repeat it again just in case he missed it the first time, “of course.”

“i’m sorry that i didn’t make this happen sooner,” he says, soft sigh accompanying his remorseful tone.

“stop that,” you hush him.

“i mean it,” he says, sitting up into you a bit more, “if i would’ve figured my shit out sooner, we could’ve been doing this for months.”

“yeah, but you don’t know if everything would’ve turned out the same way,” you say, bringing your hands up into his hair, “if that would’ve been too soon or if we needed to go through all we went through to be as strong as we are now, there’s no way to know, really.”

he smiles at you, not opening his mouth to say anything, just soaking in the moment, humming at your astute thought. you continue, “i guess i just mean that, yea, getting more time with you would’ve been great, but we can’t do anything about that. so i’m just really glad to be with you now, here, drinking wine and sitting in your lap and kissing you.”

“and you say i’m the romantic,” he murmurs, kissing you once more.

“you are,” you argue.

/\ /\ /\

neither of you even finish your first glass of wine. even if you had, there was no way the two of you were untangling from each other and making your way into the kitchen for another, not in the middle of unimportance conversations about your thoughts on christmas lights or osamu’s thoughts on the type of pet he’d like to have one day.

but as the hours tick on, as the clock hands droop lower and lower, osamu knows that you need some sort of transition period to staying the night. “cup of tea before we go to bed?” he asks, head resting against the back cushion of the couch staring into your eyes with as much love as he can.

“are you being presumptuous again, samu?” you tease, but your eyelids are getting heavier and you can’t put a lot of effort into the taunting.

“i’m sorry, princess, do you want to stay the night?” he asks, gut-wrenchingly sincere.

“i would really love that, yea,” you say, flustered in the backfiring of your banter, “and tea sounds really nice too.”

he nods, once, short and happy, ready to move you off of his lap to go get the two of you a final drink before bed, but you get off of him first. “i’ll get it,” you offer, waiting with bated breath for him to fight you on it or to be weirded out by the forwardness of raiding his kitchen to feel the domesticity a little harder.

he doesn’t protest at all, lets the smitten, lingering stare last for a few moments before saying, “only if i can come with you.”

before you’ve made it to the kitchen with osamu in tow, he stops you, plants in place in front of the hallway to his bedroom, and nods towards it. “but first, can we get you into some comfier clothes?” he asks. “nighttime tea tastes better when you’re in comfy clothes,” he reasons. you can’t disagree.

you follow him down the hall to his room. you don’t get a good look at his plainly decorated room or the nicely made bed as you wait in the doorway. he returns quickly with a t-shirt of his. “you can change in the bathroom across the hall if you want,” he offers.

“you know you were inside of me in a fancy restaurant bathroom hours ago, right?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, pushing past him into his room and taking off all of your date clothes. osamu folds them neatly as you set them on the bed. when he picks up your torn tights, he can’t hold back his small laugh.

“oh yea, so funny,” you joke, “you can probably throw those away.”

“but they’re perfectly good for having sex in public bathrooms,” he jokes back.

you pull his shirt over your head, soft cotton taking the place of going out clothes and the difference is already lulling you to sleep. you’re determined to make osamu tea, but you can’t promise most of the cup won’t go cold on the counter.

it doesn’t take long for osamu to be on you, arms wrapped around your waist, hands roaming over your body, “you look so good right now.”

“shut up,” you say, pushing him away with the least amount of resolve anyone has ever had, “imagine how i feel looking at you wearing stuff like this.”

“you look better in it than i do,” he says, shaking his head.

“not possible,” you say back.

he leans down to kiss you once before reluctantly pulling away, walking back over to his dresser to change into comfier clothes as well. if you weren’t so stupidly tired, seeing osamu shirtless and in super casual sweatpants would’ve been the perfect catalyst for your first night together having sex in a bed.

tea. sleep. tea. sleep. tea. sleep. you remind yourself.

“c’mon, angel,” he coaxes, pulling you by your hand back down the hallway and into the kitchen. he leans against the countertop, doesn’t say another word or try to make you tea despite your earlier statement.

you start the kettle with the push of a button, pull the mugs from across the counter in front of you. you pluck two tea bags from the glass jar where they live. you have to open a few cupboards before finding the spoons, but the sugar is right where you think it will be.

“i think knowing that you take sugar in your tea is both the most surprising thing and also somehow completely aligns with who you are,” you reason, pouring the gently boiling water over the tea bags. by the time you finish your sentence, you’ve noticed the enamored look on his face, but you don’t have time to comment on it as he replies.

“that’s because you know me really well,” he says, nodding, loving smile still lingering. you put half of a spoonful of sugar into the cup, stir until it dissolves and then slid it against the countertop to him. he wraps his fingers around the warm cup, brings it to his lips, blows on it gently as if that’s going to do anything at all, and then takes the smallest sip. “perfect.”

you lean against the edge of the counter, holding the mug in your hands, waiting for the air to cool down the steaming beverage. “i think i’d be really okay with ending every single day of my life just like this,” you admit. if his eyes go wide or he recoils even the smallest percentage, you’ll blame it on the eventful day and the exhaustion that’s quickly overcoming you, but they don’t. his features soften, hand reaches across the counter to rub the back of your hand.

“me too,” he reciprocates. “you’ll have to stay over more often,” he doubles down.

“what?” you ask, taking a sip of your tea. you can feel the warmth hit your stomach. “have dinner ready for you when you come home and spend your nights off intertwined on the couch?” everything that you’re saying is getting closer and closer to practically asking to move in, but osamu doesn’t seem to mind.

“exactly that,” he murmurs, “you’ll have to see if you like my bed first, though, before you resign yourself to coming over every night.”

“every night?” you ask, cheeky smile the only form of teasing that you’re giving right now, “maybe we should go check it out then.” you take one more sip of your tea and then set the cup down on the counter. osamu doesn’t even do that, pulls you away from behind the counter and down the hall.

you climb into his bed, under his covers without asking or another mention. osamu joins you, climbing into the other side, and the two of you don’t waste a single second, curling up against each other, limbs lazily tangling, pressing up against one another as close as you possibly can.

“the first time we’re in a bed together and we’re not even having sex,” he says, softly, reaching over and turning off his bedside light. it takes a few moments for your eyes to get adjusted, to make out the shapes of his face in the dark.

“crazy, right?” you ask, smiling as you snuggling into his chest impossibly closer.

“i like this though,” he admits, traces his fingers up and down your arms, “just being in bed with you, falling asleep with you, means i get to wake up with you.”

you hum at his voice, soft and deep, and the darkness looks the same as it does with shut eyes, but you’re trying your best to not let the sleep take you that fast. “can you keep me awake?” you ask.

“you’re literally falling asleep as we speak,” he says, your eyelids fluttering shut as if to make a point. you shake your head, but you don’t say anything else. “why do you want me to keep you awake, babygirl?”

“cause i wanna be in this moment a little while longer,” you reason, breath taking over your voice as the darkness and warmth pull you into a comforting hug.

“we’ll have plenty of time for moments like this later,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “plenty of time, so go to sleep, angel.”

you’re not even embarrassed at how quickly you listen to him.

/\ /\ /\

if last night wasn’t enough to convince you that you were exactly where you needed to be for the rest of your life, waking up in osamu’s arms definitely was. they’re strong around you, wrapped tightly around your waist, nose nuzzled into the back of your neck, legs intertwined with yours.

you’re incredibly surprised that you’ve woken up first, but the second that you start to stir, osamu’s grip loosens, and his head peaks over your shoulder and he places a small kiss on your cheek. “mornin’,” he says, raspy as he talks off the sleep.

you turn in his arms, laying flat on your back so you can look at him directly. “good morning,” you say back, lifting your head to kiss him. “very good morning,” you say again.

“cute,” he murmurs against your lips, “stupidly cute.” you reach your arms up, draping them over his neck loosely to pull him down into you. “do you want breakfast or something?” he asks.

you shake your head, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “no,” you say, “well, maybe later? i think right now i just want, y’know, this.” you gesture with a small nod not really towards anything in particular, just to the situation.

he laughs, kissing the side of your face, “alright, this it is.”

you don’t say much else. nor does he. it’s all stolen kisses and roaming touches and silent exchanges. you don’t feel the need to talk, don’t have much to say, you’re communicating just fine without them.

every touch is getting needier, every kiss is getting longer, sloppier, more desperate, and the only thing that you’ve been able to think about for the last hour is all of the promises that have been made to you about after date things.

it doesn’t help that he’s on top of you now, tops of his thighs resting between your legs, hands on either side of your waist just looking at you like that. the first thing you say in over an hour is, “what, samu?”

he laughs, pushing his fingertips up your body, under the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and up until your entire stomach is exposed. “god, you’re so hot,” he says, grabbing onto your waist to pull you closer to him.

“samu,” you whine.

“what, doll? it’s true,” he says, pushing your shirt up even further now, tits on display so pretty that you can feel him begin to grow hard against your inner thigh. “so pretty,” he murmurs. he tugs your shirt off, tosses it to the side with no regard for the tidiness of his room anymore.

you’ve really never been this exposed before when you’ve had sex with osamu, always an article of clothes on, but now the only thing stopping you from being completely naked is the thin fabric of your panties and osamu’s fingers are already hooked in the waistband. you don’t protest as he drags them down your thighs, picks up your legs and rests them on his shoulder as he does.

he presses a kiss into the side of your leg, slowly drops them back around him. your stomach is in knots, can barely breathe with the way that he’s looking at you, eyes traveling down your body so slowly that you can see each point that they linger a second longer.

“fuck, you look good,” osamu says, leaning down to kiss your shoulders, your collarbones, your chest.

“shut up,” you murmur, fingers threading into his hair, scratching against the back of his head as he scrapes his teeth against your sensitive skin.

“no, i’m serious,” he says, leaning back, “you’re so fucking pretty, gorgeous actually.”

“ew, shut up,” you push him away jokingly, gently, “or i’m not going to let you fuck me unless we’re fully clothed ever again,” you joke.

he laughs against your neck, breath and vibrations tickling the wet skin. every single kiss feels personal, hand-crafted and perfectly thought of just for you. the placement is direct and purposeful and you can feel his love in every single one.

“god, i’m going to take my time with you,” he says, pulling away again. you can feel the blush blooming under your skin, warming up every inch of you, igniting fires in your stomach.

“first time that we have a lot of it,” you joke, coaxing him back up to your lips. “and first time that i don’t have to be situated on a sink or the floor.”

“so you’ll be perfectly comfortable,” he says, kisses trailing between your tits and down your stomach, “while i eat you all morning long.”

“samu,” you say, crook of your elbow rising up to your face to hide behind it. he reaches up, pulls it away from your face.

“don’t hide from me, doll, look so cute like that,” he says, laying between your thighs, pushing them open with familiar hands. you give in to the gentle pressure so easily that you swear you hear the faintest laugh coming from Osamu, but the light kisses peppering your thighs that follow gain your focus instantly.

it should feel agonizing, the way he takes his time dragging his lips across every part of the skin between your legs, kissing and biting lightly. but the longer he’s there the more laughter flutters through your chest, the more your cheeks flush, the more loved you feel. you bring your hands to his face as he rests his head against your knee cupping one under his jaw and using the other to push his hair back a little.

“make me feel so pretty, samu,” you mumble. he makes no attempt to answer, just holds your gaze with loving eyes as he brings himself to ghost near your already soaked pussy, the feeling his breath overwhelming any of your other senses.

“just want you to see yourself through my eyes, princess.” the end of his sentence comes with a long, slow swipe of his tongue against your hyper sensitive clit and it feels good to finally not worry about who can hear you.

you dig your head back into the pillow, hair already a mess after a perfectly restful night’s sleep. you can feel his eyes burning into you, even if you can’t see them, even if your focus is really anywhere but the agonizing feather-like touches between your legs.

it’s a shame, you think, but only for a moment, that his mouth is so busy that you can’t hear him call you pretty names or poke fun at you for whining so much. only for a moment.

if there’s one thing that osamu cannot be called it’s all-or-nothing. osamu doesn’t do all-or-nothing; he does slowly, consistently, comfortably, and then all. this is no exception. he runs his tongue between your puffy lips, smears your juices all over your sensitive pussy with the tip, and then he eats you- not like a man-starved, but like a man who he gets to indulge in his favorite dessert.

his fingertips are digging into the fat of your hips, palms pressing to keep you in place, to keep you from squirming, and it’s working. he lets you scratch your nails into his hair, down the back of his neck, resting on the tops of his shoulders. you don’t guide him, don’t buck your hips impatiently, you don’t need to. if he isn’t lapping exactly where you want him to, you know he will be soon, you know it’s deliberate, you know that he knows what’s best for you even if you have to wait for it.

you’re not sure you know how many times you come on his tongue, how many are attributed to just his tongue and how many are attributed to the noises that he’s making, the grunts that are coming from his throat, the mumbled praises that he’s whispering against your soaked folds, the squeaking of the mattress from the soft grinding that he’s doing against the blankets.

without a watch, you’d have claimed you were there for hours, all morning, just like he said. you’re not sure if he would’ve stopped either, if you hadn’t sat up on your forearm, somehow more out of breath than he was, and tugged on his hair. “samu, baby,” you whine.

you can’t help it, the even-more-breathless-breathlessness that hits you when he looks into your eyes, bottom of his face soaked with you, licks his lips, wipes the rest of it with his palm, and crawls slowly up to meet you. he kisses you hard, as hard as you’ll let him, and then he kisses you again, and then he kisses your cheek, and then your jaw, then your neck, mumbles against your skin, “what do you want now, bunny?” he’ll give you anything. “i’ll give you anything.” you know that he will.

the opportunities are endless. the world is your oyster. anything that you ask for, he will give you, and it will be wrapped with neat paper and a pretty bow with a handwritten note several miles long. you swallow, eyes searching his face for nothing in particular, just because he’s pretty and because he’s yours.

“i don’t think i have anything to ask for, because you’re already mine,” you whisper.

his face lights up, skin hot and flushed on the highs of his cheeks and traveling down his neck and chest. for a second it looks like he short-circuits, like you’ve broken him just by telling him the truth, and then, in a second, the world catches back up to him.

he shakes his head slowly and then you’re on top of him, sat with both legs on either sides of his, strong hands steadying you before you can even clock that you need to be steadied. “you’re really asking for it, huh?” he asks, and now you’re feeling warm.

“i- what are you talking about, samu,” you say, eyebrows furrowed. you can feel his hips- and yourself- lift off the bed as the fabric between the backs of your thighs and the tops of his is replaced with soft skin. you yelp softly as you’re lowered back down, hands on your inner thighs pushing you back just enough for his cock to rest between them.

you’re soaking wet, making a mess between your lips and on the insides of your legs and now all over his hard cock, slowly pushing through your pressed together thighs. he brings his hips off the bed, steady thrusts rocking the mattress ever so slightly, both his hands squeezing the outsides of your thighs. he clicks his tongue, “saying shit like that, angel, you know i’m not going to be able to help myself.”

“samu,” you repeat, breathless. “what ar-.”

he cuts you off, sliding his thumb from the tip of his cock to the base, his leaking head slipping between your messy lips until it’s teasing your hole. “sound so in love with me, baby, need to fucking feel you around me so fucking bad right now,” he breathes, sharp inhale punctuating his sentence as he pulls you by your hips until you’re fully seated on his cock.

you don’t know if the warmth is coming from the blush or touch of his skin or the desire that’s burning in your core, but it’s there, and before you can even fully register what he’s saying, he’s honest-to-god whimpering, spouting more lovey bullshit, “god, it’s like falling in love with you made you fit even more perfectly around me.” he lifts you slightly, fingers digging into your hips as he lets you slowly fall back down onto his cock.

he tilts his head into the pillow, but immediately picks it back up, locking eyes with you before letting his gaze fall down your body, like he can’t believe you really exist, like he can’t believe he let himself relax into a position where he couldn’t see you at all times, like he “can’t believe you’re fucking real,” he grunts, “and that you’re all fucking mine.”

“osamu, if you don’t knock it off,” you say. you’re only half-joking. you’re not sure that you could take him talking to you like this for much longer. you feel so full, every part of you feels so full. you slide your hands down his chest, palm against his rapidly beating heart acting as leverage as you start moving in time with him.

you close your eyes, partially to focus on the parts of you that are on fire right now, and partially so that you don’t have to keep looking at how much osamu is looking at you. he can’t keep his hands off of you, can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“can’t help it, pretty, not when i get to savor it like this,” he says, brings his chest up and wraps his arms around your back, holding you securely to him. he kisses the side of your face, whispers in your ear, “not when i finally get to fuck you in my bed and tell you that i love you and see you- all of you.”

“are you trying to make me cry or something?” you ask, placing both of your hands on either side of his face, forcing his attention on just your eyes and the hints of shyness strewn all over your face.

a slight smirk is followed by raised eyebrows and a tiny kiss to the temple. osamu flips you over, lying you gently on your back while you’re still fully encompassing him. “that can be arranged, puppy,” he says, kissing down your neck, nipping at your shoulders and chest. he slams his hips into you and you can’t help the pleasured, high-pitched moan that comes as a result. in fact, you can’t help the ones that come one after another after another as he keeps snapping his hips, insides of your thighs growing raw from the impact.

you’re babbling at this point, a symphony of half-finished words and tiny whimpers, and when a single tear breaks free of your blurred waterline, osamu can’t hold back. “fuck, holy fuck, babygirl, you sound so good, don’t stop, princess, keep making those cute fucking noises, fuck, sound so good.”

you shake your head no and hope that he understands what it means, that you won’t stop as long as he doesn’t. you’ll cry and scream and make cute little noises for him forever if he never pulls out of you.

you’ve always known that fucking in bathrooms has been disadvantageous, you just couldn’t pinpoint it, not when it always felt so good anyway. you never thought the space bothered you or the hard, cold various materials of sinks or the fact that people were often only a door away; you never thought any of that mattered until now, now when you can cry for him and feel the softness of the blankets beneath you and the plushness of the pillow behind your head.

“baby,” you cry, “i’m- you’re gonna- fuck, i love you so much. i’m-.” you throw your head back, you can’t finish your half-constructed sentence before osamu is fucking you faster, harder, wrapping an arm around your lower back and lifting you up the slightest bit to angle you perfectly. your hand moves on instinct, reaches down between your legs and circles your throbbing clit for only a second before you’re squirting all over him, a release of pressure drenching him as you gasp for air, drawing in enough breath to cry out his name.

you place your hand on his lower abs, eyes closing softly to center yourself. you could’ve passed out right here, slept for a million years, and you’re not sure you would’ve completely recovered. your body is shaking, throat is sore, and when you open your eyes, osamu is looking at you with such adoration and awe that you’re certain you’ve missed something.

“the first time we’re not in a fucking bathroom and you fucking make me squirt,” you mumble, shaking your head, “what are we going to do with you?” you ask, removing your hand from his stomach, silently letting him know you’ve recovered enough for him to keep going.

“i don’t care,” he says, kissing your jaw, “i don’t care what you do with me for the rest of my life, that was the most amazing thing i’ve ever seen.”

“you made a mess,” you tease.

“i made a mess?” he asks.

you nod.

he breathes a laugh before accepting responsibility, “i made a mess,” he confirms.

“so you’ve gotta do one thing for me,” you say, circling your hips, matching his lazy thrusts as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“anything,” he says. and you know that he means it.

you use your loose grip around his neck to coax him closer to you, your lips now pressed against his ear. “need you to make a mess inside of me, samu, please,” you say, low enough to send shivers down his spine from the tone alone. his hips stutter. he wants to regain composure, to not give in to blowing his load deep inside of you just from you saying his name and asking him nicely, he really wants to savor it and last a little bit longer.

but you’re so wet. you’re drenched, but you’re still so tight and sucking him in so nicely, perfectly sculpted for him, gummy walls still clenching and fluttering from your orgasm, and you kiss the skin right below his ear and you say, “please, i’ve been waiting for it ever since i fucking met you, please, don’t make me wait any longer.”

and he can’t.

he wouldn’t.

he doesn’t.

he snaps his hips forwards, pressing himself flush against the insides of your thighs and releases deep inside of you. you can feel his cock pulse with each stream, feel yourself getting fuller and fuller and fuller with each throb and accompanying grunt. you can’t get enough. you don’t want it to ever stop, but it does. he keeps himself deep inside of you for a moment, not wanting to lose the feeling just as much as you don’t.

when he starts to get soft, he pulls out, come dripping out of your hole and onto the blankets below just adding to the mess the two of you have created in the span of a few hours. he doesn’t exactly know where to go, what to do. the two of you could’ve passed out just like this, intertwined together and had the most incredible sleep of your entire life, if it weren’t for the huge mess beneath you.

“what now?” you mumble, not moving.

you feel osamu flop next to you. you’re not sure if he’s avoided the mess or if he’s embraced it. part of you wants to stand up and apologize and start throwing his bedspread in the washer, but that part of you isn’t winning, not today. if that part of osamu exists, it’s not winning either. he wraps his arms around your waist, rests his head on your chest, pulls you into him.

“are we just going to lay in this?” you say, laughing. it sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth, but you’re sure it wouldn’t take much convincing for you to not have to move from this very spot. osamu doesn’t answer you, but you feel him unwrap from your body and then get off the bed. you go to sit up, but you don’t make it that far, opening your eyes as osamu pulls the blankets out from under you and throws them in a heap in the corner of his tidy room. he opens the closet door and comes back with a spare, small, but clean blanket.

he reassumes his position on the now-much-more-acceptable bed, throwing the blanket overtop of you and him and cuddling into your side. “is that better?” he asks, but he doesn’t really expect a response. your small smile and content hum is all he needs.

after only a few moments, recuperated by a clean blanket and strong arms, your body is ready to move onto the next thing, ready to get up and start making breakfast or start kissing him again or start getting ready for work despite how long you have until your shift. your skin is antsy, pulse is quickening. there are a trillion things in your head that you want to do with osamu, plenty of dull activities that seem like they’ll be much better with him by your side. you want to see them. you want to do them.

osamu shifts and pulls you into his chest, kisses the top of your head. “love you, angel,” he murmurs into your hair. “love you so much,” he says again. you feel calmer now, the most at ease you’ve ever been, because you know that there’ll be time for all of that, plenty of time, hours and hours of time to do all of the things that you want to do with osamu, more time than you know what to do with, you just know it.

for now, all you have to do is lay here, in bed, surrounded by warmth in more ways that you thought were possible, maybe let sleep take you again or stay awake in these passing moments, it doesn’t really matter. your exhale is steady, matches with his. you close your eyes and you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now.

you look happy there.

you look really happy there.

taglist: @miyaluv127 @useless-bicth @mushasstuff @unstaaableaf @mimivinx @tsukiran @kurapika-1999 @hehatesmati @karmakarter @hunny-hotline @bella009888 @um-no-ok @footjib @mon-cherries @privthemis @agashki @renster05 @greeniegreengreen @tokyo-banana @fandomtrash5092 @coyloves @heathsuii @pasta-water @ran-rangasma @ayz-it-they @ellesalzar @dabibreeder @s4m1 @perry-gallifrey @barely-coherent @katsunarii @thisbicc @jaynawayna @levis-wheelchair @sugar-crumbs @miyaslvt @sheeshizzy @i0nlyr343mut @ajbutasimp @snazzyturtles @idontevenknowlolls @nicerthanu @angelgvtzzz @lovely-part-time-whore @lilac-ski3s @dovenu @heirxx @kur0obaby @tetsuswhore @alienvarmint @georgettesand @misfit-megumi @bijuu-naginata @captain-alien-america @ti-mame @buckys-hoeee @whos-curiosity-killed-the-cat @stargazing-girl @whoisgami @zany17 @privthemis @pennylanewrites @buckys-hoeee @avfox24 @reinertiddiejuice @poke-pia @its-simply-me19 @nahcho @sugamonster22 @destinyg237 @msbyomimi

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

tori talks more: i do not know if i'll be around to write more to be honest with you. like i probably will at some point, but who knows. maybe when the new movie comes out. maybe ill do a jjk pivot bc i just finished it. feel free to scream in my inbox abt it or this or whatever. ily all and im so glad i could finally finish this. <3 :)

#osamu x reader #osamu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #osamu x reader smut #hq x reader smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haiykuu x reader smut #miya osamu x reader smut #osamu x reader fluff #osamu fluff #osamu fic #hq fic #toriwritesshit #abd update!

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supernaturalscribe67 · 27 days

Text

Unwarranted

Words: 4,983

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Team Free Will x Male!ExAngel!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Mention of past sexual harassment, sexual harassment, angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: Humans are interesting and complex creatures, and ever since the reader lost his grace, he had to learn to become one. Luckily, he had his friends by his side to help him through his trials and tribulations. What happens when he's face-to-face with a human experience he never anticipated, and how will Team Free Will help him resolve his issue?

Request:

Hi! I hope you're having a good day/night. This request is very specific. I would write it myself, but im awful at it. I hope you don't mind, lol.

May you do (ex?)Angel!Male!reader x TFW (platonic obv). You can make it where Reader joined after the angels fell and was castiels past battle partner and was good friends with him, or something else if you'd like.

Reader lost his grace after a rogue angel took it from him. He has no idea how to be human and struggles a lot, even with the help of Dean, Sam, and Castiel. Anyways, to get to the point- Reader picked a pretty attractive vessel, so both men and women hit on him a lot when the group goes to diners or bars and most of the time Reader wanders off to explore since hes never really gone to earth before so the boys never notice, and he doesn't know how to react or what to do when they start to get touchy, only that he doesn't feel comfortable with it at all, but he thinks if he tells them to stop its a form of being rude, so he never says so. the person usually stops when they realize Reader isn't having the type of reaction they were looking for.

When Reader mentioned this to the boys randomly, they realized that Reader didn't know that it was bad that they were touching him and explained what it was, what to say, and do when that happens and comforts him when he finally cries as a human.

Anonymous

A/N: I am so sorry for going off the grid for a while! Honestly, keeping track of dates and time frames has not been my strong point, especially with everything going on with work. Luckily I'm almost done with another request as well and will have that up by this weekend! I hope this gives the request justice. As always, feedback is very much appreciated!

~ Much Love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Humans are interesting and complex creatures, each with their own thoughts, wants, needs, and interests. When (Y/N) first joined Castiel on Earth two years prior, he was amazed by the array of personalities and emotions. No two people are alike, but, due to the vast differences, many of them can be categorized under three distinct titles; good, neutral, and evil.

The good people are the ones who are selfless. They take the first step when it comes to helping others. They aren’t perfect but they are as close as anyone can be. Only a small amount of people fit into the category of ‘good’, most of which find themselves canonized into sainthood years after death. Many strive to be classified under such a prestige title, but few make the cut. However, just because someone isn’t worthy of the title, doesn’t make them a bad person automatically.

Neutral individuals are what most would describe as your ‘average Joe’. It is the category in which most people lie. They are neither good nor bad. The choices they make in life come with a mix of positive and negative intentions. An example of a neutral person could be someone’s English teacher, who partakes in volunteer work after hours, or your boss, who had just been caught cheating on his wife with Jim from the mailroom. Just because people do bad things, doesn’t make them inherently evil.

True evil is much darker. An individual who would put a demon to shame with their actions, thoughts, and desires. One with little regard for the well-being of others. Ones that hurt others purely for self-gratification. To gain an advantage. Those are the ones that end up in prison or a seat in Congress. They’re usually manipulative, have a silver tongue placed in their mouth at birth, and can easily coerce those who are weak and gullible.

(Y/N) had met his fair share of individuals from all three categories throughout his time on Earth, supernatural entities excluded. At first, with his angelic powers, he was able to make an assumption of others based solely on their thoughts. Ever since the fall, however, his judgments on people had become rather askew. He was able to get the full experience of being human - not able to truly tell what one was thinking during various interactions - and he would be lying if he said he enjoyed it. Rather, the lack of understanding when it came to others caused him to develop a sense of paranoia. The last thing he wanted was for others to assume the worst of him. Even as an angel, he would treat the worst of the worst with as much kindness as he could muster.

Little did he know that the paranoia would lead to his downfall and a deep realization of how evil some people could be.

The first couple of weeks after his grace was stolen, (Y/N) was lost. He knew next to nothing about maintaining the necessary needs to keep his body alive. It was all tedious in his eyes. Why did humans need to eat, drink, and go to the bathroom so much throughout the day? Who possibly had the time to do so? Do they have to thread their needs into their schedules for work and school? On top of that, why did humans need to pay for food and water? Were they not necessities? Why would someone need to pay to survive? (Y/N) held a plethora of questions in his mind that still go unanswered.

Thankfully, Castiel, Sam, and Dean were all there for him, guiding him through the processes necessary to provide for his new form. It took a while for him to get the hang of it - the most overwhelming thing was when he was introduced to a large variety of foods. All the new flavors and textures send his tongue into sensory overdrive. Dean was more than happy to realize, though, that the two of them were rather fond of the same flavor of pie.

With the loss of his grace came the depletion of his strength. He was no longer invincible to man-made weaponry. Because of this, and since Sam and Dean’s jobs were so physically demanding, they spent weeks in training. Blades, firearms, and hand-to-hand all had their challenges, but (Y/N) was a quick learner, something the brothers respected him highly for. Within a month and a half, he was on the road with them, hopping from case to case.

Saving people, hunting things, the family business.

And true it was. The time he had spent with Castiel and the Winchesters was extensive, and there was never a dull moment. Away from the darkness and the monsters that crept in the night, Sam and Dean were playful jokesters. Childish, yet mature when they needed to be. It was noticeable that Castiel had also developed certain aspects of their personalities, as he was more lighthearted than when (Y/N) first met him. As time passed, (Y/N), too, started to display those characteristics. He felt like a member of the team. A real Winchester. For the first time since the fall, he felt at home.

*~*

(Y/N) had been to a handful of bars since he turned human, before becoming an honorary member of the Winchester family, and there was one fact he could confidently state; he didn’t like them.

Sure, he met some rather nice people while at said bars, mainly the middle-aged female bartenders who gave off a motherly aura, but with every kind individual he saw, he encountered twice as many assholes. Those were the ones that drunkenly called him slurs even though they knew nothing about him, the ones that shoved him out of the way when they wanted to get to the bar, or the ones that continuously pushed their limits on his personal boundaries.

Unfortunately, he had experienced the latter more than he would have liked.

He couldn’t quite describe how he felt when he had those interactions. When a bar patron would press themselves against his back or chest, touch his ass or thighs, or even leave kisses on his neck, shoulders, cheeks, and lips. It was decided, though, that he was extremely uncomfortable. Why would he possibly feel that way? He assumed that touches and kisses were how humans expressed affection towards one another. So, why didn’t he like it? He chalked it up to not being used to that form of affection or affection in general. Surely, he was bound to get comfortable with it eventually.

After-hunt celebrations were common with the Winchesters. Either the day of or the night after, they would all gather at the nearest watering hole, grab a drink or two, and then head back to the motel. Sometimes, Sam or Dean would abandon the group to retreat with a romantic partner, but (Y/N) would always stick with Castiel and the remaining brother. He never had any interest in human relations. It was a new, complex situation outside of learning to be human. He was just getting used to that concept, and he had no desire to learn about other aspects of humanity yet.

Classy Cline’s sat on the edge of a small town in Washington state. While its name suggested an upscale establishment, the place was, in all actuality, a shit hole. The booths and barstools were ripped at every corner of the seam, the tables were chipped and scuffed, and it appeared as if the employees hadn’t swept or mopped the floor in well over a decade. They had all been to nasty bars in the past, but Classy Cline’s took the cake.

“I don’t even wanna drink from this glass,” Sam mumbled as he eyed the pint glass Dean had placed in front of him.

While aesthetics weren’t on Cline’s side, the beer looked more than appetizing. An amber/gold liquid, topped with a beautiful, white head. Any beer enthusiast would foam at the mouth at the sight. The glasses, contrary to the floors, looked spotless. If they had put as much effort into cleaning the building as they did disinfecting the glassware, lines would be out the door, and Cline would be a millionaire.

“Oh, don’t be a baby, Sammy,” Dean rolled his eyes and gave a beer to (Y/N) and Castiel. “It may not live up to its name, but the beer sure looks good.”

“Thank you, Dean,” (Y/N) and Castiel spoke in unison.

“I’ll never get used to that,” Dean shook his head and sat down next to his brother. “It’s as if you two are constantly in sync.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows as he cupped the glass with one hand, condensation coating his palm. “We’re an American boy band from the 90’s?” He cocked his head to the side.

Dean froze, the glass inches from his lips as he shot him a questioning glance. “While I’m proud of you for remembering what I taught you about music, that’s not what I meant. ‘In sync’. Two separate words.”

“Oh…”

“(Y/N) and I have worked together for well over a century. We’re bound to have some similarities.” Castiel explained.

Dean shrugged. “I guess you’re right,” he took a sip of his beer.

(Y/N) noted Sam’s hesitancy to drink, so he took a moment to examine the liquid himself. It looked clean, safe, and better than many other beers he had drank before. He took a swig and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was still very cold. A layer of foam coated his upper lip. Sam picked up his glass and examined the bottom.

“Will you stop that?” Dean scolded. “The beer is fine, Sam, you’re not going to die. You look like an idiot.”

“Well, excuse me for being skeptical, Dean! Have you seen the state of this place? I believe I have a right to be concerned.” Sam hissed.

“The beer is very pleasant, Sam,” (Y/N) smiled as he took another long swig, downing half the pint.

Sam slowly nodded. “I can tell,” he mumbled and glanced down at his glass. He hesitated for a moment before he took a careful sip, letting the liquid rest against his tastebuds before he swallowed. He hummed and raised his brows. “Wow, that’s pretty good.”

“See? Your big brother knows a thing or two about beer,” Dean smiled.

A bartender waltzed into view - an overworked twenty-something with her dirty blonde hair tossed back into a bun that she should have fixed hours ago. She sat a rocks glass in front of (Y/N), the ice emanating a clink inside as it shifted. He stared and intensely studied the dark liquid.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I didn’t order this,” he looked up at her.

The bartender sighed and gestured towards the bar. “The man over there sent it,” she grumbled, her voice unenthusiastic and laced with exhaustion. She didn’t give him any time to further investigate before she swiveled through the booths and tables, vanishing into the crowd of regulars.

The group looked at the drink with curiosity before their attention shifted to the bar. Only one of the patrons had their gaze glued to the hunters. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with short, salt-and-pepper hair decorating the top of his head and a beard to match. Age lines crinkled the corners of his mouth and eyes. A leather jacket covered his broad shoulders and the jeans he wore left little to the imagination. When (Y/N)’s eyes connected with the stranger’s, the man smirked and winked. (Y/N) continued to stare at him, lips slightly parted, until he felt an elbow in his side. His gaze shot over to the eldest Winchester.

“Give him a smile and a wave. That shows him you appreciate it.” Dean said through a smile.

“Oh,” (Y/N) raised his brows and looked back at the man, whose eyes were still on him. He gave a small smile, followed by a timid wave.

The stranger grinned before he turned his head away. (Y/N) looked down and studied the glass once more. The liquid was a slightly darker shade than the beer, but more transparent. When he picked it up, the liquid sloshed inside. The smell was strong but slightly sweet. Whiskey. A sip of it caused him to cringe. It was Fireball. Not the best choice to send a stranger across the bar, but to each their own.

Dean leaned in close to him, his cheeky grin still prominent. “You should go over and talk to him.”

“Why?”

“He just gave you a drink. He wants to talk to you.”

(Y/N) gave Dean a confused stare. “How does that-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dean waved him off. “He’s flirting with you by sending over the drink! You should go flirt back.”

(Y/N) looked from the drink to Dean, from Dean to the stranger. He was a very attractive man, but (Y/N) was far from interested in flirtation. However, if Dean thought he should, what could go wrong? He trusted Dean’s advice.

Hesitantly, (Y/N) stood, the glass of Fireball in hand, and made his way over to the bar where the gentleman sat. He took the empty barstool next to him. The man looked at him out of the corner of his eye and smirked.

“Good to see you up close,” he said and turned his body to face (Y/N). “You’re even cuter than I thought. Chris,” he held out his hand.

This is a handshake. This is how strangers greet each other.

(Y/n) grasped Chris’ hand and shook it gently. He noticed how firm his grip was. “My name is (Y/N),” he said.

Chris smirked. “A beautiful name for a beautiful man,” he pulled his hand away and casually placed it on (Y/N)’s knee. “I’ve been coming here for, close to, fifteen years, and I have never seen anyone as good-looking as yourself. You new around here?”

(Y/N)’s eyes shifted to Chris’ hand before they returned to his face. “My friends and I are on a trip.” He replied. It’s a classic lie most hunters use and one that was taught to him early on in his training.

“Ah, and how long will you be staying?”

“I believe this is the last night we’re here.”

“You’re not sure?”

“My friend, Dean, drives us. He knows more about our itinerary than I do.”

“A ‘go with the flow’ kind of man. I like it.”

As they continued to talk, Chris’ hand ventured further up (Y/N)’s thigh, squeezing the flesh on his leg from time to time. Simple conversation switched to flirting rather quickly, the majority of it one-sided. What started as cheesy ‘first date’ type questions turned risque in the blink of an eye. At first, they were easy questions that (Y/N) could answer without an issue, but once they started to get dirty, his mind turned blank. Half the vocabulary Chris used was new to him. While he knew all of them revolved around sex, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the definition, regardless of the context clues provided.

He could feel the familiar pit in his stomach as the questions droned on. The sensation that he couldn’t quite give a title to yet. At least, not an accurate one. ‘Uncomfortable’ seemed as if it fit too loosely for the circumstance. It felt as if there were a swarm of bees buzzing around in his stomach, moving from his gut to his chest periodically.

Chris leaned in close to (Y/N)’s ear, his warm, whiskey-filled breath caressing his cheek. (Y/N)’s eyes were cast down. He had lost the ability to maintain constant eye contact when the mood shifted, and the bees began their attack.

“What do you say we get out of here?” Chris asked. “I could show you a thing or two.”

When Chris’s hand landed on (Y/N)’s crotch, every muscle in his body was on fire as they clenched tightly. (Y/N)’s eyes went wide and his body froze. The bees didn’t just fly, they infiltrated his entire nervous system. He felt an overwhelming need to retreat like one would in a battle they knew they couldn’t win. But he wasn’t in a battle. It was a simple conversation. Why did he feel like that?

Chris pressed small kisses on the back of (Y/N)’s ear. (Y/N) inhaled and turned his head slightly, the need to get away from Chris strong. Chris immediately stopped and opened his eyes. He paused for a moment before he pulled away and sighed.

“I see you’re not as interested as I thought you were,” he gave a tight smile, pulled out his wallet, and slammed a twenty on the bar. “Thanks for nothing.” He grumbled before he got up and stormed away.

With his presence gone, (Y/N) felt a sense of peace and ease wash over him. The beating of his heart inside his chest began to lessen and return to a normal pace. With a glance down at his hand, he noticed the way his fingertips trembled. That hadn’t been the first time someone else had gotten so bold with touching him, and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last. When was that feeling going to go away?

After a minute or so passed, he was able to compose himself enough to stand from the barstool and wander back to the table where Sam, Dean, and Castiel sat. He joined them without a word, not wanting to interrupt their conversation, and grabbed his lukewarm beer. There was no chance he was going to drink anymore that night. Not with his stomach as uneasy as it was.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam asked.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) spoke.

“You sure?” Dean chimed in. “Guy looked like he had a stick up his ass when he left.

(Y/N) shrugged. “I believe he just wanted to leave.” He tried to keep his voice as straight as possible. He could tell his nerves hadn’t fully recovered.

Dean shook his head. “Well, his loss.”

*~*

One thing (Y/N) adored about being human was the way showers made him feel after a hunt. He never quite realized how tense his muscles could get until the hot water caressed his limbs. It was as if all the adrenaline was washed from his body. It made him feel refreshed. Renewed.

That night, he got the last shower. The water wasn’t as hot as other showers he had taken, but he would accept warm any day. By the time he left the bathroom, clad in a pair of night pants and a loose t-shirt courtesy of the youngest Winchester, Sam, Dean, and Castiel were dressed to leave. Another post-hunt celebration. Dean glanced at (Y/N).

“You’re not coming?” He asked.

(Y/N) shook his head and walked over to his bed. “Not tonight, no.”

“Why not? You never miss out on a bar.”

(Y/N) settled into the bed, and sat up with his legs crossed. “I notice that humans get very physical when they are at bars. I’m not quite used to it yet, so I think I’m going to wait until I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, (Y/N)?” Castiel asked.

“The touching.”

The three of them shared a concerned look before Sam waved his hand dramatically, eyes closed tightly.

“Wait,” he reached a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean ‘get used to’?”

“Well, I’m not accustomed to the way humans express attraction. I surely wasn’t aware that there was as much physical contact involved. So, I figured it was something I would be more comfortable with as time went on. I mean, I never knew strangers were so interested in touching each other’s genitalia.”

They all furrowed their brows, confusion etched perfectly on their faces, and slowly made their way over to the bed. Sam sat at the edge next to (Y/N), Dean stood next to him, and Castiel sat on the opposite side of the bed from Sam.

“(Y/N),” Sam started, his voice soft and steady, the same voice he used when talking to the families of victims. “Have you…given these people permission to touch you?”

(Y/N) cocked his head to the side, slightly taken aback by the question, as it was something he had never even considered before. Had he permitted them to touch him? He could not recall. Then again, he didn’t remember them asking. He took a moment to think back on the times he had been in bars since he became human.

“No,” he answered. “The first couple of times it happened, I pulled away from the touch, as it made me rather uncomfortable, but they would just get upset. One man told me it was wrong to ‘lead him on’ and then deny his touch. After that, I let people touch me. I would like a break from it for tonight.”

“(Y/N), other humans need permission to touch you,” Castiel said.

“But they get upset-”

“To Hell with them being upset,” Dean interjected. “No one has a right to touch you, especially if you don’t want them to.”

“Is that why that one guy left the last bar we went to left? You wouldn’t let him touch you?” Sam asked.

(Y/N) could feel his cheeks and neck heat up. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to hide his face. Was it because of the answer to the question? Was it because of the question itself? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the origin of the sense of dread, but he knew it wasn’t going to vanish anytime soon.

He shook his head, eyes cast down to his hands. “I let him touch me. I assume it was because I didn’t respond when he asked me to leave with him.”

Dean’s jaw clenched as he ran a hand down his face. “Son of a bitch,” he growled and began to lightly pace between the motel beds.

Sam slowly shook his head. “(Y/N), those people are horrible. You should never touch someone without consent, and you should never let anyone touch you if you are uncomfortable with it. Do you understand?” His eyes were laced with sympathy.

(Y/N) went to say something, but he felt a lump in his throat prevent him from doing so. Instead, he just gave a short, brief nod.

“I can only imagine how tough it was to become human. To lose all that power. You may not have the power to heal us anymore or read others’ minds, but you are still your own person, (Y/N). You have the power to tell people to keep their hands off of you. You have the power to let yourself have a good time at these places. It doesn’t matter what other people think about your choices. In the end, all that matters is you, okay?”

“Okay,” he replied, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper.

(Y/N) sniffled, and he felt as if his head was pulsing. Tears sprung to the corner of his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks. For the first time since he lost his grace, he cried. It wasn’t loud and dramatic, but, rather, soft.

It explained so much. How he hated the way bar patrons touched him, the sinking feeling when they got too close, the panic that coursed through his veins. That was no flaw on his part, but a flaw on the strangers. What they did was wrong, not him.

And that validation broke him.

(Y/N) immediately knew he hated crying. His chest ached as the silent sobs racked his body. In a way, it was relieving, though. It felt as if all of the pent-up discomfort was being released. As if he was reborn. Still, it hurt worse than it did comfort him.

Castiel was the first to respond as he placed a gentle hand against (Y/N)’s back, Sam, being the closest, engulfed him in a near bone-shattering embrace, and Dean halted his paces to kneel beside the bed, one of his hands landing on the small of his back. (Y/N) closed his eyes tight and leaned his head against Sam’s chest. Their touch made him feel safe. This was a good touch. This was how touch should make him feel. He shouldn’t be forced to feel uncomfortable to please others, because, in reality, some people aren’t going to like him, even if the reasons are far from valid. It was a harsh reality, but as long as he had his family by his side, he didn’t mind if the whole world hated him.

After a few quiet minutes, filled with silent cries, the tears stopped. (Y/N)’s eyes were bright red and puffy, and he occasionally sniffled.

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice soothing.

(Y/N) lifted his head from Sam’s chest and glanced over at him. Sam pulled back a bit so the embrace wasn’t nearly as intense.

“If you’re ever in a situation like that, where some douchebag won’t keep his hands off of you, all you have to do is say the word and we’ll kick his ass for you.”

“What if it’s a woman?” He asked quietly.

Dean opened his mouth to give a quick answer but shut it as he thought about it. “Then we will have Cas bring Jody or Charlie in to kick her ass. The point is; fuck everyone else.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows. “Does that not mean to have intercourse with them?”

Dean sighed. “Sam, Cas, a little help?”

“What Dean is trying to say,” Castiel chimed in. “Is that you should not prioritize other peoples’ desires over your comfort. You are more important than a stranger. They are not important, you are, and what other people think doesn’t matter. If someone does not listen to you when you deny them, we will do everything in our power to protect you. We still care about you, and want what’s best for you.”

Dean pressed his lips together and nodded. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. That’s exactly what I meant.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back his smirk. “Look, we know how tough it is to be human. Dean and I have been dealing with this our whole lives. We know that there are setbacks that come with the package, but there are also a ton of fun experiences. We don’t want some jackass to ruin it for you. Cas said it better than Dean or I could. We care about you and want to do everything we can to look out for you. You deserve it.”

The tears reappeared, but they weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of joy. Of relief. As if his heart would burst with all the love and care his friends will it with. (Y/N) took a moment to wrap his arms around each of them in an individual hug to show his appreciation.

“Thank you. I am very grateful to have friends like you.” He smiled warmly.

Dean smiled before he cleared his throat and waved him off. “Alright, enough of the chick-flick crap,” he said as he stood from his spot on the floor, a groan escaping his throat that he tried not to make too noticeable. “What do you say we skip the bar tonight, order some takeout, and watch a movie? I hear Roadhouse is on at seven.”

(Y/N) cocked his head to the side. “What’s Roadhouse?”

Dean froze, wide-eyed. His jaw dropped in shock. “‘What’s Roadhouse’?” He repeated in disbelief. “Action movie? Patrick Swayze? Sam Elliott? Kelly Lumch? Julie Michaels? Keith David!?” With each name, his voice got louder.

“Are those actors?”

“I-” Dean threw his hands up as he turned his back on him and began to pace around the room once more.

(Y/N) flashed a worried look at Castiel, then Sam. Sam shook his head and chuckled.

“Dean’s just being dramatic,” he whispered, which caused (Y/N) to let out a sigh of relief.

“I am not being dramatic!” Dean retorted before he stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “This is all my fault. I was so focused on teaching him about good music that movies never crossed my mind. Have you at least seen Indiana Jones?”

“Indiana…as in the state?”

“If it makes you feel any better, (Y/N), I, too, have yet to see Roadhouse or Indiana Jones,” Castiel said.

Dean deadpanned. “I have some work to do. Sam, go get us some food. I need to make a list of movies for them to watch.”

Sam snorted as he stood from his spot on the bed. “Yeah, yeah. Just text me what you guys want.” He mumbled and retrieved his jacket from the back of one of the chairs.

As Sam left to get them food, Dean began to ramble on about movies he determined (Y/N) and Castiel had to watch, most of which were either action or old westerns. He talked with such passion regarding the films that (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. Dean was right, the opinions of others didn’t matter, especially those whose only goal was to satisfy their selfish desires, disregarding others’ wellbeing. They were foolish, scum, true lions in sheep’s clothing. Those hidden evil beings could make themselves look innocent. (Y/N) didn’t need to please them. Didn’t need to make them happy. He only wanted to make his family happy, just as they did him. For how much they’ve helped him on his treacherous journey into manhood, they deserve it, for they have taught him the most valuable lesson of all;

His worth was priceless.

…

“Hey, are you even listening?”

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maaarshieee · 2 years

Note

i see, u needed dottore ideas so IM GONNA DROP ONE EVERY WEEK 🎉

angst to fluff dottore when he decided to lash out on y/n after accidentally ruining his papers and he told y/n to leave him alone!! y/n proceeds to ignore him for weeks and he's starting to feel guilty

dottore meeting y/n through another mad scientist in sumeru. the scientist experimented on y/n and dottore grew fond of y/n. something happened that almost killed y/n so he got mad AND TOOK HER AWAY! THE SCIENTIST WAS FOUND DEAD AFTER A FEW DAYS

i like angst because i like hurting myself... anw im gonna be weekly anon.... HMMM

- weekly anon

⎯⎯ ୨ 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ୧ ⎯⎯

➢ Iʟ Dᴏᴛᴛᴏʀᴇ x Gɴ!Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

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a/n - welcome to my hell, weekly anon. and omg I WOULD APPRECIATE THAT FRRR YOU HAVE ALL MY LOVE /P. also i would like to add that i only do long-term relationships with dottore (since childhood or akademiya) bc i feel like it would go very yandere or toxic. i just prefer if dottore had a deeper and more meaningful relationship for a long time! i hope you don't mind anon 😭 i can do variety of readers but my fav is when the reader is also sick in the head like he is. anyways THANKS FOR THE REQUEST AGAIN!! titled, "need you", have a nice day/night!!

↬ cw: established long-term relationship with reader, mentions of experiments and torture, canon typical violence, slight obsession (dottore and reader), couple fights, reader crazy like him fr

Dottore never raises his voice at you.

Just a snark remark here and there, would scold you for your chaotic antics in his lab from time to time. But would never raise his voice at you. Well, intentionally, of course. There were times before when he'd yell at you, but they were never too serious, or loud enough to startle you.

Today was different.

He was already in a foul mood when it all happened. His experiments were giving him a headache rather than enjoyment lately, and the workers he assigned simple tasks that anyone could do in a span of a few days all failed. Things were not going as planned, even his research hit a dead end.

And what did you do to even worsen his mood?

Spilled coffee on his piles of papers. It was an accident, of course. You were tripped by a discarded pen on the floor and stumbled to his desk, hand letting go of the cup as you caught yourself before you hit the ground. He can look past your mistakes since it was you, of all people. But his day has been one of the worse ones yet and his sense of rationality was clouded by his frustrations, letting his anger burst out to you.

"Ah, shit—" You hiss at the painful burns of your hot coffee that landed on your hand but forced yourself to ignore it and instead tried to grab the ruined files, to attempt fixing, or at least dry it but before you could do so, Dottore slammed his hand on the desk.

Startled, you froze like deer a caught in headlights, eyes wide in shock. The impact was so loud in the quiet lab that it rang throughout the spacious area and all the segments present in the room had halted from whatever they were doing, all eyes on the both of them.

"You moron," He spat with venom, a scowl on his lips, and beneath his mask, you could tell he glaring at you with those ruby eyes of his. The hairs of your skin stood as your heart began to palpitate, unsure of what to do under his furious gaze. "Do you know how long it took me to finish all these?"

It was the first time in years you'd seen him so mad at you, your hand began to shake, so you folded your arms behind you, trying to mask your already obvious distress toward him. Cold sweat began to form at your neck whilst you tried to open your mouth to speak, "I- well-"

"Speak up when I'm talking to you."

Technically, your position in the Fatui is much lower than Dottore's. You were his personal assistant, the person who takes upon tasks with much more difficult since you're much more competent than most soldiers. So, it meant you were under his command. But that didn't mean he treated you like a mere soldier.

Well, at least not until now.

You went frigid at his demand, head hung low and eyes on your toes, hands clenched to fists. You tried your hardest to talk louder for him, to follow his orders, but all you could do was let out a meek; "I apologize for ruining y-your papers..."

Dottore heaved out a heavy sigh, pulling back his chair and sitting on it, arms crossed as he stared you down condescendingly. "Your apology is utterly useless." You flinched at the tone of his voice. He pushed the pile you'd ruined to the side and threw them all in a garbage bin, your bottom lip quivering as tears threatened to escape your eyes. "Leave. I don't wish to see you again."

You snapped your head up at that, stunned that he'd even say such a thing to you. "W-wait! Let me at least make new files for you-" You pleaded, taking a step forward but he clicked his tongue, annoyed, whilst he grabbed a new piece of paper and began writing. "Leave me alone. Be of use while you're at it."

Were those files that important? More than you? You swallowed down all the words at the tip of your tongue, gritting your teeth, and just nodded, bowing respectfully, as if you were just one of the Fatui's myriad of soldiers, and walked outside of the laboratory, ignoring the concerned and worried looks of his segments.

And that's how it has been for the past few days. You still fulfilled your duties when Dottore tasked you with a mission, always delivering flawless results. Neither of you mentioned what happened that day. Dottore never apologized, and you never spoke about it, opting to ignore him as much as he's ignored you.

Usually, you would've made a fuss. Nagged him to apologize to you, since he'd hurt your precious feelings and because he loved you. But you hadn't said a word to him unless it was really needed. And you've started calling him sir. It made him frown when you first did.

Now, he was aware of what he did a few hours after he realized you were nowhere to be seen in his lab. Dottore searched for you out of instinct and only stopped himself when he remembered what he had said. He called you a moron. He told you to leave, and so you did.

But would he ever apologize to you upfront? When did he ever do that? Of course not. He expected you to come around at some point, but by day 3, he had grown more and more agitated. Dottore thought that he would alright with you, but he was proven wrong. Not when his patience was beginning to thin and snapping more at others the longer this went on. Hell, torturing his lab rats didn't quell his bothered mind at all.

And you? Well, you missed everything about him. The tasks he gives you were easy enough, but you've been trying to distract yourself from them by holding yourself back. Finishing faster meant reporting to him, and gods know you were hanging on a thread of self-control to not launch yourself into his arms when you see him again.

You planned to ignore him until he'd grovel on his knees, well at least something similar to that because he'd never do such a thing, even to you (but it would be a nice sight if he ever did) but your will to continue and your spite toward him was slowly beginning to crumble.

The two of you were never meant to be separated anyways.

So when he started assigning tasks that required you to be close to him, you knew his stubbornness to not feel an ounce of longing for you was dwindling down. You swear you could feel the apology he wanted to say with his own lips by his mere presence, but he still attempted to turn a blind eye to his emotions, especially when he felt a rush of ecstasy when you moved closer to him.

"Tch, this guy..." You chuckled under your breath as your expression softened when you watched him walk away to fetch something, letting your shoulders sag, tired. "Fine fine, I'll take the lead..." As much as you prefer he would make a much more straightforward move, you'll just take what you can get. It's not like you can take much more of this anyways.

The next day, you approached his desk at your own whim, a stack of files in your arms. Dottore paused his writing, putting down his pen then gestured at the multiple folders you held, confused. "What's all this?"

"I redid the files you threw away a few weeks ago." You carefully placed them in an empty space on his desk, a small smile on your lips as you watch him purse his, taking the document on top of the stack. "I wrote them exactly how you wanted them. Margins, your handwriting, organization, paper, and stuff."

He must say, he was quite impressed with your dedication. What you said was true, you did make it just the way he liked his files. It made the corners of his lips twitch, opening his mouth and almost letting a thank you slip out, but he caught himself. "First sentence in and you've made so many grammatical errors..." You heard him mutter under his breath whilst he continued to scan through the papers.

You gave him an annoyed smile, hands behind your back as you said through gritted teeth; "Are taking them or not?" Maybe you just imagining it, but you could've sworn his shoulders shook lightly at what you said.

"I suppose this'll do." Dottore decided, putting away some of the documents inside his drawers. You proudly nodded at yourself and opened your mouth to say something else when you felt his gloved hand touch your cheek. You paused, staring at him with surprised and questioning eyes but he just caressed your skin, trailing from your cheek and down to your jawline.

"I'm sorry," He wrote.

You couldn't help the huge, triumphant smirk that graced your lips. Though, he didn't seem to mind, allowing you to slip off his glove and press your hand on top of his, leaning against his touch. "Now, what's this supposed to be?" You teased, narrowing your eyes at him humorously. Dottore scowled at your comment, but never pulled his hand away from you. "Forget it." He hissed, nails digging into your skin, but the slight pain only made you grin and cheeks flush.

Easily, you forgave him when you moved his hand toward your lips, pressing a kiss on his palm, before carefully slipping back his glove onto his hand. With another loving kiss on his knuckles, you bowed at him, but not as a soldier that work for him. No, but as you, his teasing lover who loves to rile him up.

Just as you were about to take a step back, to leave to resume your duties, Dottore grabbed your arm and pulled you behind his desk and onto his lap. Before you could raise any protests, he gently grabbed your chin between his fingers and tilted your head upwards, a little breathless at his sudden actions. "Now, where do you think you're going?"

Similar to the day he rose his voice, you felt yourself grow nervous under his stare. But compared to it, there was excitement flowing in your veins as his arm wrapped around your torso, his breath hot against your lips, mere inches away from one another.

"I have a mission in Liyue, you know?" You say shakily, pressing your body close to his and wrapping your around his neck, in contrast to your words. Dottore absolutely loved the sight of red painting your cheeks, the warmth of your body, the vulnerability you only show to him that he's so addicted to.

Undoubtedly, he missed you so much. But Dottore was never good at words when it comes to how he felt. Actions though? Occasionally subtle to the point, it gets on your nerves, but there are times when he touches you like a starved man. You're utterly obsessed with it. With him.

Clearly, you're never meant to be separated from one another.

Dottore only scoffed at your excuse and before you could say another word, your lips connected.

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coleszzzworld · 1 year

Text

Title~Team.

Yandere! tengen uzui & wives x hashira reader (she/her pronouns) poly! Relationship!

Summary~you have been a hashira for a while now , and your pretty good at your job , what happens when your “friends” eyes fall on you , in a twisted way.

TW⚠️!!!!- cussing,slightly suggestive content, yandere story! , mentions of death.-⚠️⚠️

“I got my team.”

———————————————————————

“Yes I would love too.” I reply too tengen’s invitation too have dinner at his residence , me and tengen met when I first joined the hashira , he has fought with me too kill demons , he says he loves how flashy I am when I cut their head off , “great! I’m sure my wives will be very happy too have you !” He says smiling at me , ‘ah yes , his wives, their great people, I love their company , honestly I feel comfortable around all of them . ‘ I think too myself before pulling myself out my thoughts, then replying, “great! I can’t wait, I guess I’ll see you later “ I say then leaving waving him good bye , “oh y/n , I wish you didn’t have too leave, no matter you’ll never leave us.” Tengen says too himself.

“Y/n!!!~” suma yells at me as she runs up too me pulling me into a big hug , “h-hello , suma!” I say as all the air in my lungs gets squeezed out of me , eventually makio walks out and yells at suma , “suma ! Get off her!! , your squeezing her too death !” Makio says as she try’s to pull her off me , “but it’s been so long since we saw her !!!” Suma says almost on the brink of tears , I smile at her , “it’s only been a week suma “ I say , eventually makio pulls me into a tight hug , “yeah that’s along time !” She says as she holds me , eventually Hinatsuru joins us pulling makio off me , “hello y/n , I’m very happy you joined us tonight!” She says pulling me into a embracive hug , I enjoy her hugs they always feel so safe , “I’m glad to be here !” I chirp too her , hugging back . Eventually we all go in for dinner . Before I sit at the table , I put my sword near the door .

“Y/n! How was your day? , I wanna know everything!” Suma chirps at me , waiting excitedly for my response, before I could respond , “did ya kill any demons?!!?! , did you eat today ?!?! , did you save anyone?!?! -“ she gets cut off by makio , “she was gonna answer but you cut her off!” She says slightly yelling at suma then stuffing her face with the delicious food , “um , no , yes , and no “ I say responding too her questions, then taking a sip of my tea , this tea smells funny , but I can’t really tell why, probably just green tea or something. Eventually tengen cuts in , “so y/n , since your so flashy , do you have anyone at home waiting on ya?” He says taking a sip of his tea , my face turns instantly red , “u-um , no . Im not really looking for someone .” I say nervously chuckling at the end of my sentence, before anyone could Interject, my body feels like it’s having a fever, “I-is it hot in here ??” I say getting hot real fast , “I t-think I’m going too step out , r-real quick “ I say trying too stand up but eventually falling on the ground, then the group surrounds me looking down on me , “oh!, y/n I don’t think you can leave.” Makio says squatting down brushing a piece of hair behind my ear , eventually suma squats down beside her , grabbing my hand and holding into Her’s “I don’t think you’ll be leaving anytime soon y/n!” She says kissing my hand , “w-what , what are you guys talking About?!” I say trying too stand up . But eventually falling back down , tengen bends down and looks me into my eyes , “we love you y/n! , your pretty, smart , very sexy too , theirs no way we wouldn’t love you , every since we met you . We knew we needed you “ he says. Pulling me into I kiss , I try too pull back but my vision starts too fade in and out , eventually he pulls back , and Hinatsuru speaks up , “we laced your tea dear , we knew if we brought up the idea of us wanting too have you in the relationship , you would reject us , so we laced you . You’ll be ours forever dear “ she says then kissing my cheek , “hey! I want too kiss y/n! “ suma says , then makio interjects “no way ! I’m kissing her first !” She says yelling at her , then Hinatsuru joins trying too calm them down , I make eye contact with my sword, If I do full concentration breathing, maybe I can reach my sword . I eventually try , but my luck ran out . Tengen noticed. And kicked me in my chest . Knocking a hard blow too me . Obviously it wasn’t enough too kill me but more too knock me out . The ladies notice this “tengen! You could’ve of hurt her!” Suma says , “no. I delivered a light blow . It was enough too knock her our out not kill her “ he replies. My vision getting more blurry and black I hear the last words before I passed out ,

“Don’t worry, we’ll take great care of you love!” Suma says

Then makio eventually says something “your our honey , ours too love and ours too fuck.” She says smirking

Eventually Hinatsuru chimes in , “makio! , don’t listen too her dear , we’ll forever care for you and love you dear “

And those last words. “I know you’ll be a good girl for us y/n. You’ll love your new flashy life style. “ tengen says smiling at me .

and the world goes dark.

———————————————————————

A/N-(y’all I’ve been obsessed with tengen and his wives bro . I need them fr 😩😩, anyways let me know what y’all think of this . And if y’all want a part two!)

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere shitpost #yandere demon slayer #yandere tengen uzi #yandere tengen and wives #yandere blog #Spotify

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allastoredeer · 14 days

Note

Hola deer I was wondering what are your thoughts of who might have Al on a leash…I know many people are speculating it to be Lilith, but I feel like There is no way Al had a whole breakdown song just for being Lilith lackeys. True it might be that he just wants his power back, but the idea of Lilith requesting Al to keep an eye on the hotel it’s not that bad per se. The way he reacted when Husk mentioned his leash, that was the face of a man who is terrified to lose control and making a deal with Charlie was his last remedy.

The man is desperate and I can’t stop thinking about the fact the he was already so powerful when he come to hell, And unless he met someone who had a lot of knowledge on the place before dying, I doubt he would have got the title of overlord that quickly. Someone must have helped him right?! Same with Lilith. As the story goes she became so very powerful when she feel in hell, but how? Do u just know what your power are and how to use them when u die? Lilith was the first of her kind to get down there, there was no one she could have taken inspiration from. And what about Al’s shadow? I mean what shadows have in correlation with a deer man with a microphone? To me it would make much more sense if when Al was alive, he got in contact with someone very powerful from hell and made the naive mistake to trust it. He sold his soul and he got shadows to help him through his murders, then Upon dying, he made a second mistake and momentarily forgot about his leash, going around and killing Overlords for his own entertainment, until he was called back to fulfill his end of the bargain.

My speculation is that root must have his soul and maybe even Lilith’s soul, or at least some kinda of deal with her, that got her to be the queen she is remembered as. Heaven is the only place where root eyes are not visible, and it might explain why Lilith disappeared for 7 years in the angel land , same as Al. Maybe Lilith helped Al in exchange of him taking care of his daughter for her or something, and while they were together Lilith might have accidentally influenced Al’s opinion on the king of hell as well, causing the man to hate him at first sight lol

Just imagining Lilith ranting about his ex husband to Alastor, like Charlie did about Vaggie, when they were going to cannibalism town it’s so funny to me.

I like the idea that She's just Luci's long-suffering wine mom friend who is amicably divorced from him and ends up gaining a second man child once Luci and Al get together. I think her being the villain it’s just too cliche and I feel like it would be so much better if she actually start bickering with Lucy, angry talking like two feral cats lol

But let me know what you think😆

I get why a lot of people are speculating that Lilith has Alastor on a leash, and I wouldn't be surprised (or upset) if she does, but I really think it's Roo.

Or, at least, I want it to be her so badly.

I agree that I don't think Alastor would have a mental breakdown over being Lilith's lackey. Honestly, I don't agree with whole idea/concept that Lilith is even the bad guy. Like, I won't be mad if she is, because I love corrupt or morally grey female characters, but I think there is so much more going on them meets the eye.

A lot of people saw that 5 second glimpse of her onscreen during the season finale and kind of just assumed she ditched Hell and her family to live it up in Heaven, but I just...that makes absolutely no sense to me, especially given how she's been depicted in the background during the show. Given what little we know about Lilith, I just cannot see her leaving Lucifer, Charlie, and her entire domain to go fuck around in Heaven, whom I imagine she wouldn't have a very good relationship with, anyway.

And yes! I also massively agree about Alastor getting his power from some kind of source. It was specifically stated that he was toppling Overlords and gaining power faster than anyone ever has before, and from what we can deduce from the show, Alastor has the power to actually kill sinners - which isn't supposed to be possible. The only way sinners are supposed to die is with angelic weaponry.

Not only that, it also hasn't been hinted or implied that anyone else has been able to rip apart souls like he does. As far as we've seen from the other Overlords, the most you can do is own someone's soul.

So we have Alastor over here rising to the top of the food chain almost over night, gaining power at a rapid pace, with abilities that no one else seems to have. Yeah, I 100% believe he made a deal with someone when he first came into Hell, and I think that person was Roo.

I mean, what motive would Lilith have for making a deal with this random sinner who just entered Hell? Out of the hundreds (if not thousands) of sinners who have to be arriving in Hell by the day? What would she have to gain by doing that? What could Alastor possibly offer her that she, the Queen of Hell, can't do herself?

But Roo? She's the Root of all Evil. She doesn't need a reason. She can be evil for the sake of being evil. I can see her picking a random, wide-eyed, recently deceased sinner and giving them the deal of a lifetime - one that she can cash in on later.

And even if it wasn't random, I can see her looking for a lackey to give power to, to then use as a pawn farther down the road. I can see her being cunning and careful with who she picks, and I 100% believe she would see Alastor's insecure ass and know that guy would do anything to get power (the faster the better), especially if he only just died and didn't yet understand the full scale and structure of Hell, and how serious those kinds of deals are.

(And I can also see Alastor making a deal with Roo when he was alive and then suffering the consequences of it when he died. That's be super cool.)

As for why, well, Roo obviously doesn't have much sway in Hell, despite being the Root of all Evil, because we don't see or hear about her at all throughout the show. If she had power over any of the 7 Rings, we would've seen it or heard about it. In fact, she's only been alluded to once, and that was in the first episode, during the opening sequence of Charlie explaining Hell's origin story.

Still, Roo has to interact with Hell in some way, considering she's the personification of evil and this is THE place for wickedness and corruption. I just don't think she has power or dominion there. At least, not yet ;)

I think she's been cooking up a scheme for a while and what we're seeing in season 1 is her slowly putting the game pieces into place. I think she has Alastor on a leash (that she's had him on a leash for a while but she's only just now using it), and I think she's also the reason Lilith is in Heaven.

I mean, when you think about it, of course she would want Lilith out of the picture if she's trying to make a power grab in Hell. Lilith was the one running the place. She thrived in Hell. She empowered it. So getting her out of the picture makes perfect sense, and who would even think to look for Lilith in Heaven? The very last place you'd expect her to be?

I don't know, the whole idea that Lilith is just a big bad evil women who doesn't care about her family and hates Hell and wants nothing to do with either of them just...it doesn't sit right. It doesn't make sense.

I do think that Lilith and Alastor have met each other in some way, though. The both of them disappearing for 7 years, at the same time, is too much of a coincidence (I want her and Alastor to be besties :3) and I just KNOW that there is more to Lucifer and Lilith's divorce than people give it credit for. I want those juicy details. I want a full blown argument between them so we can get that tea.

But if Lilith does end up being one of our antagonists in season 2, I won't be upset, cuz like I said, give me those morally corrupt women. They'll be loved and appreciated here.

Still, my gut says its Roo. And even if Roo isn't directly holding Alastor's leash, I think she's involved in some way and that she's going to be coming into play eventually. She seems like the type who would manipulate things from the shadows, using people as pawns, and playing a game that no one else even realizes they're playing. I want her to be a psychotic little mastermind trash lady.

I neeeeeeed it.

#I have so many theories okay #so many thoughts #Im so certain that Roo is going to become our main big bad in the show #especially because Viv SAID this show is more centered around women #but #if Roo doesn't show up #or none of my theories are correct #ill have the clown make-up ready #but my gut tells me she's going to show up!#she has to!#nothing else makes sense!#nothing else matches up with the clues and background information we were given in the show!#Lilith can't just be a big bad women who hurt or abused poor little baby man Lucifer #she can't just be the neglectful mother who fucked off after its been implied how close her and Charlie's relationship was #THERE HAS TO BE SO MUCH MORE HERE #theories #Hazbin Hotel theories #Analysis #Roo #The Root of All Evil #Roo Hazbin Hotel #lilith morningstar #hazbin lilith #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor #asks #twosoulss77

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subskz · 8 months

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Is it just me or is anyone else a bit bothered by the whole femininity = submissiveness thing. Part of me gets it and is kinda into it too but the other part of me sees people saying stuff like “ohhhh he would be so humiliated in makeup and a skirt that’s so hot” and it just feels kinda wrong… like, things associated with women shouldn’t be considered humiliating imo. Like, I am all for dressing up a prettyboy and putting him in a skirt but I can’t label that as intrinsically submissive. That’s why part of me is like really into the whole tough guy/muscle sub sorta thing because I don’t think ideas of masculinity and femininity should be tied to power roles or anything. I was just kinda wondering what ur thoughts were on this?

Tall girl anon

u make a really great point!! i think my views align a lot w yours on this. admittedly the embarrassment aspect is probably part of what makes feminization so appealing, but in my opinion it’s more abt the shyness that comes from the guy having all that attention on him and being praised/complimented in ways he never has been before, y’know? like the unfamiliar excitement that comes from him getting to feel pretty in feminine clothes/makeup and having his appearance admired as the central focus for once <3 since it’s not as common for men to receive that kind of validation i think it’s cute to see their reaction to being treated that way. though this isnt entirely the same bc of the inevitable connection ppl make between masculinity and power, i’d compare it somewhat to the thrill a woman might get from being called masculine titles, bc it’s unconventional and new

but i agree that considering it inherently degrading/submissive to engage in “feminine” things is a harmful way to look at it…it goes hand in hand w the idea that women are submissive by nature and that the only way a man could ever sub is if there were smth “feminine” abt him. u see it all the time w men who have soft, feminine traits being automatically labeled as subs/bottoms, and strong, muscular men being automatically labeled as doms/tops even when their personality screams otherwise. it definitely says a lot abt how ppl view femininity and women as a whole /: ofc there can be some overlap, but in general i completely agree that how masculine/feminine a person is has no bearing on whether theyre a dom/sub!

#ask #tall girl anon

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orbitswritings · 1 year

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Chapter 2 | word count: 1,428

synopsis: Neteyam and you are in a relationship, but you’re a sky demon and he’s the clan’s future Olo'eyktan so you’ve been keeping it secret. However, one day his parents finally catch word of what their firstborn’s been up to, and Neteyam is told to cut any contact with you. Unfortunately for them, he has a plan that he hopes will ensure you two can be together.

A/N: wow that took a while. no warnings yet but next chapter, get ready for some s m u t. and if anyone has ideas for wtf i should title this series lemme know.

chapter 1 | chapter 2

Three simple vague words, but they managed to stop you dead in your tracks. Neteyam couldn’t see your face, but his imagining of your expression made his heart ache and his stomach clench. Slowly, you turned around, revealing the exact expression he’d pictured, only worse.

“W-what?” You softly asked, pain obvious in your small voice. His ears pinned against his head, unable to handle the distress in your voice. Neteyam opened his mouth to respond, but nothing managed to come out.

Dropping the towels, your hands took the sides of your head. The realization was stabbing you, pointed tips drenched in toxins were repeatedly shoved straight through your chest. It was sickening. You shook your head, feeling grief overtake. What his simple words meant were clear as day in what it was going to entail for the two of you: Neteyam was going to be ripped out of your life, you’d never see him again. You’d be banned by the enraged Na’vi clan from ever even looking in the direction of the Omaticaya village.

Over the months you’d come to quickly love Neteyam with a deepness your body has never experienced before- but also, he was your only friend. Your one true connection you felt you had across all the planets and galaxies combined.

On Pandora, you were cursed; too young to properly bond with and be respected in any way by the other older scientists, and far too human to connect with the Na’vi (Spider too, ironically) or any other facet of Pandora’s life. Without Neteyam, you could already feel the return of isolation on this alien planet looming, waiting for the right moment to violently drown you.

Neteyam exhaled, trying to release the tension his body held. He wanted to move, to comfort you, but the last strings of his parents demands echoed within his mind, keeping his feet in place. Ultimately, once he saw the light catch off your welling tears, he could no longer stomach it. The sight of you, all alone in such mental distress caused by his own words. He only ever felt desires to protect you and keep you healthy and happy.

Neteyam shook his head and moved forward taking you into his arms. You flinched, a bit shocked, but you immediately accepting his offer of physical comfort by hugging his waist, burying your head into him. Your tears started to flow, which only made him hold you more securely, keeping your shaking body close, not letting you go. Exactly what his parents explicitly didn’t want.

“We . . . don’t have to separate, though.”

You sniffled, craning your head back to look up at the tall male’s face, confusion clear on your face. “What do you mean?” Already, you were interested. You wanted nothing more than his answer that’ll help you to escape the crushing misery. Neteyam sighed. This was going to be a hard one to explain.

“What I mean is . . . I think I have an idea, but just . . . listen.” You felt nervousness prickle your skin. What was he thinking? On your end, nothing in mind came to an answer, but that was you, a human. Neteyam had exclusive knowledge of his kind and his family, information that may keep you two together. You blinked, hesitantly nodding for him to continue.

He ran his hand across his head, smoothing back his braids as his eyes searched the floor, trying to conjure up the best way to verbalize his thoughts.

“Earlier today, we were talking about what our future holds. What being together might look like. When we both talked, we made it sound so far away . . . . but it may be much closer to now than either of us would’ve ever expected.” He looked from the floor to meet your eyes, searching yours for signs you understood what he meant.=You were confused, reeling through the memory of the exact conversation you two had earlier.

Neteyam watched the realization dawn on you; your eyes opening wide as your shoulders scrunched up in defense.=He felt you pull away in his hold, so he allowed you to freely slip out, knowing forcibly restricting your movements would only make your panic increase.

“Ne-Neteyam!” You shrieked, quickly putting space between you two. You were embarrassed, the sadness from earlier briefly being paused. “That’s-! Insane-! It doesn’t-!” You were flabbergasted, needing to turn your back to him so you could regain your senses without being under his gaze. Your clenched fist went to your chest while your other hand went to your neck, nervously rubbing it.

“Yeah we were talking, but it was just that, talk! It wouldn’t work, never, we’re different species! Human, Na’vi . . . ” It was the whole basis behind his mother despising you, despite never having exchange a single word. “We can’t reproduce-! It’s not even possible!”

“A-And your mother,” You gulped. Humans only a few inches taller than you were already intimidating enough in your mind, now picture a 10-foot tall alien warrior woman infuriated and with a bone to pick, coming after you. That was what fueled nightmares and now Neteyam was trying to bring it into reality.

“Your mom already wants to rip my throat out. If it worked, I’d be stuck looking for the segments of my spine spanning the entire planet.”

Neteyam visibly bristled at the idea, the ends of his lips twitching. He loved his mother with his entire being, but he loved you, too. He wouldn’t let his mother lay a finger on you, did you not know that? Yes, he’d never hurt his mother, but he . . . just wouldn’t let it happen.

“Calm yourself. That’s my point.” Neteyam placed a hand on your shoulder, gripping it securely to keep your focus. “My mother would never kill or harm the mother of her own grandchild! You know how important family is to us Na’vi. You having my child would give us the opportunity to say we’re a mated pair, and force them to accept us.” His tone was rising. He closed his eyes to collect himself, taking a deep breath through his nose before slowly reopening them.

“Look, I can’t promise my mother will ever accept you entirely like she did for my dad, but if you have my child, it would be enough for me to demand you’re seen as my mate and it would be enough to keep her in place. My dad- I know he would eventually come around and accept you, along with all my brother and sisters. They won’t care you’re a sky person. They’ll probably be the first ones to see you as part of the family.”

You didn’t have much experience with the other younger members of the Sully’s, Neytiri would blow a gasket if she found another sky person poking around her children, but his siblings did have a deep affection for Spider, then maybe Neteyam was right in that regard.

Still, having a murderous mother-in-law that could crush you like a bug in an instant, just barely being held back from murdering you by constitution wasn’t exactly selling the idea. Plus, you couldn’t shake off the whole reproduction working. You were doubting the authenticity of Neteyam’s idea, a part of you thinking it was nothing but him pulling together bits and pieces of baseless ideas all on the fly in a desperate bid to save this. Not that you didn’t appreciate his effort, but you wished he had something more solid.

“Neteyam,” You started, looking down at the floor. Neteyam winced, defeat sinking in as he knew exactly where this was heading. “I love you so much, I just can’t-” You stopped, unable to continue. You didn’t know how to continue.

The words to deny his proposal were already in your head, but they refused your tongue, blocked by relentless images of you being engulfed by loneliness after your one companion is torn away and separated by a barrier of thick, imposing forests you’re never allowed to step foot in again.

If someone is on the end of the plank, about to be forced into the dark ocean below, with no other options is it that foolish to pray that a lifesaver miraculously falls from the sky? At least Eywa had a seemingly better record of answering prayers than God ever did. You took a deep breath that filled out your rib cage, before loudly exhaling. “Okay. Let’s do it . . . I will . . . at least try.”

---

Tag list: @neteyamwifesstuff @christinechickiee @heaven1oo4 @bluealiensimp

@ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @n1ght5h4d3-24 @yeosxxx @mirikusashes @llearlert @idktbhloley @mashiromochi @avatarmasterlistblog @twerkingnutella18 @leilaniers @devil-on-acid @kibumslatina @anxietydrogz @k----a27s @grierpilots @bobojojoba69 @mirikusashes

#neteyam x reader #avatar 2009 #avatar imagine #avatar x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #atwow #atwow imagine #avatar the way of water #reader insert

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luv4kokafox · 4 months

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Wow how do u get the motivation to study like this?

I actually get this question a lot, so I’ve tried to put some tips together that help me to stay concentrated for as much time as possible! 🙏

Here's how I do 3-5+ hours of revision each day on top of school*:

1. Set achievable goals

Everyone falls into the trap of thinking they can do more than they think, but ultimately it just makes you feel bad :( There’s nothing worse than feeling unfulfilled at the end of the day because you haven’t “completed your work.”

They best thing you can do is write out your tasks that need to be completed, ordering them in terms of priority and then get cracking! It’s important to note that forcing yourself to do work will never help, it’ll just make the work looked rushed and won’t be your best, do what you can and don’t feel disheartened if you leave something uncompleted for now!! (finish it eventually, ofc ☺️)

2. Don’t put work over your other needs!

I’ve heard some people say that they’ve put off snacking/drinking and hanging out with friends just so that they can study. I can almost 100% guarantee this will just make you more upset!! If you want to go out, go out. If you want to snack, go get a snack! Don’t ever put off your needs for some short term work when we both know you’d be a lot happier talking to your friends 🩷

I know that out there, there are some people who will tell you they forget to eat or drink when they work. Please do not let this influence you. Everyone works differently, and their way is not healthy.

3. Time management

Setting up a revision timetable, with time blocks or not, can really help you to set out an idea of work you’d like to complete! Make it colour coordinated!! Stick it up in your room, or throw it on your home/lockscreen for a reminder!

Everyone works a little differently, for example, I do have a timetable, but I don’t use it in extensive detail. If something else has higher importance, I’ll finish that. If I know that working on a subject really won’t “help” at the time (I’ll go over this later 😋) then I’ll ignore it. It's helpful to have the idea, but don’t restrict yourself to just what you've written on the timetable!

4. Apps!!

I've also found it helps to have a non-academic goal to work towards! I use an app called “Flora” to set time goals and write to-do lists that helps me to get through the nights. For each task I have, the app plants a virtual tree or plant in your garden! You can customise the garden, the title of your tasks and each plant that you grow. The best thing about this app is that it restricts apps on your phone (you can choose which ones!). It acts as a massive deterrent to spending time on your phone and helps you to focus on your work! You can also work with friends and grow trees together, completely free :)

There are many apps like this, Flora is just the one that I use. Take some time to find one just for you!! (flora is the best tho <3)

5. Choosing the right focus

So you have some homework due in a couple of days, an essay next week and a project due in in a month. You're really not feeling good about the homework and the essay just really isn't up your street right now, but that project? You wanna do that! And thats fine!! It's never good to miss deadlines and procrastinate, but if you feel like doing that work now will just lead to it being rushed and feeling incomplete, leave it until later on! Forcing yourself to do a task might make you relieved when you're finished, but it's no way to cheer yourself up.

By all means, don't miss deadlines because of this! You should always try to complete assignments right as they're set rather than leaving them until last minute. Getting compulsory work done leaves more time for you to be yourself, work on your own ideas and have that extra edge above anyone else!

*3-5+ hours on top of schoolwork is a big commitment. I understand this, and everyone is different. Please do not think that this is how much you should be doing, or how much is what makes a "good student." Do what feels right for YOU.

That's all from me, if anyone has any other questions on how I revise or how to revise, ask away! <3

Have a good day everyone!

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yunalinwrites · 4 months

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jjk fics i'll never write (but maybe you will!)

i have a bunch of fic ideas i dont think i'll ever get to bc saved by the bell is taking rlly long and i don't have a lot of time (╥﹏╥)

i still wanna see them come to life tho so i think im just gonna throw them out there for anyone who wants to use lol

idk maybe ill write these eventually but even in that case im not gonna stop anyone else from using them as well

go ahead and alter however u like, but tag me if u use!! im letting u peek in my brain >:)

and even if ur not a writer these can just b like imagination prompts for when u go to bed LMAO

"love is work" - nanami kento x reader

summary: title is self-explanatory tbh--the idea that nanami kento views love as work could be applied to any scenario. but, i think it would be interesting for the reader to be the person he meets at the bakery. maybe the bakery is a family business, so the reader's work is literally driven by familial love. although, im not sure if that means they agree or disagree with nanami about love being work.

alternatively, the reader could be a co-worker of nanami's.

conflicts/themes:

serving oneself vs. serving others

what makes love/work worth it?

"meet cute" - fushiguro megumi x reader

there are so many canon strangers to lovers opportunities with megumi lol.

like, being the person "hitting on" (asking for directions from) fushiguro during that one juju stroll.

or the person getting robbed and saved by the 1st year crew, also from juju stroll. (also applicable for yuji and nobara x reader)

there's also the light novel chapter where megumi and yuji stalk gojo at a maid cafe, so maybe the reader works at the maid cafe, and the very stoic but handsome megumi catches their eye. this scenario could also be applicable to yuji x reader or gojo x reader.

there's also an original scenario i was thinking of cuz megumi likes reading (specifically non fiction) so what if the reader was a worker at a book store or a librarian. maybe they know about sorcery already because they read a non-fic book about it and recognize his uniform when he walks in.

also i haven't seen a megumi x tsumiki's friend!reader, esp considering that one girl when tsumiki is confronting megumi about bullying lol. this one could have an interesting conflict bc that girl urged tsumiki to do the test of courage that ended up getting her cursed! so then how would megumi deal with his love interest (the reader) also being the person somewhat at fault for his sister's demise?

not a meet-cute prompt but generally i think it would b interesting in any megumi fic for gojo to be a conflict. like, as megumi's father figure, he doesn't want megumi to end up like him and suguru, so he's very hesitant about letting megumi fall in love with someone since "love is the most twisted curse of them all." but i think in the end, he might realize that love/the reader is exactly what will stop megumi from turning into suguru, so gojo ends up giving the reader his blessing.

"sugar makes blood thicker" - geto suguru x reader

tw: spoilers for gojo's past/hidden inventory/star plasma vessel/premature death arc, angst, DARK CONTENT, self-destructive behaviors, self-harm, eating disorders

summary: reader is a student at jujutsu high in 2006, alongside geto and gojo. reader is from the kamo clan and uses blood manipulation. they've been taught to keep a very strict diet to optimize the viscosity of their blood. just like how geto hates the taste of cursed spirits, reader hates the taste of their diet. they fall in love with each other, because they've finally met someone that makes them feel understood.

if you want to go even darker, the reader's technique may involve cutting (kind of like marie from gen v)

conflicts/themes:

what's the point of fighting for a world that's done nothing for you in return? ("what has the world done for me lately?")

sugar makes blood thicker, which i can imagine is harder to control for a blood manipulation user

gojo satoru is the opposite of the reader: he eats however he pleases, which includes lots of sweets, so it's hard for the reader to be around him/doesn't like him. as a result, it's also hard for geto to have to pick sides between his best friend and the reader

ending: canon ending; geto chooses reader over gojo; they turn evil and run away together with nanako and mimiko. although it could also be interesting for geto to choose gojo over the reader, or if there's somehow a happy ending for everyone here.

I have no title for this one but gojo x megumi's older sister reader

self-explanatory. during the 2006 arc, after gojo kills toji. they raise megumi together <3

"if only i could go back" - any character x reader

summary: this is pretty self-indulgent lol this one's for everyone who wants to heal everyone's trauma and just have a happy ending lmao. i had this idea of the reader either being a sorcerer or a curse who has the power to grant one wish but in doing so sacrifices themselves (they die). so, obviously, they're in high demand by everyone:

megumi wants to heal his sister

gojo wants to bring suguru back

geto wants to rid the world of non-sorcerers

toji wants his wife back

shoko wants her friends back

etc

some situations the reader may find themselves in are being held at the school so that nobody can use their power unless absolutely necessary. or maybe they were captured by the curse users.

technicalities about the reader's power: they can't grant their own wish, but they have full autonomy over whose wish they can grant, meaning the only way that someone could get their wish granted is through befriending and persuading the reader.

conflicts/themes:

characters having to choose between their wish (which kills the reader) and their fondness of the reader (wanting the reader to stay)

will they truly be happy if their wishes are granted?

how does the reader feel about being the method of people's desires but not actually being the desire?

***

alr im done yapping

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noridoorman · 7 months

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More scrapped Nuzi fics (warning, some is angsty)

Fragmented/Fragments of the past/Echo/Whatever freaking title I had for this:

Uzi crawls on the ground, one arm missing and every inch of her metallic body feeling like extra weight she’s forced to carry. The room around her trembles, the walls shun a blinding white color, piercing the optical sensors of her visor. Some furniture pieces around her began to fade gradually into the white voice as Uzi continued pushing forward, crying out a name so familiar and yet so distant, grasping for something, anything, in her vicinity.

She hears another voice; a feminine one calling out the same name yet everytime it did, their voice would glitch or distort, making it unable for Uzi to hear it.

Yet she knew, the name somehow carried significance.

Uzi pushes forward, her vision partly recovering after having been assaulted by the light to see a silhouette in a glass capsule, several heavy machinery surrounding it. The silhouette turns to her and despite not being able to discern any facial features or attributes tied to the person she can see its somber smile as it kneels down to her level - or as far as it could go.

Again, Uzi calls this name as she stared at the figure, placing her hand weakly against the glass, a feeble attempt to break it. Sobs wreck through her body, begging the person, whoever they are, to get out of the capsule, to not do something that she couldn’t grasp no despite her own words repeating it. The figure’s eyes closed as they shakily exhaled, trying to communicate to Uzi yet all words came out as equally distorted as the name.

And yet, Uzi begged. Pleaded, cried, anything to convince the figure to leave. Yet it only responded by placing its hand against the glass, its words coming out glitched once again.

“Uzi, I love you…”

Her eyes hollow as the now clear words hit her audial sensors. A deep sense of both love and grief shocks her to the core, all sounds she once made fall mute as a sudden realization settles before her. For the few seconds of silence she had, the figure muttered a thousand apologies before the bright void engulfed them both.

What it was: this was meant to be a "what-if" kinda fanfic. Basically, N cannot take the thought of Uzi dying and looked for any chance for an alternative, which he found. He found a machine in the labs that could rewind time, bringing the time back to a time before they met. However, the machine needed fuel and N was the only one that could fuel it through his core. He sacrifices himself, despite Uzi's pleading. Time rewinds and Uzi wakes up without any memory of what happened and N has been completely ereased from the timeline. However, I really don't like sad endings and this fanfic would have ended on Uzi somehow remembering and bringing N back, however...

Why I scrapped it: I don't trust myself to handle heavy topics and angst and make it believable while also emotional. Plus, I started working on Cinnamon Scent and never found the time to develope it further than the prologue. And as time went on I thought of the concept to be boring and was scared it wasn't going to stick with others through all the other creative stuff out there.

Reborn:

"The absolute most angst-filled idea I could possibly think of for this series is N dying and Uzi proceeding to feed Eldtrich N living worker drones out of desperation, willing to sacrifice anyone to get him back. N revives but without any memory of what Uzi did to resurrect him,' with a traumatized, oil-stained Uzi hugging him in silence."

This was a comment a different Tumblr user made and I asked them if I could write a fanfic about it and they said "Sure". Aaaand, I never write it cause again; I don't trust myself with Angst.

Cinnamon Scent Chapter 5:

N // Today at 10:11 AM

“Uziii, I got the appel strudel u asked for! :D”

“But also… a bit of a surprise”

Uzi raised a brow at that, her mind already going in overdrive to try to think what surprise he might have planned.

Uzi // Today at 10:11 AM

“And that is?”

N // Today at 10:11 AM

“How do I say it ahhh”

“Well, it depends on you if it’s a positive or a negative surprise!”

Uzi // Today at 10:12 AM

“Don’t dodge the question”

N // Today at 10:12 AM

“Wahhh, you’re so scary when you’re serious!”

“It’s kinda hard to tell you bc they told me not to tell you”

Uzi // Today at 10:12 AM

“???”

“Who’s they?? Where are you?”

N // Today at 10:13 AM

“OO I said too much, we’ll meet u there!!”

“Wha?” Uzi whispers under her breath, an uncomfortable feeling emerges at the pit of her stomach, making her thoughts go even more in overdrive.

Did he bring a friend along?

With confusion and determination both etched on her face (and some sprinkled in nervousness) her pace quickens as she beelines towards the amusement park, ready to smack somebody if she needs to.

“Hey, Uzi!” Uzi turns around to the sound of N calling for her, spotting him standing near the entrance. And as Uzi had expected, he didn’t stand alone.

“That’s her?” A human with a large bow in her brown/reddish hair and a few freckles on her tanned skin. “It’s nice to finally meet you!”

“Yeah, so nice” A drone with her white hair styled into two twintails responded sarcastically, making Uzi forget about her shock for a second to glare at her.

“Don’t be like that, J!” V lighty smacks the shoulder of, who Uzi now knows is, J. J in turn glared at V’s direction, though the latter seemed not bothered by it.

“I… I didn’t expect you to bring your family,” Uzi chuckles awkwardly, pointing at all the new (and not so new) people behind N. He scratched the back of his head, opening his mouth to speak.

“Yeah, well-”

“We weren’t going to leave him alone with a stranger” J interjects, making N cower underneath her harsh gaze. Uzi only returns that, her shoulders tense.

“Friend. I’m his friend,”

“Guys, let’s not fight!” Tessa stands between J and Uzi, making N breathe a huge sigh of relief. Uzi’s eyes softened a bit, her stance growing less defensive. “N talked about an amusement park at some point. We all thought it would be fun to go together!”

“I wouldn’t be able to sneak out again anyway,” N shoots Uzi an apologetic smile that she returns with a soft sigh, both not hearing J yell in the background ‘again?’.

“No need to be sorry, bud,” Uzi hides her hands in her pockets, trying to mask her disappointment with a casual attitude. “It’s your family, I’m not going to deny you not taking them out here,”

“And we’ll get to spend more time together!” N cheers, looking excitedly at Tessa. “Right?”

“We’ll have to see how it will work with your schedule but otherwise, I don’t see why not!” Tessa ruffles N’s hair, chuckling.

“We’ll also have to see if she’s not a threat!” J argues back, however, it fell on deaf ears as everyone turned towards the entrance, all making their way inside the amusement park while J grumbled something under her breath.

“So, which rides look the most fun?” Tessa strokes her chin, looking at all the different attractions in her line of sight.

“The rollercoaster is pretty cool,” Uzi shrugs. “There should also be a carousel somewhere, but it’s for kids,”

“What about this?” N runs ahead towards a giant mechanical octopus with seats attached to its tentacles. “This looks fun!”

“And dangerous,” J crosses her arms, her eyes moving along the rotation of the octopus.

“I think it’s safe,” Tessa smiles, turning to Uzi. “Right?”

“Oh, uh, sure!” Uzi scrambles together an answer, somewhat surprised that Tessa would ask for her opinion. “I wasn’t on the octopus a lot, it always bored me. My mom thought it was tons of fun though,”

“I got us tickets!” V cackles as she hands each and every one of them tickets, with N taking it eagerly and J more reluctantly.

“V, you know we have to save,” J glares, making V roll her eyes.

“I know, I know, but we can take it easy once,” V hands the last tickets to Tessa. “What fun would we have if we saved every penny only for necessities?”

“They’re called necessities for a reaso-”

“J,” Tessa places a hand on J’s shoulder, making her eyes widen a bit. “Don’t worry about the money. I’ll take care of it”

“But-”

“See? Tessa got it covered!” V walks on the ramp as the ride stops, choosing eagerly which seat she’s going to take. “Besides, you should take it easy especially!”

“If this is what it's like to have siblings then I’m happy that my parents only adopted me…” Uzi speaks her thoughts out loud, flinching as N’s laughter rings out next to her.

“At least it never gets boring!” N takes her hand, leading her to two empty seats. Uzi’s core flutters at the contact, her eyes drifting towards their hands. N helps hoist Uzi up due to her smaller size, only intensifying her already prominent blush.

“I’m… really surprised they came along” A employee fastened their seats, taking their tickets with an odd look. Uzi returned the look with a glare before sighing. “How did you convince them?”

“Oh, there wasn’t any convincing needed!” N beams. “Tessa wanted to go somewhere, I just mentioned the amusement park!”

“Did you tell them about me?” Uzi grips the edges of her seat as the ride slowly begins.

“A little, yeah” N admits sheepishly. “J got suspicious that I knew about the amusement park”

“Of course” Uzi rolls her eyes, her grip tightening as the ride picks up speed.

“Tessa was all for it!” N grips Uzi’s hand, squeezing it as fans begin to whirr louder. “Th-This is my first time here, you don’t mind that I…?” N’s gaze flickers towards their hands, making Uzi shake her head frantically.

“N-Not at all!” Uzi squeezes his hand back, partially to reassure him, partially due to her internal panic. “Be warned though, it’ll get faster,”

“Faster?!” N yelled as the seats began to spin along with the giant octopus in the middle. Uzi cackled as the ride began to spin quiet fast in all directions while N’s grip on Uzi’s hand tightened, screaming as the seats moved up and down.

“Are you afraid?!” Uzi yells, her smile disappearing as she looks at N. However, a nervous smile etched on his face as turned to Uzi.

“This is awesome!” He kicked his feet in the air as the ride continued, making Uzi laugh in response.

Despite the wind tossing and turning her hair in every direction, the adrenalin in her body going on overdrive or the constant spinning of the ride, the feeling of N’s hand intertwined with her’s turned her entire brain functions into mush.

“That was so cool!” V fist bumps in the air as she excitedly jumps off the ride with the rest trailing behind. “We should do that again!”

“Yeah, right, it wasn’t THAT exciting!” J crosses her arms, a frown etched on her face.

“I saw you laughing like crazy, J!” Tessa giggles, fixing up some strands of J’s hair. “Admit it, you liked it,”

“J-Just a little!” J balls her hands into fists but doesn’t fight back against Tessa’s hands undoing her twintails to make it even again. “It’s still overrated!”

“What J actually meant was, thanks for taking me out on this fun trip away from my crippling workload and the same walls I have to witness every day!” V holds her shorter hair up, mimicking J’s hairstyle, posture and voice.

“Aren’t you mature?” J rolls her eyes as Tessa ties the first pigtail up.

“We’re kids, let’s enjoy it as long as it lasts!” V rests her hands on her hips, a smug grin on her face.

“V is right, J” As Tessa finally tied up the last pigtail she kissed the top of J’s head. “I wanted us here so that we don’t have to hide away anymore,”

J groans, her arms dropping to her side.

“Where did you guys live before?” Everyone's eyes turned to Uzi who immediately felt herself shrink under their intense stares. “...too much?”

“I-I can tell you sometime later!” N places a hand on her shoulder. “Right now, let’s just enjoy our… Wait, what’s that?!” N instantly runs away, leaving them all dumbfounded and scrambling towards his direction.

“N, don’t just run off like that!” J scolds as they finally reach him, his gaze concentrated on a giant Shiba Inu plush hanging from the side of a stand. Cans are stacked on top of each other with more different plushies and prices hanging on the sides.

“Do you want this?” Uzi points at the Shiba Inu plush, making N rapidly nod his head.

“Yeah, but… I’d have to win to get one,” N sadly scratches his arm as he eyes the plush.

“My mom used to be really good at those, she taught me a thing or two” Uzi responds somewhat smugly, yet a shy blush showed itself on her visor. “Maybe I could try winning you one?” Uzi smiles, her hands resting on her hip. N’s eyes brightened as he happily bounces on the spot.

“Only humans can participate,” V points at the sign, her expression turning sour. “How stupid…”

“I can try!” Tessa beams, handing the vendor money. “I’m probably not as good but it’s worth a shot,”

“Really?!” N claps his hands, they light in his visor shining somehow brighter. Tessa nods eagerly, grabbing one of the three balls on the counter, raising her hand behind her shoulder to throw the ball. Her eyes squint as pure concentration etched itself on her face, every fiber of her being channeled into landing the perfect shot. The drones all gather around her, looking with both excitement and unease in their eyes.

However, for Uzi, all she saw were the static covered eyes, an image of what should be her mom standing there, ready to throw the ball. Khan places a hand on Uzi’s shoulder, making her look up to him with a curious gaze.

Nori throws one ball and misses.

Wait… Mom never missed?

She throws another. Again, miss.

That’s not a memory.

“Come on, Nori, you can do it!” Khan cheers, looking as if he doesn’t see what Uzi is seeing. The static over her eyes, the clouds in the sky going faster than they should and the feeling of the breeze hitting them in all places at once.

Nori throws again. This time, all the cans fall down.

Cheers emerge from all directions of Uzi’s auditory sensors, voices so familiar and strange.

“Look, Uzi!” Uzi jolts as N holds the Shiba Inu plush at her face, recoiling slightly at her reaction. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“N-No, it’s fine, I was just… thinking?” Uzi shakes her hands.

“Explains why you stood there like a zombie,” J crosses her arms, raising a brow. Uzi opens her mouth, ready to defend herself until N presses the Shiba Inu plush again against her face.

“Look how adorable it is!” He offers for Uzi to hold it but she raises her hands in the air instead, taking several steps back.

“Uh, I-I…It’s cute,” N’s head tilts to the side, a puzzled frown on his face.

“Your fans are really loud!” Tessa notes, kneeling down to Uzi’s level. “Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine!” Uzi takes more steps back as Tessa tries to place a hand on her forehead.

“Are you sure-”

“Bite me! I said I’m fine!” Uzi crosses her arms.

“Watch your tone!” J takes some threatening steps towards Uzi but is stopped by N who stands protectively in front of her.

“J, stop,” N says with a somewhat authoritative tone, surprising everyone. “She probably just feels overwhelmed. Leave her alone,”

J raises a finger, her mouth opening but after several seconds of no sounds coming, her hands fall to her side.

“I think we should all take a break,” Tessa says, trying to defuse the situation. “Maybe we could sit on a bench and stare at the ocean for a bit,”

“Great idea, my legs are starting to hurt,” V stretches her arms above her head, exhaling heavily before walking ahead. “Come on,”

“Do you know where you’re going?” N asks, staying next to Uzi’s side who looked at the ground, absent minded.

“It shouldn’t be that hard to find a quiet corner!”

“You’re walking into the crowd,” J groans.

“Hey, trust my intuition once!” V glares, looking behind her.

“Your intuition got us in more trouble than it actually helped” A exasperated sigh escapes J’s lips but V only chuckles in response.

“Like that one time in the mall?” J cracks a small smile as V mentioned the incident, making Tessa laugh along.

“We were looking so long for you two!” Tessa picks up her pace to walk between V and J. “What made you guys think that hiding into the gaming store was a good idea?”

“It was V’s intuition that made her think you’d look for us there first,” J rolls her eyes albeit with a smile. “Truthfully, I think she just wanted to look at the games there”

“Lies!” V gasps dramatically. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing!”

“It was the truth, wasn’t it?” N laughs from behind the three. “You told me, V!”

“N, you suck!” V yells, making both Tessa and J burst out in laughter.

“Ah, oops, shouldn’t have revealed it, huh?” N scratches the back of his back, a sheepish smile on his face.

The three began telling more stories of the past, recounting incidents or happy memories and sharing smiles and laughter together. However, N caught on to Uzi’s silence and somewhat distant behavior the whole time.

“Hey,” Uzi jolts slightly as N places a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You good?”

“Yes, for the thousandth time, I’m fine,” Uzi sighs.

“You’ve been so quiet though,” N sheepishly smiles. “Sorry about, uh… all this,”

“All what?” Uzi raises a brow.

“I should have told you my family was coming along and not make it out to be this surprise.” An unusual somber expression falls on his face as his lips twitch downward to a frown. “I’m sorry for overwhelming you like this,”

Uzi opens her mouth to speak again but N kept on rambling.

“In fact, I probably should have gone alone!” Slight panic arises in his expression, making Uzi feel a pang of sympathy in her chest.

This is scrapped because I felt embarrassed about the family drama. However, this is only the snippet of what's being edited, there's a ton that will stay the same bc it's Khan and Uzi bonding stuff :3

#murder drones #md #n x uzi #nuzi #uzi doorman #cinnamon scent

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mamasturn · 2 years

Note

hi! i hope you’re having a great day :) i would love to send a req! can u do one of the reader being bothered by someone and austin getting really mad and protective? thank u so much <3

thanks for the ask <3333 hopefully you like it

philia

pairing: austin butler x black!fem!oc

content: austin and his wife hit the red carpet for the first time, but are met with scrutiny

warning: none

She was a quiet individual. Her thoughts, ideas, passions, and inspirations often cast away in the treasure box called her mind. Expressions of emotions jailed behind soft lips he often tried to pry open. She was a quiet individual, and that's what drew him toward her.

She was a lot like him in many ways. At times she found it difficult to speak when anxiety suffocated her like warm hair in a sauna. Eye contact made her nervous as she found it to be "too intimate" with anyone outside of her husband. There were good days and there would bad days, but the growth was commendable.

A bad day came sooner than she would have liked. Premiere day was one that she dreaded. At that point, she'd have to come out of the shadows and the world would have a face to match with the title "Austin Butler's wife." She was fine with no one knowing who she was, that meant no one could bother her. However, she could only go so long with being faceless and nameless.

She'd never been to Paris before and the trip came quicker than she expected. From dreaming of buying a purse in the YSL store (which she had the privilege to do), to riding in the slickest of limos seated next to her husband of just over a year.

He was a beautiful man, both inside and out. Gentle and calm, polite and honest, warm and attentive. Everything she desired in a partner, she found in him and she couldn't be more grateful for that.

He turned his head after catching her heavy gaze. Austin's left hand moved to rest on her inner thigh, the coolness of his wedding band against her warm skin causing her to jump. He massaged her flesh with his thumb.

"You look stunning, love." He leaned over to kiss her neck gently. "Absolutely stunning." She'd been dressed by Cartier for the evening in a floor length gown with a thigh slit going up the left leg. The dress was a deep blue-purple to match the small flower on his chest. Her shoes were silver as well as her jewelry. She typically wore her hair in a bun, however, it'd been pressed and framed her face beautifully.

"You alright, baby?"

The corners of her lips rose to produce the most convincing smile she could muster. She saw the twitch of his brow and the restraint on his face. He wanted to ask why she was lying about how she felt, she could tell. But, he didn't want to push her.

"Mhm. You let me know when you wanna tell me how you're really feeling."

The doors to the limo opened before she could fix her lips to respond. She inhaled deeply as she turned her rings around to calm her nerves. The cheers were heard from excited individuals when Austin came into view. They only got louder when she was fully out of the car.

"And here we have it, actor Austin Butler has arrive with who we are almost certain is his wife." Multiple reporters spoke into microphones and earpieces as they were ushered to the carpet. Her grip around his hand tightened, causing him to pause.

"You alright? We don't have to walk right now, if you don't want to..."

"No, no, it's okay. A little nervous," she admitted. "I'm okay." She gave a reassuring nod and squeeze of his hand before allowing him to lead the way to the carpet. She wondered if they could tell that she was ready to collapse from all that was going on.

The yells and hollers, flashing lights, jeers and boos. How did he deal with it? How did anyone deal with it? She felt his hand snake around her waist and rest on her bottom. "Almost done, baby, you're doing great."

She met his eyes with a nervous smile. "Mrs. Butler!" Her name being called captured her attention. "Tell us--how did you and your husband meet?"

"Coffee shop in Australia during filming," she managed to answer sweetly. "Mid to late 2019, I'll say." "What attracted you to him? His looks or his occupation?" Her eyebrows furrowed. "Was he an opportunity to put your name out there as an attorney?"

She was taken back. Taken back, angry, confused, and embarrassed. They tried to make her out to be a gold digger. Not a woman who worked damn hard in her profession to make it where she was. She needed no help from no man.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't know what you're trying to get at here," Austin interrupted boldly, anger bubbling within him. This was exactly what he feared--a lack of respect for his wife.

"The whole gold-digger assumption is outdated and ridiculous. A woman can be successful without the help of a man. I have nothing to do with her success, it was all her. I just support wherever she needs me to. I won't let you belittle my wife for the sake of a good story to take back to your boss. Talk about me all you want, I'll be damned if you come for her."

"Let's go, sweetheart."

They trailed further toward the end of the carpet. She stopped him though, resting her hand on his chest and bringing her blood-stained lips to his ear.

"Thank you, honey. I appreciate you defending me."

Austin smiled and pulled her closer by her waist, letting his hand drop further. "I always got you...and I'll have you later when this dress is off." A soft giggle fell from her lips as she tipped her head back. She kissed his lips gently and she felt her nerves washing away.

"Looking forward to it, Mr. Butler."

#softlispoken #just a little something #black authors #austin butler x reader #austin butler #writers and poets #austin butler x black reader #support black authors

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coconutcordiale · 2 years

Note

wasted and strawberry lace with sub!rooster for the 1k celebration 💗💗 love u mae!!

your ecstasy (i'm floating away)

pairing- rooster x afab reader

synopsis- sometimes bradley just needs to get out of his head a little

warnings- 18+ minors dni (glen don't read this either ik you want proof rooster's a bottom but this is not the droid you're looking for) sub bradley, dom reader, dirty pics, teasing bradley while he's supposed to be working, unprotected piv, orgasm control, subspace, established relationship so kink negotiation is implied to have happened pre-fic, lots of anxiety and rooster's bummer of a life

length- 1.9k

an- thank you so much jo ily!!!! this is weirdly not just filth it kind of turned into a character study almost? my b

for the prompts wasted; ‘i know baby, I know’ & strawberry lace; lingerie. I had two other requests for {wasted} which’ll get posted separately the muse is just very fickle right now

i think of this as part of the heart in danger (rooster x roommate) universe but can definitely be read separately there's only one comment about it. also let's hand wave the fact that rooster would probably not be allowed to be on his phone while getting briefed on a life endangering mission

the link to lingerie is not very inclusive, if that bothers you feel free to skip the link. it fit perfectly so i had to use it. but as always envision whatever you want :)

title courtesy of dopamine - børns

The problem with being back in North Island is that no matter how many renditions of Great Balls of Fire Bradley does, that pit of uneasiness still sits like a rock in his stomach, reminiscent of the last time he was here.

He remembers being so heavy, having such a chip on his shoulder going through TOPGUN the first time around that it’s a wonder his jet was ever able to get off the ground.

So, when faced with Maverick - the one person who purposely ensured that Bradley was well and truly alone - for the first time in over a decade, the anxiety simmering deep within him starts to claw its way to the surface.

And it’s not just Maverick. It’s all too much; the idea that he might die serving the Navy, die doing the same job his mom always wanted to keep him safe from, die flying as close as he can to a blonde guy with a mustache that he barely remembers – his only real memories of him consisting of brightly colored shirts and deft fingers flying over piano keys.

Or maybe it’s even worse if he burns in trying to emulate the guy that never believed he was ready in the first place.

No time to be thinking about the past, Hangman spat at him. As if Bradley doesn’t know that, how high the stakes are. As if he doesn’t know that he’ll be a danger to the entire team if he doesn’t get his overanxious mind under control; like he’d still be thinking about this given the choice not to.

If only he could just get his brain to shut up for one goddamn second.

He’s pulled from his internal self-pity by his phone, nearly jumping in his seat at the vibration. He really needs to get it the fuck together.

Wanted something fancy under my new button-up today, what do you think?

“Christ,” Bradley mutters, flipping the device over before anyone sees the lingerie you’ve so kindly sent him a picture of, a sinful black lacy little thing, while he should be paying attention to Maverick.

“Feathers ruffled, Rooster?”

Bradley tries to keep his eyes from rolling, he really does, but Hangman’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard to him, always has been. No amount of team bonding and dogfight football can fix that.

He flips the blonde off while Mav’s attention is on Fanboy, not trusting his tone to stay calm. When Hangman finally turns back to the front of the room, he texts you back as sneakily as he can with one hand and his eyes fixed forward.

Are you trying to make me jerk off in the bathroom like a teenager?

I don’t remember saying that was allowed, Lieutenant.

Fuck.

Bradley drops his head back and stares at the ceiling, trying to control his breathing. Whenever you use his rank against him it always spreads heat under his collar.

It only means one thing.

He’ll count his lucky stars that you were able to come with him to North Island, even if there is a death sentence at the end of it. Because you’ve always been able to read him better than anyone.

You must’ve sensed how much he needs this, needs to be taken out of his head for a little while. How his brain’s been running a hundred miles an hour, ever since he got called back.

It’s not something you do all the time, more often than not he likes to take the reins, likes to lay you out and take you apart.

His cheeks still get ruddy with embarrassment sometimes, thinking about how domineering, brushing against the edge of mean, he was with you the very first time you crossed the line from roommates to something more. But he knew what you needed, what you were too scared to ask for.

As it turns out, just as much as he knows what you need, you do the same for him. Like you know everything’s too much for him this close to the beaches of southern California.

That every day his flight suit has sat unpleasantly against his tanned skin. The straps holding him into his F/A-18 have felt like they were in danger of rubbing his skin raw.

Since the moment you both headed stateside his mind has supplied him with endless possibilities of what could go wrong, and probably will go wrong in this mission.

He hasn’t been able to finish one coherent thought. That’s the thing about your mind spinning with possibilities – eventually, they come too fast to really register them. He’s halfway through one nightmare sequence when his brain moves on to another.

Every day he’s come back to you, watched you answer work emails while perched at his Navy-issued hotel room desk, and felt a sob catch in his throat as he considers what he’ll leave behind if he gets chosen for the mission.

He almost wishes he could wash out, but knows his stupid, bull-headed pride won’t let him. That as much as he doesn’t want to be, deep down he’s still the same eighteen-year-old screaming in Maverick’s face for pulling his papers, for telling him he’s not good enough. No matter how much he tries to hide it, the chip on his shoulder hasn’t quite filled itself out.

Sorry ma’am. I can be good.

He can practically see your smartass grin when he gets your response, a simple two words that have him counting the seconds until he can bolt out of the debrief.

Prove it.

You’re still wearing the lingerie that’s sure to haunt his dreams for the next several deployments, that’ll be stuck in his head when he’s suffocating on other pilots’ egos and wishing desperately he didn’t have a bunkmate. It’s pulled to the side, his eyes transfixed on where you’re letting him thrust his thick cock into your wet heat, his feet flat on the bed so he has enough leverage to fuck up into you.

“Stop, baby,” you say, and Bradley knows his face crumples like he’s in pain, but he immediately halts his movements, hands tearing at the bedsheets in protest of the orgasm quickly being ripped out from underneath him.

You run your hands down his chest, nails raking red marks across his pecs, the sharp sting his only tether to reality.

“Plea –” He tries to beg, but it gets lost in a groan as you swivel your hips on his cock, too slow for him to build back up to the edge.

It feels like you’ve been at this for days and distantly, Bradley can tell he’s shaking with need, breathless whines leaving in a stream without his permission as you whisper how gorgeous he is like this. He’d preen under the attention if he weren’t currently floating, as close as he ever gets to flying when he’s on the ground.

He can feel the wetness beneath his lashes, spilling hot tears onto his cheeks as you move to cup his jaw, your harsh grip offset by affectionate strokes across his cheek with your thumb. “I know, baby, I know.”

Sounds are leaving his mouth, he thinks his hands are reaching for you, but he doesn’t know what world he exists in right now, his mind light and high in the clouds.

“You need to cum, don’t you?”

Bradley leans into your touch, the soft pads of your fingers giving him something to focus on, something to ground him as he tries to wade through the fog to understand your words, to be good for you.

Your fingers tighten on his jaw, just on this side of painful, bringing him back to Earth. “I asked you a question, Lieutenant.”

He nods and you tut, the disapproving noise lancing him, your displeasure bringing more burning tears to his eyes.

You look down at him, his world narrowing to the soft light behind you, glowing around your head like a halo and the smile that Bradley has dreamt of on every aircraft carrier he’s had the displeasure of being on since he met you.

“Words, Bradley, you know better than that.”

He can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed about the whine that rips from his throat, high-pitched and reedy. His head is empty, a lone yes rattling around his brain like the last piece of candy in those little cardboard boxes you get at the movies.

“Please, princess.” The words force themselves off his tongue, syllables falling out of his mouth slowly like molasses. “Need you, need to cum inside you.”

He should probably be calling you ma’am or something more deferential given your current situation, but at this point, it’s truly a feat he was able to get any words out at all.

"Good boy."

When you tangle your fingers in his curls and tug, another drawn-out moan leaves his lips involuntarily.

You smirk. Bradley thinks he’ll be seeing that coy, self-satisfied look on the back of his eyelids every day for the rest of his life.

“You’ve been so good,” you murmur, sultry and bringing more heat to his cheeks, which he didn't even think possible after they've been flaming for hours now. He wants to keen, wants to bottle up your praise and live with it inside his ears forever, but you’ve started moving your hips again, building your rhythm back up and it drives any coherency from his brain.

“Cum for me, baby, fill me up,” you whimper, leaning down so your words are hot in his ear, sending sparks down his spine.

His thrusts turn erratic at your permission, hands gripping your hips for dear life as his head falls back, exposing the thick line of his throat. Your hand stays on his jaw, moving down his neck, thumb rubbing softly over his pulse as his climax snaps through him, every muscle tensing and releasing as his vision whites out.

He’s boneless, afloat, mind blissfully, finally blank. For the first time since he got the order to return to California, his chest feels light.

Your hands are carding through his curls, voice soft and melodic when he comes to. It warms him all over. “You back with me?”

Bradley nods, face tucked into your neck. He hears the crinkle of a wrapper, opening his eyes to spy a piece of a Nature Valley bar inches away from him. He wants to roll his eyes, tell you he’s fine, but decides he’s too tired to argue, taking the snack between his lips.

“Thank you for taking care of me, princess,” he mumbles through a mouthful of granola bar.

“I needed it too,” you admit quietly, like you don’t want to ruin the calm that’s taken over your shared hotel room by being too loud. “I know you can’t tell me anything about why we’re here. But it can’t be good, right? It was nice, to be in control for just a little. I feel a bit better now, more settled.”

“Me too,” he agrees, nuzzling the soft skin behind your ear before nosing his way to your mouth for a kiss.

He tries to pour all his love into the press of his lips against yours, hoping it’s enough.

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