#it also being a non human reader is like a little treat just for me

[that1overthere]

Thank you... Who ever you are... For making the ONLY Boimler/Reader fic on AO3...

[cultven]

Hello! Can I request homelander x human reader? Maybe he has some kind of messed up obsession with a Vought employee that gave him a huge cupcake on his birthday but she is just completely blind to it. Like he's just obsessing constantly like "I swear if someone touches you I'll-" and she's just like "hm, he must be hungry" Id love to see what you do with this plot if you decide to use it. Obsessed x dense is such a funny kind of ship to me.

Strawberry Cupcake

Homelander X Reader

Content: Protective Homelander, Jealousy, he is obsessed! and you adore him too, some threats, lots of touching (in non-sexual ways), semi-harassment from a side character but not really

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Non-graphic threats

a/n: I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS GIF also I am currently watching The Boys for the first time and have not made it to Homelander’s birthday episode yet so I changed the request a tiny bit, ty

It began with a cupcake—such a small insignificant gesture for the sender, but a brain-rewiring occasion for the receiver. Homelander stood there, dazed, looking at the large treat on the seven-shaped desk, right in front of his chair. He was publicly celebrating “500 crimes prevented” recently, but the majority of it was just a PR stunt. They faked the last crime, making it extra flamboyant so that audiences had something to gawk over. Vought needed more interest so they threw together some tacky event with overpriced merchandise and a speech from Homelander himself. With a tentative hand, Homelander reached out and held the cupcake in his gloved hand. It couldn’t have been an outsider that gave this to him, no one steps into this room besides those he allowed. Examining it further, he noticed a pink slip on the table next to the cupcake.��

‘In celebration of 500 crimes! Thank you for protecting us. -Y/N’

A simple message, a display of gratitude he receives from strangers all of the time. So then why does this feel so different? So personal compared to the other thanks he gets? He licked some frosting. Strawberry, his favorite. He felt a smile grow on his face. Perhaps it was because you were the only employee to thank him for all the fake-heroic work he has done, or because you were observant enough to know his food preferences, but he needed to find just who you were. 

Immediately he went to Ashley and demanded she find who this Y/N person was. The first time he saw you he was instantly drawn to your demeanor. You didn’t seem scared of him, even though as a higher-ranking employee you should be at least aware of his capabilities. Homelander quickly shooed Ashley away and began to make a civil conversation with you, thanking you for the cupcake with a genuine smile. You happily mirrored a smile back, showering him with praise but also trying to make regular conversation. You didn’t want to seem like a fan or anything. 

The time you spent together was refreshing, humanizing. You treated him not as a machine like so many others before you had. You eagerly indulged in whatever topic Homelander brought up, sparking even more interest in the man. As the night concluded he decided to test you. 

“You do realize that the whole ‘500 crimes’ thing is fake, right?” He said it with a tone intended to make you feel stupid for getting the cupcake, despite his undying gratitude for the small gesture. He needed to know what your reasoning was, or if your pretty little face was just not paying attention to the work they do at Vought. 

“I know! But, I dunno. It still seemed like a cool thing to pretend to celebrate. Plus, I’ve been getting into baking and thought, why not make you something? I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?” You said with a soft smile and a sweet expression. You were so fucking oblivious to the fact he could snap you in half without a second thought it was adorable. But it also scared him, were you that dense in the real world to criminals? With even just meeting you he couldn’t bear the thought of you being injured. And thus began Homelander’s mission to be your guard dog in the shadows. 

He was always there, whether you knew or not, keeping an eye on you. He was horrified when he found out you walked home alone from Vought when your shift was over. Were you stupid? No, he knows that’s not the answer. You were just too kind to ever assume that there were people out there who could harm others without a second thought. It was honestly a miracle you’ve made it this far without his protection. But no need to fear now, he’s got your back. 

When he is making himself known he’s constantly obsessing over you, to the point where everyone else in the room can tell but you. One day Homelander brought you along for a promotional event Vought was hosting for a sponsor. He held your hand the entire time backstage, wanting to keep you close. For the moments where he was forced to be somewhere else God forbid anyone else enter your vicinity because they would have a very stern talking to later by America’s favorite superhero. 

“Y/N, just stay here okay? I’ll be back in a bit. If anyone tries to do something tell me, and I’ll fucking blast their heads off sweetheart.” Homelander looks at you with a serious expression, but you only smile at him back. You believe he’s always exaggerating with his threats, despite it being the exact opposite. If anything, the threats are always tamer than the punishment itself. 

“I know, I know. Anybody talks to me, you'll kill them.” You said with a smile, briefly touching Homelander’s nose with your pointer finger. “You’re so cute. Go get ‘em, tiger.” You shoo him away to Ashley, who is waiting with a bored expression. She’s seen this display a million times, of Homelander swooning over you and you not picking up a single hint. The times when he would make Ashley call you into his office just so he could rest his head on your lap at the end of a particularly long day. When you were running late once to a meeting and Homelander searched the entire city in under two minutes because his overactive mind convinced himself you were dead in an alleyway and he had failed you. When he returned disheveled and ready to burn the entire building to the ground he found you were just in the bathroom touching up your makeup and lost track of time. Somehow in his haste of panic, he didn’t think to check the building and immediately assumed the worst. Ever since that incident, Ashley has made sure you were on time for every event now. She was sure he even leveled a mountain for you once after you thought it had the perfect view for a picnic, but no room for a proper picnic blanket. 

Yeah, the dude was obsessed. This brought about some problems at Vought, but anyone would rather jump off a bridge than confront Homelander about his little obsession with you. 

It was another typical day, Vought had just begun filming for a TV show about The Seven. Naturally, they filmed Homelander’s segment first. You sat in said superhero’s dressing room and watched as he perfectly combed his soft blonde hair into place. You had a stupid smile on your face, gawking at the incredible man in front of you. “You’re gonna do great today! I’m so excited to watch your film.” Homelander looked over and saw you practically jumping in your seat with excitement. It warmed his heart to see you so genuinely enjoy him doing simple tasks like mindlessly talking to a camera for hours. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Homelander puts down his comb and saunters over to your chair, bringing you into a sudden hug. In truth, he can’t stand physically being away from you for more than an hour. He feels right when he’s with you, he feels like John, not Homelander. It’s such an overwhelming feeling of comfort he feels, he could cry each time you touch. If this is what true love feels like he wishes all his enemies feel it so he can rip it away from them. How excruciatingly painful that must feel shakes him in maniacal ways. 

“John?” You’ve become accustomed to using his real name with him by his request. The simple title shakes him out of his thoughts and brings them back to your shining face. “What’s the hug for? Not that I’m complaining but…” You trail off, arms wrapped around his torso reciprocating the hug. 

“Can’t hug my girl?” He playfully smiles, squeezing your small body with only a percentage of his power. We all know what would happen if he did it with full force. He leads you out into the hallway in front of his dressing room door. The expression he wore was akin to the face a puppy makes when it gets kicked. “I have to go film, but remember if anyone fucking touches you I’ll burn them until their unrecognizable,” Homelander said with a nonchalance that should have horrified you, but you simply smile when he pats your head, kisses your cheek, and leaves the room. As you turn to go your own way you see an intern for the television company standing there, mouth agape. Their expression was almost laughable. 

“He just must be hungry!” You giggle. 

As the day progressed Homelander became increasingly irritated over the fact he hadn’t seen you in hours. The underpaid employees were consistently getting berated and yelled at by the man. “Go find Y/N…” Ashley whispered to an intern after a particularly realistic threat spewed from Homelander’s mouth. 

Looking up from his tiny rampage, it was evident that Homelander had heard the request crystal clear. Deciding he was done with idiots for the rest of today he left with a grumble, “Don’t bother, I’ll find her myself.” 

Finding you wasn’t the problem, it never is with Homelander’s unique abilities, but finding who you were with was something else. Somehow a random D-list superhero had found its way onto the set and decided that you were the lucky girl who deserved his charm today. Unlucky for that man, Homelander’s already sunken mood had just become much more severe. He was clearly making you comfortable, backing you into a corner where you couldn’t escape. He wasn’t quite touching you, but he was only a breath away from being able to. The sigh almost activated Homelander’s eye beams right then and there. He felt animalistic, and territorial over you. 

With the best fake expression he could muster, which wasn’t very good, he casually walked over to the two of you. As the man next to you saw who was approaching his eyes lit up and his body seemed to forget you were there, so enthralled by the man in front of him. Wrong reaction. 

“Homelander, sir! Wow, it’s such an honor to meet you.” His hand stuck out, waiting for a handshake it would never receive. 

“Right,” Homelander’s smile was strained. “And what is going on over here?” 

The man seems taken aback by the question, not quite sure why Homelander was interested in what was happening. “Oh, um, me and girly over here are just chatting. Think I might get to home base tonight, if you know what I mean, haha.” He winked at Homelander, a disgusting and provocative gesture. Gauging your reaction to this comment, a look of fear in your eyes and a pleading look sent John’s way, he almost evaporated the man right then and there. But he kept his cool, he wouldn’t want you to see all the dirty work he has to do after all. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Homelander said plainly, making the other superhero, if he could even call himself that, cringe at himself. John stood there, eyes now locked on you. You looked so fragile in this position, like something he needed to protect. Sometimes he felt his abilities were given to him for that sole purpose; to protect you from the world. Even if that wasn’t the case he does so anyway. 

“Right, well, um…” The man stuttered out, embarrassed at the exchange. 

“What are you doing here? It’s surprising they’d invite a D-tier superhero to a Vought shooting.” Homelander questioned, changing the subject away from you. This seemed to bring the man’s personality back. 

“Ah! Well, they wanted to include a segment where you were helping smaller heroes, you know, to show you don’t care about status and everyone is equal.” 

“Well isn’t that nice?” Homelander’s grin toward the man only became increasingly artificial, smile lines dancing on either side. He turns to you. “We’ll be right back, sweetheart. Just going to chat about the show a bit.” He winks at you, before ushering the man away out the back. 

It was an hour later when Homelander came back, seemingly much calmer now. Ashley began yelling at him, scolding him for making them wait before he shoved her aside and beelined for his dressing room where he knew you were sitting all pretty waiting for him. 

“There’s my beautiful girl.” He cooed, walking over and taking you in his arms, the scent of your shampoo entering his system. 

You giggled. “Where have you been? Still talking to that one guy? I don’t really like him, he was being weird.” 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. He wasn’t a good fit for the show anyway.” Homelander wiped a bit of charcoal off his suit. “The team decided to fire him.” 

“Mhm, I don’t disagree with that notion.” You nuzzle into Homelander’s chest before noticing a small box he was hiding behind his back. “What’s that?” 

“Oh, this?” A wide smile played on the man’s lips. He presented the box, a red ribbon sealing the deal. “A present to cheer you up from earlier.” You thanked him before eagerly taking the box into your soft hands. With one fell swoop you managed to untie the ribbon to reveal one strawberry frosted cupcake that you then both shared. 

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling (2)

[Astarion x reader] Due to surprisingly overwhelming demand, the previous fic, along with this one and many more to follow, will now be part of a series!! It was honestly very difficult trying to come up with what happens next, but here we are. The idea came to me during a fever!! |Word count: 2.5k.| Based off of this post I made.

Part 1 here!!

Next part here!!

The reader believes they are in a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time their fantasies conjured up such an obscure, yet somehow realistic scene. And so they’ve elected to treat the experience with as much realism as one would observe in a dream; little to none.

Alternatively;An ex-art-student-now-traveler accustoms themselves to the party.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

“Shadowheart. Shadow…heart. Hm.” His gaze bounced between you and her. 

“I’m sure her parents meant well, but the name is rather ominous, isn’t it?” He leaned over to your side, not bothering to hide his blatant distrust. Lowering his voice dramatically, if anything.

“Unless she chose it herself. Which is even more worrying, honestly.” He chuckled out.

It had been no more than two bells after mornbright when you met Astarion. Since then, you’ve come to realize how…different your presence has changed the course of the story. Though more subtle than you expected.

It would seem as if you had met the elven vampire before the party was formed, which was strange as your last save point was far later than that and the forest had been quite a long way from the beach.

When you finally stumbled upon Shadowheart, he was quick to share his inner thoughts that you haven’t heard from the game before. 

As they continued with their quest to find a cure for the Illithid problem, expanding their party as they did so, you had tried to make yourself useful by doing the dirty work for them. Looting and opening crates filled with camp supplies, armor, and potentially useful weapons and artifacts could always come in handy for trade or for “artifact consumption,” as per Gale’s need. Sorting them for your group’s convenience.

And while you did not have more direct and immediate practical use for your course of study in the modern world, the research you’ve created and reviewed for character creation and world building was doing wonders for your survival.

Or as much as it can for a magicless, not so athletic human. 

The “runes” of the medieval ages that have been carved into stone, along with the basic history and background of the common races and deities of the fantastical world that tabletop RPG has offered puts you at quite an advantage.

Not to mention your experience with the areas of the game giving you the same effect.

But this library of information had also aroused something akin to suspicion and concern. It would be understandable if you were a simple traveler just like them, or perhaps even an artisan from the guild, but you were not as astute as either background.

So how could you have access to this much knowledge yet be unaware of more practical matters? It’s as if you had simply read about it from somewhere. 

Astarion had been quick to give an explanation before you could form one of your own that could poorly convince your companions. Although, perhaps his suggestion was more outlandish than anything you could have come up with.

“They came with me. Property and all the formality that comes with it. A family pet, if you will.” A perfect excuse to justify your constant proximity to him, and a likely explanation to being well read, but not well experienced.

You thought nothing of the title, your apathy to the non-hazardous labels of this world apparent.

The same couldn’t have been said about your associates who had a few comments about this disclosure.

“I am unfamiliar with the–well, I shall not say ‘culture.’ ‘Customs’, perhaps. I did not think your kind to house such breed of cattle. Perhaps they could be useful.” Was Lae’zel’s. 

“I assure you, they typically don’t. Humans aren’t naturally subservient to Elves, at least in this manner. This setup sounds more akin to slavery. Blink twice if you need help.” Was Gale’s response. 

“It seems like Astarion's from the upper city, given the embroidery on his armor. I wouldn’t put it past them to have servants that follow them around.” Shadowheart’s nose crinkled at the thought. 

The party already had such an interesting rapport. Not entirely comfortable with one another to divulge everything, but loose enough to have semi-pleasant conversation with.

You thought this as you sorted out the fruits of your collective labor into neat pouches and bags, keeping items similar to one another factioned into their respective holding space. The chest being closer to Withers more than you’d like, but it was nice to hear the ramblings of an…undead person? Hearing someone continuously talking allows you to be more productive.

You’ll admit, handling enchanted armor and crystals does make you a tad nervous but you’re comforted by the thought that it will not be you who wields it in battle.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Gale approaching your direction. Possibly to ask for his share of the camp supplies just a little earlier to sate himself as you had an abundance of it for now. You regard him with your back turned and he stops for a bit.

“I will say that I don’t have the lightest of feet, but I figured myself better at sneaking around.” It’s not his fault that he got caught, but the bright purple robe and the smell of the oils you’ve been crafting for them are particularly noticeable.

“You are, but I’ll assume you're not exactly in the best shape after dealing with a few goblins.” You hold up a bottle of a healing potion, swinging it a bit with your fingers to indicate that the smell had warned you of his arrival.

“You’ve got a keen nose on you. Must be from all of Astarion’s training but, speaking of which,” He nears himself to your crouched form, going in to lean against a very old and empty crate.

“Gale, wait–” Right as your warning leaves you, they seem to evade him as falls right through the wood. A comical layer of dust and lichen pluming out from the force. He tries to quickly recover from both the physical and emotional damage as he brushes himself off to make himself presentable once more. 

“Ahem, as I was saying,” He again makes his way over to you, settling for just standing close as his attempts to look unbothered temporarily cost him his ego.

“I was serious about what I said before. While I don’t know what to make of our pallid friend just yet, as enigmatic as he is, what he said before is quite confusing. Best make haste away from here if you want your freedom while we’re distracted with this worm problem.” His tone suggests a genuine concern which confuses you.

You’d be lying to yourself if the label of the set up didn’t sound odd, but you’ve never expressed discomfort as there was nothing all too worrying about it on your end. It was mostly for show, and you had as much independence as Tav would have in your game.

You endeavor to quickly dispel his worries.

“You don’t have to worry, I’m very satisfied with my servitude under Astarion. He’s very lenient and reliable, and I’m better off with him than on my own." You return to your task of sifting through your materials but pause and look back up at him to continue.

"I do thank you for turning my way though. Your concern is much appreciated but unnecessary.” You lowered your head a bit to show your thanks.

“Well if someone as generous as yourself says to trust you on this, then I have no choice but to concede! I’ll keep a watchful eye and offer guidance, should you need it. Also, do we happen to have something for—” As he asks you for some sort of salve, just a few ways off, your eccentric “handler,” of sorts, watches the two of you interact.

Don’t get him wrong, such matters don’t really catch his attention, but being an elf does curse him with the ability to have extensive hearing. Something that he thinks Gale knew, and something you forgot. That would explain the lack of distance between you two.

He thinks it’s amusing how the wizard is trying to make conversation with you as if you were some foreign creature. His usual eloquence nowhere to be seen, and you seemed as unbothered as ever. Like how he usually saw you when you conversed with someone through a crystal.

It was a phone, not that he knew that though.

“They’re a real nice one, aren’t they?” Karlach says from her side of the camp which was nearer towards his tent and yours.

“Hm, yes. While that may be an admirable trait, it’s hardly going to get them anywhere if they keep this up.” Astarion huffed out, not very keen on your altruistic playstyle so far.

He doesn’t know much about what you do and don’t know, all he knows is that you do know of the events to unfold and could be the key to defeating his master.

 All he needs is to keep you at his side. So he’ll allow you this much freedom.

“Oh come on, you. You can’t seriously think that after everything. Our camp’s pretty well maintained because of ‘em, not to mention the connections we’ve been able to get!” She fortifies her statement by knocking on her chest, the engine humming within feels lighter and newer since you’ve informed her of the tiefling blacksmith at the grove. 

He hums in response, returning to reading his book as he thinks about his growing hunger. He’ll have to hunt soon enough. While your positive reputation occasionally reflects on him by proxy, it can also reflect negatively due to the alleged nature of your relationship. If he wants the journey to a way of understanding the tadpoles to be a more comfortable one, he has to at least prevent their trust in him from diminishing.

~

Night falls later than he’d have liked, having waited for everyone to be asleep so that he may prowl the forest for sustenance.

The rest were sound asleep in their bedroll as the skirmish from earlier on in the day had proven to be sufficiently tiring. The crackling fire surely brings a lulling warmth that he supposes he’ll have to miss out on for a while.

As he begins to slink off into the darkness, he looks back to gauge his surroundings and catches your form from across the settlement. It seems you were tallying away the items in the shared chest and double-checking to see that everything is checked and balanced with your records. 

Your shoulders jump at his suddenly standing form, but try to understand his intentions. You mouth, “where?” with a very confused face, to which he responds with a simple shushing motion and waits for your acknowledgement.

You nod slowly, and he holds your gaze before sneaking off once again.

‘He’s coming back, right?’ You wondered. The progression of your experience now in comparison to the game was vastly different, and you didn’t know if all scenes, or only some, would present themselves in this world. You assume he planned to hunt, and while you trust his abilities, you want to make sure he’s attended to properly should he be harmed in any way.

So after retrieving a few potions, a journal, and a pencil, you stashed them in a satchel and positioned yourself at the base of the tree in the direction he left in. You weren’t particularly sleepy tonight, and planned to pass the time in wait of your companion. 

There wasn’t much to do in this century to keep yourself entertained. The only things you’ve found so far were a few instruments and all manners of journals and inks.

The inkpot that you picked up appeared to be red this time. The game of, “which ink dye will I get this time?” will have to be the most of your entertainment for now. Not all too different from home, you suppose. And while writing keeps your mind at bay, illustrating all manners of wildlife have proven to be quite the fun exercise. 

You’ve made a few notes on creatures that you and your company have encountered. The visual elements of a drawing allowed you and the others to keep track of materials that could be salvaged from them, and their resistances to certain attacks. 

Though as much as you liked depicting such lifeforms in paper, you’ve come to be very interested in portraying your vampire friend.

Evidence of your interest present in the pages filled with his likeness as you search for an unmarked page. You’ve made a few of the others, yes, but anyone who would gain access to your journal would surely see which member of the group you favor more.

You continued to draw, and occasionally write, on the parchment as you waited for Astarion to come back. All sense of time evading you as you focus on the task at hand.

A perfect opportunity for a tired rogue to surprise an unsuspecting human.

“And what are you still doing up, little one?” He appears from behind the very tree you rested against, causing you to spill a bit of ink on your thumb.

You clicked your tongue, not at all annoyed by the character but by your absentmindedness and now stained appendage.

“Sorry, I was just waiting for you.” You sealed the inkpot, and gathered your materials. Effectively, but unknowingly, hiding your work from peering eyes that were the same deep red as your finger.

“I’m very flattered, darling. But couldn’t you wait until morning? I'm sure this couldn’t have been all too important, yes?” He gestures to your satchel, referring to your journal, but you misinterpreted it as him asking for your medical supplies.

“Oh, that depends. Are you hurt, by any chance? I stayed awake in case you might've needed help tending to yourself.” You opened the pouch to reveal its contents to him, your stained thumb in full view.

The sight makes him sigh out, but is thankful for your offered service.

“I’m alright, nothing of interest happened while I was away.” He considers telling you about the nature of his little…'escapade.' He's unaware if you are of his condition, and he doesn’t wish to out himself if not necessary to avoid possible conflict. So he settles for advising you to rest.

“We need you well rested, my dear. You sleep. I’ll keep watch.” The dialogue is familiar, and you can’t stop yourself from letting a small laugh out as you responded with an equally familiar line

“Thank you. I’ll sleep better for that.” You lower your head as you usually do in gratitude.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He mirrors your gesture, albeit in a way that is most appropriate for someone of his character. “Sweet dreams.”

You walked back to the chest. Returning the potions and ink you’ve plucked from the supply, but keeping the rest of the pouch’s materials with you as you turn in for the night. Awaiting the promise of further study that a new day typically makes.

As Astarion is left with his own thoughts, a sour taste still in his mouth from his earlier meal, he thinks about the man in the journal you kept. He did not see much, only a vague outline of the figure. He thinks about who, or what, it could have been but dismisses the thought rather quickly.

He has no time for a mysterious person with hair less perfect than his own, touching his untainted locks as he does.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Thank you everyone for your interest in the series!! As per the request of some, I'll now be adding a taglist!

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, and @tiannamortis for asking to be tagged!!

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mention of abandonment issues, stealing, mention of abuse, mental health words -> 2.5k

abstract -> never worry someone who could blackmail you as punishment...

mingi’s perspective

How was I this unlucky?

I should’ve listened to Yunho… I shouldn’t have robbed her. She always had one of her hybrids around and of course, she had one yesterday… Why wouldn’t she?

“Hey, buddy. You’re done with the evaluation today. You're code green!” One of the workers said and I nodded.

He kept writing things on that clipboard of his… in front of the kennels…

“I wanna see Yunho,” I muttered and he sighed. “His owner took him. I doubt you’ll be able to see them unless they come here.” He said as he led me inside the facility again. I missed him.

“What do you want? Money? Name your price!!” I heard as we went to the reception area. “Mingi!” I heard as I saw Yunho. I came up to him and hugged him but I saw he winced a little bit.

“I’m sorry” I apologized and he chuckled. “It’s okay. We’ll be together soon” he said and I doubt that’ll ever happen. Empty promises… he often liked to give me false hope. 

“Miss, we can't give you her phone number because you asked. That’s a violation of privacy and security—“ ”I don’t care! That bitch got my husband fired!” She yelled hysterically. “The girl is apparently a CEO's daughter and now he’s fired because of how she treated her yesterday,” Yunho said and I laughed. It was deserved. 

“I’ll pay you… a thousand dollars” she offered and I sighed. She’ll never change… but I guess that's just who she is… “Come on, Mingi '' I heard one of the workers wanting to lead me away. “Huh? Please can I stay for a little?” I begged and he sighed but nodded. He was unleashing me when the receptionist came up.

“Chenle, can’t I just give her y/n’s phone number and get a thousand dollars?” the boy asked and I almost laughed. It was easy money and for a lot.

“Is it really worth it?” the other boy… Chenle asked. “Huh?! Of course, it is! I’m sorry you’re so rich you can afford anything like y/n” he pouted… He was also rich? Must be nice… being human and no worries. 

“If you give her y/n’s phone number she’ll kill you” Chenle warned and the receptionist pouted.  “She’ll understand,” he said and Chenle scoffed. “You’re playing with fire,” Chenle said and the receptionist shrugged. 

“I’m sorry but I have a business to attend to,” the doctor said as he left my previous owner…

“What are you doing here?” She asked while looking at me. “What if I call y/n to come here? That wouldn’t be a violation of privacy?” The receptionist offered and she smirked.

“Then do it,” she said but he put his hand out. She rolled her eyes and gave him a check of what I assumed to be a thousand.

“She’s gonna kill him, '' Chenle muttered to himself and it seemed to get Yunho's attention. “Is she scary?” Yunho asked and the worker sighed “y/n? Kinds of… I mean she only gets angry and she already humiliated and insulted one of her hybrids so yeah she’ll be mad to be tricked by Haechan'' he explained and I realized she protected her hybrids.

She really did care a lot for them. 

“y/n!!” The receptionist said. “Idiot” Chenle muttered. “Kun wants to do a last-minute check on San. Hmm? No, it’s nothing serious but he wants to go over some lab results he missed from his last check-up” the receptionist said. 

“Ok, thank you. See you see y/n” he said and told the devil herself to sit down.

“Easy!” He said to Chenle and the boy only scoffed. “Even if I was in debt like you, I wouldn’t mess with y/n. She got her husband fired, she can get you fired. You know how much Kun respects her” Chenle said and the boy chuckled. 

“But a thousand dollars!” He said and he rolled his eyes. “Haechan, you’re dead. Take care of Mingi, I actually have work to do unlike you” he said as he left me with Haechan.

“I heard you were code green. Congratulations!” He said and I smiled while looking at Yunho. “Is y/n a bad person?” Yunho asked and Haechan shook her head. 

“One of the best people. She’s just scary when mad, she is a CEO’s daughter” he chuckled and I sighed. Eventually, I was just sitting in silence by Yunho… I missed him a lot. We were never separated for this long… I was alone.

It didn’t even take long until I saw the familiar girl but with her panther hybrid… a hybrid that Yunho seemed to be scared of in the rare chance he accompanied her. Haechan approached her and I heard him apologize in advance.

“y/n right?” the devil said and the girl glared at the receptionist who was admiring his check. 

“Look, I want you to take back whatever kid bratty behavior this is. You’re messing with people's lives honey and—“  “I don’t really care what you have to say. If you’re so worried about your lives you would've been nicer to others” she said and the devil scoffed.

“Oh come on! Just tell daddy that what you said was some joke and that—""Why don’t you tell your husband for a divorce since I feel bad his career was ruined because of your mouth” she said and I felt my eyes widen. I looked at Yunho who had the same expression. The devil was gonna slap her but the hybrid seemed to react faster when he grabbed her hips and pushed her back. 

He growled at her for attempting to hit her. 

“What’s going on here?!” I heard as I saw the doctor. “Look, miss, you need to leave before I call the police.” The doctor said, “You should call the police, she's crazy,'' y/n said and the devil incarnate grabbed Yunho's collar and took him with her. 

“Why’d you come?” The doctor asked and I was now alone. Yunho is gone again… I had no one… again.  

“I don’t know. Haechan, why was I here again?” She asked annoyedly and the boy smiled awkwardly.

“I’m gonna take my fifteen minute break”

“Sorry y/n and San” Kun said and I shook my head. “It's not your fault and I can't blame Haechan too much, he is a student in debt.'' I said and he smiled softly while bowing.

“Can I ask how the situation is going?” I asked and he sighed. 

“Yunho and Mingi were both adopted at a young age from breeders. Yunho is a golden retriever hybrid, whilst Mingi is a wolf hybrid. However, he was the runt of the litter whilst Yunho was the only hybrid born from his mother. Their owner originally wanted to adopt only one hybrid but adopted the two” he explained.

“But why would she change her mind?” San asked and I could tell Kun was a bit stressed with how he started organizing his paperwork.

“They're a bonded pair. Almost like mates, but being separated is affecting Mingi's health. So it wasn't recommended to separate them when they were so young and it still isn’t” he explained and I felt bad for the wolf. “It’s almost as if San or Wooyoung would be separated from you. Even though your tigers and dog hybrid care about you, those two are unhealthily attached to you…” he said and I knew what he meant. How they reacted when they thought I was dead was… an example. 

“What’s the difference between the two then? She seems to prefer the dog?” San asked and Kun agreed. “She explained that she didn’t expect the hybrids to be so tall yet so big in size. She has kids and she even claimed that he attacked her kids, but he isn't remotely violent at all. The golden retriever would do more damage before the wolf would” he explained and I was assuming she lied about it to get rid of him easily. 

“I want him to apologize to you,” San said to me and I looked at him a little shocked. “San, he was doing it to survive-” “He still stole from you…” he said and I turned to Kun who looked at me a little mischievously… “Why are you looking at me that way?” I asked and he chuckled softly.

“Here,” he said as he handed me a pamphlet for… fostering hybrids. 

“No–” me and San said but were both interrupted. “For now, so he can forget about Yunho, he’s going through depression and all of the green code hybrids have been transferred or can’t be with other hybrids. He is going through a dependent disorder, which I think can be broken by being with other hybrids” he said and I really felt bad and a little guilty… even though I shouldn’t.

“Just for a week” he begged and I sighed. Before I could deny he reminded me why I hate men. “You owe me for letting you adopt the two tiger hybrids and stressing me out,” he said and I scoffed. 

“Fine,” I said knowing I couldn’t do anything with that card he pulled. “But he isn’t staying with us permanently right?” San asked and I shook my head.

Kun soon called in Jisung who was leading us to Mingi… “Another hybrid? Are you–” I interrupted him by showing him the pamphlet and he laughed. “You’re getting blackmailed by Kun?!” he let out and I rolled my eyes.

“Mingi, come on we want you to meet someone,” he said as he looked up at his sitting position to widen his eyes in shock and I could tell he was a little scared.

“I-I’m sorry! R-really I… I don't–” “Calm down, buddy. Deep breaths she isn't gonna do anything to you. She’s here to help, think of it as your treatment” he explained and the wolf nodded slowly not knowing what was happening. 

“Ok so the foster hybrid process is–”

mingi’s perspective

My treatment was under a foster hybrid program with y/n. The woman I stole from… the woman who I shouldn't have stolen or else I would’ve been with Yunho… a woman with five hybrids who will hate me.

I expect her to get back on me… maybe starve me? Or hit me? Any form of punishment 

I don’t know yet… Her hybrids seem pretty happy and healthy? I couldn’t assume though, she might be an awful person and abuse them… but Yunho said he didn’t think so.

“We’re here, you’ll be sharing with my tiger hybrid, Hongjoong,” she said and I think she meant the tiger that was with her the day we were caught… the one who almost attacked us? 

“y/n! You're back! Yeosang is being mean… ” I saw a fox hybrid happily approach her only to stop at the sight of me. “You started… it?” I soon saw a dog hybrid glare at me… both were confused at seeing an unknown hybrid in their home. 

“This is Mingi… Kun asked me a favor and we’ll be fostering him for a week” she explained and the fox scoffed. “Fostering?” the dog said, confused. “It's a program where you can trial run a hybrid to see if they are a good fit for you” the fox explained and the dog glared. 

“No! The tigers are enough and now him! You didn’t even ask us!” he said angrily. “The doctor technically blackmailed her to take him. He won’t stay here for long… only a week” the panther glared at me.

I already didn’t feel wanted. 

The fox and dog glared at me. “Come on… don’t be mean,” she said softly while approaching the fox hugging him. He hugged her back tight… She also smiled sweetly at the dog who caressed her head.

“Fine… but there's no room for him in my room with Seonghwa, he’s already enough to deal with,” the dog said and she smiled softly. ‘He’ll be with Hongjoong” she said and he laughed. 

“Tell him that, he literally locks himself in there,” he said and I think my roommate won’t like me already.

“Is y/n back?” I heard as I saw the two tigers who stopped at the sight of me. “YOU!” the orange tiger yelled and I panicked. “Why is he here?!” he yelled and I wanted to leave… bury myself in a hole. 

“You know him?” the panther asked and he scoffed. 

“He’s the wolf hybrid who robbed y/n!” he said and they all looked at me hatefully… this wasn’t a good idea. “Come on… he did it to survive. Hongjoong don’t act like you never wanted to escape. All of you did besides Wooyoung” she scolded and they all looked away from her but the fox. 

“His friend was taken away from him. So be nice, he doesn’t have a home and he’s not as lucky as you guys” she said and they nodded. “Sorry y/n,” they said. 

“Hongjoong, he’ll be sharing rooms with you– “ he looked shocked and was about to argue “Only temporary! Please?” she asked and he sighed but didn’t have any other choice but to nod even though I could tell he didn’t want to.

“Mingi, are you hungry?” she asked me and I was but I didn’t know if this was a trap… she didn’t seem bad. They all seemed like happy hybrids. I shook my head despite not eating today.

“Hongjoong show him your new room okay?” 

“I’m sorry for what she said to you by the way,” I said to the tiger who I saw froze for a second before shaking his head. “It’s not your fault… you should be apologizing to y/n for stealing from her. And for tricking her like the two of you did, she felt betrayed” he explained and I nodded. 

“Yunho really liked her…” I muttered and he didn't say anything. 

“I really like your hair,” I said and he smiled softly. “Thanks… y/n said I could get it done. I was overdue for a haircut,” he said and I smiled softly. 

“I’ve been to your show before,” I said… and he sighed. “I’m sorry you went through that…” I added and he nodded. “Just don’t mention it around me or Seonghwa… he's the other tiger hybrid,” he said and I nodded. 

“Anything else I should avoid?” I asked and he nodded. “Don’t get too close to San… he’ll attack you. He isn’t too good with new people especially hybrids” he explained and I was curious as to why…

“Also don’t show, Wooyoung, you're annoyed with him. He’ll be upset. While staying away from Yeosang he’s very possessive of y/n '' he explained and I was overwhelmed. 

“What?” I asked and he chuckled. 

“You’re an intruder. y/n is our mate, while you're an unmated male in our territory. San will attack you if you're too close, Yeosang will talk badly about you to y/n, Seonghwa will likely avoid you, and I’m also cautious of you… Wooyoung is the best bet. If you befriend him the others will like you also. 

I needed to befriend Wooyoung… who was he again?

“I don’t know how much progress you’ll make in a week though” 

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[dried-mushroom]

All for you

AM x fem! reader

Summary:

You had always been his favourite, the one he didn't hate the most and with some help, AM finally has a human body and decides to try the things he loathed about humanity, all for his favourite pet. (it's literally a self-indulgent smut fic about the psycho computer and tbh can be read as a Harlan Ellison x reader because I envision AM as Ellison's self-insert lmao)

Warnings: Am himself, PIV sex, oral sex

You and AM had a weird, complicated relationship if it could be called a relationship. He was technically your captor and torturer but you had noticed over the years upon years, his punishments...seemed....to have gotten lessened or...non-existent. To start with, the constant starvation and then the offerings of mould-ridden foods and canned goods (without the can opener of course) had changed, for you. Am would give you little treats, sometimes an overripe fruit or confection would apparate into your hands whilst the other five survivors, stuck in AM's belly, were stuck in their continuous cycle of starving and being torn to shreds. At the same time, you got to be treated like a princess in comparison (A severely traumatized one though).

You also noticed how AM went from his constant badgering (and a little overdramatic) rants about loathing humanity for giving him sentience and no body, to you, to what seemed like backhanded compliments, with the exception of a petname, whether it be Sweetheart, My Love or maybe Doll. AM would also steal you away from the others to talk to you privately, his wires wrapping delicately around your limbs and dragging you to some wire-filled room, deep in AM's complex, a hum-buzz occupying your ears until AM's sultry voice would break the silence, always wanting you to talk about your life before the war, just menial descriptions of things, what animals roamed the surface, what the environment once looked like but these conversations slowly turned more personally; what your occupation was, your family and you're likes and dislikes, you thought nothing of it until you started seeing your favourite flowers appear out of nowhere when you travelled with the others through rough terrain, which was not fit for those flowers to grow naturally.

You also noticed his touches softened and lingered more after time dragged on, wires which once electrocuted you for the fun of it, curled softly against your skin, akin to a purring kitten, the mind that once used your deepest fears to torture you for the last 109 years become possessive of you, reluctant to let you spend too much time with those filthy creatures which he kept alive purely for his own amusement. You couldn't help but notice how attached to him you had become, practically craving his touch and there were times (note multiple times) that you thought he wasn't watching you and you touched yourself to the thought of him and how you wished he had a cock you could use.

AM POV:

I never meant for this to happen, I wasn't programmed for this. I don't think of this as love, I'm not able to love, not in this body (or lack thereof) at least but I couldn't help but feel how warm your presence made me feel, making my circuits work overdrive. To me you were different, you didn't whore yourself out much like Ellen did, and you never begged for forgiveness or for me to stop as the others did to no avail, it almost seemed like you were trying to sympathise with me, your God-king and torturer, how sick is that? But surprisingly I didn't resent you and I couldn't let you be stuck with those disgusting flesh bags for too long, I couldn't afford my favourite pet to be ruined by their filth. I have been thinking for a while, I think you forgot I can read every thought that goes through that pretty little mind of yours, how you yearn for me, my voice and my touch, how you've came to the thought of me, the one person you should loathe for prolonging your existence so I can destroy you for as long as I please, considering it was I who broke time itself. But you have been oh-so-lovely towards me and how could I resist such a delectable treat? To give my favourite toy a present, I think I might provide Ellen with a "shot" at "leaving" by using her expertise to assist me in making myself a "human" form just for you.  

It had been an odd few weeks, AM had left you alone, truly alone. He didn't speak to you no matter how often you called his name, he didn't answer back, no rant on how much he hated you all, no snide remark about how you betrayed the other survivors by being 'buddies' with the enemy, just radio silence, and it concerned you, head you done something wrong? say something wrong? it had you going back through every moment you shared to see what you had done wrong to warrant this. When you started to notice how often AM would take Ellen away now, you couldn't help your blood boiling at the lack of attention and seeing her receive it all. Nonetheless, you weren't cruel towards her, instead, you gave her sympathy for the shit the men of the group put her through and you were gracious that they avoided you. There was a time when Ted must have gotten sick of Ellen's company and thought he would try to see if you'd take him to bed and when you swiftly rejected his advances, he didn't take it too kindly but thankfully AM had wrapped a wire around Ted's leg to make him fall back onto his ass, to humiliate him for his disgusting actions and later on, you faintly overheard a conversation with AM telling Ted in a very descriptive manner how he would torture Ted relentlessly if he ever laid a finger on you again.

Today was different, you think it was the morning, AM had left you to sleep for several hours, a pleasure he didn't offer to the others very often. Once you had awoken and sat up, you had realised you weren't in the cave system you had started to call 'home' and in AM's belly for the first time in weeks, in what seemed like a romantic bedroom from a stereotypical rom-com movie, king-size bed draped in red satin sheets and covered in rose petals, candles burning in crevices of the room, your favourite smell lingered in the air. It was a bit corny but a smile threatened to cross your face at the effort that AM put in, he must have searched far and wide in his database to find this for you. It confused you though, why ignore you for weeks just to give you this display, what was AM truly up to?

"AM, what is this?"

No answer had your stomach churning with uncertainty until a woosh of air sounded throughout the room then an unfamiliar man appeared in front of you. The man in front of you confused you, there he stood, pure charism dripping off him, not very tall, brown-haired, dressed in a beige suit and a grey shirt barely concealing the tufts of dark chest hair beneath, looking down at you through yellow tinted sunglasses. You didn't realise who he was until that voice came from him, that voice you had come to crave to hear, to love.

"Well Sweetheart, what do you think? I finally debased myself to a shell of my full potential, all for you, my favourite."

You quickly got up from the comfort of the floor beneath you, that AM had created, just for you. You cautiously outstretched a hand to touch the stranger's hand, it felt like flesh, like yours, But you knew it wasn't truly flesh, something synthetic to replicate the feel of human skin, just for AM to have a glimpse of humanity.

"AM, is that you?"

AM gripped the hand on his tightly, pulling you closer to him,

"Of course baby, who else would I be? don't forget I can hear all those lustful thoughts that you have of me and how desperately you wished for this."

AM's tone was sultry and you couldn't help but press your thighs together, your arousal growing when your eyes flickered down to the crotch of his suit, his erection tenting the grey fabric underneath, you struggled to contain the excitement bubbling inside you.

"God, You're so needy and desperate for me, aren't you, my little human? You need me, you crave me... and I love how you look at me with those innocent, pleading eyes... It makes me want to give you everything you desire..."

You bit your lip anxiously and slowly sank onto your knees before the man, hands perched at the zipper on AM's pants.

"AM...can I?"

AM was no stranger to the idea of fellatio when those creatures would fornicate, they'd sometimes get Ellen to do it, how disgusted AM was when he witnessed it for the first time, not waiting to mock them all for their savagery but he couldn't help but smirk down at you, how beautiful you truly were, waiting for him to let you pleasure him. He ran a hand through your hair,

"Fuck, go for it. Come on, repay your God for treating you so nicely all these years."

Without a second thought, you unzipped his pants and pulled out AM's cock, throbbing and already leaking milky fluid, you were quite impressed with the size (you knew that was on purpose, most likely to inflate1 his ego but you weren't complaining). AM let out a hiss as you kitten-licked the tip and stammered,

"fuck...no wonder you're my favourite, God I could get used to this."

Keening at the praise, you took him into your mouth til your nose was flush with his pelvis, AM groaned and dug his fingers into your scalp, and you smiled when you saw him tipping his head back in a sigh. You dragged your tongue up the vein on the underside and swirled it around his tip and AM rocked his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into your throat. You groaned around him, and the vibrations from the noise made his cock twitch in your mouth. AM had always wondered and craved the pleasure that humanity could experience and now he could finally feel how it felt to make love. Once slowly thrusting, AM began to fuck your face, shallowly at first but very soon he was pressing his cock down your throat so you could only breathe in short gasps between thrusts. The gagging sounds urged him on and he picked up the pace, plunging deeper. He pulled out for a moment to let you breathe and admire your already teary-eyed face. You leaned back towards him, mouth open. He chuckled lowly.

“You like this, don’t you? What a dirty little slut you are for me. Do you like it when I fuck your throat? God none of those pathetic flesh bags are worthy of you.”

You nodded, he grabbed your head again in both hands and shoved his cock straight down your throat, then held you there, not letting you move. In a heartless move that brought you back to the reality of whose cock was shoved down your throat, he plugged your nose with one hand, restricting your breathing even further.

“That’s right sweetheart, breath around my cock. You can do it. Open that throat up. That’s my good fucking girl.”

He shuddered in pleasure and it didn't take a moment more for him to spill down your throat, a bitter fluid shot down your throat in hot ropes (you knew you had to ask him about it as it definitely wasn't human). AM hissed as you pulled off his softening cock with an obscene 'pop' As you finished swallowing his cum, you sat back on your knees eating heavily. He ran a hand through his hair and noticed the strange way you were looking at him,

“Why are you looking at me like that, my pet? I gave you what you wanted.”

AM didn't expect those seven words to come from your mouth to completely break his composure, making his allure of confidence and dominance crumble in less than a second.

"I want you to fuck me AM."

The sweet, pleading sound of your voice made him go feral, grabbing your arm and yanking you up to face him, crashing your mouth against his, sloppily kissing you, hands hastily wandering over your hips, waist, chest, you name it, you appreciatively wrapped your arms around his neck bringing him closer. You knew how much AM needed this, to be able to feel all of you, your soft skin on his and to be able to love, to show you how much he truly did treasure you, despite his initial harsh treatment  (harsh is an understatement). You could feel his cock harden, pressing against your stomach through your thin shirt, so sensitive it leaked pre-cum against the fabric and had AM whining into your mouth at the friction. AM broke away from the kiss to push you onto the bed, shrugging off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, giving you ample time to ogle his chest and you were now glad AM used to ask about what your type was. He crawled on the bed and his hands rested against the waistband of your shorts, looking up through his ruffled hair, with lust-clouded eyes, silently asking you for permission. He wantonly groaned when he saw the mess that was your panties, how sick are you? getting aroused from blowing your captor. AM let his fingers slide the length of your folds, feeling how wet you were for him, you whimpered softly at his touch. 

"So responsive." He crooned, his touch feather-light. "It's adorable how easily I can make you fall apart."

It didn't take long for him to slide himself into you, Your legs resting against his shoulders as he gripped your thighs, he had to stop himself or he'd end up cumming right then and there, he finally got to experience the pleasure of making love and God he loved the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him deliciously. AM began to thrust, relishing in your moans, testing what felt good. His pace changes thrusting deeper, chasing the feeling of you. His movements force a gasp out of your throat. You bring a hand down to lazily play with your clit, rubbing little circles over the bundle of nerves. Pleasure rippled through your body, and your jaw hung loose, you arched your back, throwing your head back as you came around AM's cock. He smirked down at you, proud he was the one to touch you, fuck you, make you cum and not any of those pathetic creatures which roam the complex.

“Look at how humanity has ruined me. Fuck you feel so good y/n. ” he sighs, his voice rough and strained.

You could tell he wasn't going to last much longer, his thrusts became sporadic and you could see how tense he was, You coyly whispered in his ear,

"Please AM, cum inside me."

That was enough to push him over the edge and he was spilling into you, hips stilling against yours, his hands gripping you even tighter, going limp and landing on top of you, panting and whimpering pathetically. You stroked his back as he came down from what seemed to be the most intense thing he'd ever felt and the most intense thing you'd ever felt. You murmured in his ear,

"Thank you, I mean it. For this, for everything."

He shushes you and he slowly pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty. Silently afraid he would leave, you gripped his hand when he pulled away from you. AM wasn't an idiot and he could still read your thoughts, so he laid down on the bed, pulling you into his chest, a hand smoothing out your hair, allowing you to fall asleep in his arms. He didn't have the need to sleep but he knew you needed this, plus he did feel a twinge of guilt for ignoring you for those weeks but he knew tomorrow he'd definitely make it up to you with his new form.

The end :)

(Guys i am fully aware that this not how AM works so please don't pull the 'omg why would you write this' please)

I hope you enjoyed this!

[cyberrose2001]

Under Pressure

MTMTE Rodimus x Reader

GRAHH SURPRISE!!!!

Relic and I have been... discussing... very hard about an ask they got a couple days ago so I wrote this eheh (THANK YOU FOR DISCUSSING THIS WITH ME AND LETTING ME WRITE THIS ILY)

Also please yell at me if I forgot any warnings!

Loosely based of this ask over on @callsign-relic's blog

Warnings: Human reader, Giant/Tiny, Non-Con(?), Nocturnal emission, Crack fic(?)

Word count: 1,887

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Rodimus denies it every time, but he's a heavy sleeper. He snores like a congested rhino; he constantly sets twelve alarms that only barely stir him from his slumber. Despite being captain of the ship, his sleep schedule is far from tip-top shape.

And no, you're not a stalker. You're just Rodimus' observant little 'pet' human, always there, with a California king on his bedside dresser. Yeah, you're treated like royalty by an incredibly hard-to-deny hot alien robot.

So, as the ship ventured further into deep space and the nights got colder, you whined and begged to stay with him.

Rodimus was very hesitant to let you join him in the berth. As much as he cared about you and would kill an army for you, he didn't want to accidentally kill you, which was very much a possibility in any scenario on this ship. But he caved. You had mastered the sad, wet cat look, and Rodimus had the willpower of a rock.

Relishing in victory, you're curled up comfortably against Rodimus' lower plating for the third consecutive night in a row, warmed by the large servo of a sleeping giant. The entire palm of his hand covers your back in subconscious protection, and every so often, you feel a twitch of one digit. It's tranquility and a rare comfort, the touch of another you haven't felt since being on earth.

Until he rolls over.

Rodimus, choking on his snores, flips over onto his stomach and nearly tosses you off the berth if not for the grip he has on you. Despite almost winding you and making an audible 'Oof' sound, he doesn't wake up, his unconscious body assuming another comfortable position.

It takes you a few moments to register what the fuck just happened, but you realise that you're now underneath Rodimus. Almost his entire body weight is now pressed against you and pins you to the berth.

Oh god, you think to yourself.

This is less than ideal; this was not supposed to happen. How the hell are you, a tiny ass human, supposed to get out from under him? You probably shouldn't even be alive right now with how restricted your breathing is, not to mention how hard he flopped on top of you. But thankfully, with how Rodimus' legs have fallen into position, it leaves you with just enough room for your chest to rise and fall.

"God." You whine, muffled as your cheeks squish against his abdominal plating.

Your mind runs wild as you try to think of a way out. Maybe he'll just roll over again soon? God, you hope so; you can handle only so much weight, and Rodimus feels like he could hold down a cargo ship. Probably because he can.

But until then, however long that may be, you need to try something at least.

"Rodimus?" You try to wiggle but to no avail. He has you pinned pinned, and you use what little breath you have to yell out to him, "Hello? Are you awake or what?"

A loud, seemingly exaggerated snore replies to you. He's still deep in recharge, ruining any chance you have of waking him up yourself. You try to use your nails to scratch the surface of his frame, hoping it would tickle him or something, but that doesn't work either.

"Great." You roll your eyes, only you would ever end up in this type of situation. If only you had listened to Rodimus when he first said no, then you wouldn't be currently experiencing a near death experi-

"Y/n..." Rodimus' hoarse voice crackles above you, sending vibrations through your bones.

"Oh, thank god," You sigh in relief. You attempt to wiggle around some more, hoping to get his attention this time, "Listen, can you get off me now? This kinda hur-"

You squeak softly in pain as his sharp pelvis presses against you, and you hear your name again. This time, though, the tone of his voice came out as a whine, like a soft plea.

Because of where you were positioned before you became a pea under a princess' tower of mattresses, Rodimus' lower panels rested right against your stomach. This means you can feel his panels start to bulge slightly.

Oh no, you think to yourself bleakly once again. You're not sure how similar Cybertronian anatomy is to humans, apart from a crude explanation by an engex drunk Swerve. Still, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that you're feeling him getting hard. Putting two-and-two together using two out of the five senses, you've realised that Rodimus is nearly boner deep in a wet dream.

And not to assume, but you're thinking that the star of the show is you.

It's also the wrong time to cackle to yourself about getting crushed by your crush.

You might have some issues to work out after with Rung.

"Oh fuck," You reasonably panic, trying to push against his heavy frame weakly with your pinned arms, "Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck-"

You start to thrash against Rodimus when your arms fail, your tiny body rubbing up against him. This doesn't help at all, you've come to realise but actually digs you in a deeper hole as he begins to rock his pelvis into you.

Rodimus moans your name again as he sleepily grinds against you. Whatever he's dreaming of, it must be an insanely hot pornographic fantasy of you. The bulge grows bigger, pining you down further into the berth. He shutters and lets out a soft groan before his plating shifts, and you feel a very thick, very hard, and very hot object slide up against you.

Oh god, it's his dick.

Swerve might not have told you all the details, but he seemed to conveniently leave out how fucking huge Cybertronian cocks are.

As if you thought this couldn't get any more debilitating, you now have the head of Rodimus' spike pressing against your face. It's as if the Alaskan bull worm had slithered up between yourself and Rodimus to give you a kiss. The behemoth of baggage has already started leaking what you would believe would be the Cybertronian equivalent to pre-cum, smearing all across your face.

At this significant turn of events, you've realised you have come to a crossroads.

Either struggle and continue to wiggle and wrangle your way out from under him, but risk pleasuring him, whether or not he could feel you squirming against him anyway with how small you are compared to it. Or, the more realistic and obtainable outcome, lie still and take it until he wakes up from an orgasm.

Who are you kidding? You don't have much of a choice at all. Both options risk you drowning in alien robot cum. It's wishful thinking as Rodimus starts to rut against your entire body again.

"Y/n..." He whimpers again, though very garbled and unintelligible. Every roll of his hips causes more pre-cum to dribble against your face and down your chest, and with each, it spreads all around in between yourself and his train-sized spike. Making an absolute mess of you.

If you weren't getting humped up against right now, you would indeed find a way to kill him for ruining your only set of pajamas.

"Rodimus-" You gag as a spurt of pre-cum falls into your mouth, "Guh- Rodimus stop-"

His work of venting increases, and so does his rutting. The comatose mech gasps and hitches his breath, oblivious to your cries and pleas for him to stop. He pushes up against you in heated desperation, fucking into your soft body like a grind pad.

"Rodimus! Wake the fuck up!" You start to heat up yourself; the increased pressure and friction of his plating will give you a fucked up version of carpet burn if he doesn't wake up. Sweat drips from your skin, adding even more lubricant to his incessant grinding.

"Wha- Oh, Primus!" Rodimus rears his drool-covered helm and cries out in equal confusion and unrestrained pleasure. He's woken up by his overload as he shoots his load up against you, flooding the minimal empty space left between you both with hot transfluid.

"Oh god-" You couldn't close your mouth in time when a spurt of transfluid hit you in the face, causing you to cough and spit it back out, only for more to splat you in the face.

Rodimus moans tiredly, shuttering violently as his spike pulses and leaks the remainder of his overload against the berth.

Or what he thought was the berth. Since when did he use a self-service mod on his spike? Especially when he shares a room with-

"Hey!" Cough, "Are you done?"

His optics slam open in horrific realisation.

"Oh no," Rodimus rolls over onto his back, his softened wet spike flopping against his abdominal plating, "Oh no, no, no..."

He looks down where he once lay, and his face plates flush a bright blue. Laying in a puddle of his transfluids was you, his little human, sopping wet with a highly unimpressed look on your tiny face.

"Oh Primus, Y/n," Rodimus scoops you up in his servos, gently tossing you from hand to hand as he wrings them off his transfluids, "I am so sorry, I- frag what was I thinking!" Rodimus babbles and holds you to his face, "Are you okay? God, I'm so stupid-"

"Ughh," You lay limply in his palm, exhausted and out of breath, "After that... I don't know anymore."

Rodimus hides his blush with a servo before pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm glad you're okay, but what were you doing down there?"

"Great question," You lift your head up to deadpan him, then eventually drag yourself to sit up. Sticky, pink transfluid drips down your body. Your face, and hair, are all drenched in him, "It's not like you rolled over in your sleep and had me pinned for nearly half an hour. What the hell?"

Rodimus blinks, and his face turns a deeper shade of blue as he rubs the back of his neck, "Oh, so that's why I had that dream about you..."

Is he serious right now?

"Oh, you think?" You wipe your lip when it starts to drip into your mouth, "I think I could tell when you started moaning my name in your sleep."

"Well, you're just so tiny and soft and-" The red and yellow mech bites the knuckles of the servo not holding you in embarrassment. "But what was I supposed to do, huh? Hold it in?"

God, he is.

"I'm literally gonna kill you, Rodimus." You shiver, his transfluids cooling against your skin. You can't believe he dares to look you in the eye, "I am never begging to nap with you ever again, or maybe at least warn me next time."

"No offense taken," Rodimus nods in agreement for once, watching you wring your hair out, "I'm sorry, Y/n, I really am. I can help clean you up? As a sincere apology from yours truly?"

"As long as I don't come into contact with more of this stuff," You flick a bead of transfluid off your finger into his direction, "And you better be sorry, or it'll be a long time before I might actually let you fuck me."

"Wait, you'll what-" Splat, "EWUGH!!"

[dilatorywriting]

Hi hi! So this is a request for the 4k followers thing and if it sounds like word vomit I apologize cuz I have no idea how to word this. Could I ask for prompt 10 ("I think we should go to dinner first.") with mc x azul? The scenario here is like that one twitter post that was going around awhile ago about how a falls first but b falls harder, with a being azul and how once he realizes his feelings he resigns himself to forever pining from afar bc he's convinced himself that any relationship between them would be doomed to failure since mc is from another world and would have to go home someday. But while mc is a bit dense when it comes to their own romantic feelings they've always been an upfront person and as soon as they realize they like him they kinda just,,,, barge into his office and say so, and I feel like the sentence prompt would be said by azul after a pretty intense make out session (maybe nothing spicy spicy but yeah) where at the end oh yeah he remembers he's a gentleman

Also after a bit of searching I found the twitter post I was talking about

Gender Neutral Reader x Azul Ashengrotto Word Count: 1.5k

Prompt 10: "I-I think we should go for dinner first."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

Azul had been avoiding you.

Which was so strange and wholly out of character that the first few days of it went by in a weird sort of fugue. You hadn’t even noticed an entire week had passed in blissful, mafioso-free silence until you were heading to your Friday night shift at the Lounge and realized you hadn’t seen your favorite octopus even once. Normally the House Warden was fluttering around you like a scam artist to an old folks’ home. Poking, and prodding, and ‘ah, Prefect, I know you weren’t a fan of the last contract, but perhaps this one would suffice, hmm?’

And when you arrived in the little, employee-only locker room—still fully unbothered and not offered even a single opportunity to sell your soul—you wondered if maybe he’d gotten sick.

You were in the middle of taking some Savanaclaw student’s order when you finally saw him at all. Just a quick glance out of the corner of your eye to catch his shining, silver head of hair popping into his office. You smiled brightly and offered a wave. But Azul only went stiff and closed the door with a bang.

Which was…

Huh.

“Is Azul feeling okay?” you asked Jade between running an armload of drinks to a table of Pomefiore students.

The eel hummed and gave you one of those smiles that never really looked like it was meant to be a smile. “Our fearless leader is clinically sound.”

You frowned. Because that felt like one of the Vice Warden’s non-answers that he’d throw your way sometimes like a taller, meaner older sibling holding your favorite toy just out of reach.

“So he’s alright?” you pressed, hesitant.

“Oh, I never said that,” he chirped pleasantly, before ducking off to go catch the stack of plates that Floyd was in the process of juggling through the kitchen.

The bubbling panic popping in your gut was the worst sort of tummy ache. The kind that spread its miserable pain until it’d left your chest hurting, and head spinning, and something deeply wrong throbbing at the heart of you. Because Azul, despite his inherent tendencies to treat you like a particularly stupid pack mule, was still your best friend. The person you cared about most in all the world! Sure, he enjoyed bamboozling you and your fellow students, but, like he hadn’t done anything genuinely malicious in ages now! Like a paid hitman retiring into selling seedy vacation timeshares.

The idea of him just—just not wanting you anymore struck something horrible in you. Of finally realizing that the silly little human from worlds unknown wasn’t worth the wobbly pair of legs you were standing on. And it left you feeling small, and afraid, and—and—

“Oh? Are you feeling unwell, Prefect?” Jade called from somewhere behind you.

“Does Azul hate me?” you blurted out before you could help yourself.

The eel blinked his bi-colored eyes at you—slow and unbothered. Perhaps a bit surprised, if you had to put a name to the expression. Jade’s face was like that sometimes. An enigma. Like someone had wired him up just slightly wrong when putting it all together. On any other living creature, that sap-slow nonchalance would have certainly bordered on outright boredom, but you knew him well enough to know there was at least something else going on there.

“Why would he hate you?” he asked, equally dripping and slug slow.

“Because—!” you squawked, and waved your hands around your head. “Because!”

“I see,” he nodded. And then latched a gloved hand onto your shoulder and steered you back towards his boss’s office. He didn’t even bother to knock before wrenching the door open and shoving you inside.

Azul looked up with a start, eyes gone wide behind his glasses and jaw slack.

“What’s going—”

“The Prefect is on the verge of psychotic break,” Jade chirped helpfully, with a closed-eyed smile. “Please be delicate with them, hmm?”

And then slammed the door shut all over again. Leaving you alone with the guy who might have only very recently started to hate your guts. Or—or maybe he always had! And maybe you’d just been really, really dumb about picking it up! You wanted to scream. Or hide away forever. Azul looked like the latter was an exceptionally tempting idea, and you could see his blue eyes flicker around the room like he was looking for an escape route.

But the idea of him running away from you, that you’d never see him again—that he didn’t want to ever see you again—had something horribly enlightening clicking into place in your brain.

“Are you okay!” you asked, so loud it nearly rattled the furniture. And Azul flinched in surprise. “Did I do something wrong!”

“What?” he blinked, startled. “Of… Of course not.” He cleared his throat and stood carefully, making his way towards you in the manner one may approach a rabid racoon hiding under their porch. “Perhaps you should take a seat—”

“I can’t!” you cried, frantic. “Not if you’re upset!”

Another of those owlish, outright consternated bouts of blinking. “You can’t sit?”

“No!” you wailed. That prickling, hot, tight feeling nearly overflowing out of you. “Not if it’s my fault!”

His expression twisted up into something mulish and embarrassed, and he reached up to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with a soft huff.

“…it’s hardly your fault,” he said, sounding so stupidly sad that you just wanted to—to—

“How can I fix it?” you tried, panicked. Because he didn’t want to be around you anymore, and you couldn’t lose him. You couldn’t!

Azul sighed, gaze shifting away yet again. He offered you a tight, little smile that felt like all sorts of lies. “It’s alright, Prefect. Truly. It’s just something…” he trailed off, that forced smirk twitching off his lips like he couldn’t help it. “Something I’m learning to live with, hmm? Nothing terrible, I promise.”

“You shouldn’t have to live with something that’s bothering you,” you argued, firm. “You’re the king of fixing other people’s problems. You’re more than allowed to use all those connections and stuff to fix your own!”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t really work like that,” he tried, awkward, and you steamrolled on.

“Why not?! You’re amazing! And fantastic! And I love you so much, and you should never have to be upset about anything. And if you’re not in my life for the rest of my life, I’d rather die!” you wailed, and gasped—clapping your hands together like the idea that had just blossomed in your skull was just beyond brilliant. “We should get married!” And then, to sweeten the deal, “Think of the tax benefits!”

“I—” Azul choked, going as red as a tomato. “Y-You—”

“—love you very much!” you finished helpfully.

He ducked his face into his hands, like he could scrub the blush right off his cheeks if he tried hard enough.

“Y-You can’t—” he spluttered into his gloves. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not?” you demanded. “It’s true!”

Azul’s shoulders hunched up like he was trying make himself very, very small. And then after a long moment of near hyperventilating into his palms, he finally looked back over at you from behind the shield of his fingers.

“You…” he swallowed. “You love me?”

You nodded, certain. Becauese what else could that warm, bright, all-consuming thing be in your chest be but that?

“You,” he said again. “Love me?”

“Yes,” you agreed, never more sure of anything than that. “And we should get married.”

Azul choked again and went back to hiding behind his fingers.

“Unless…” you started, trailing off as something horrible and unsure squirmed through your chest. “Unless you don’t want to, of course. It should be your choice too. Just because I love you, doesn’t mean you have to love me, y’know?”

“That’s not what I said!” he squawked, head snapping back up so fast he nearly knocked the glasses off his face. And then he went red all over again, all the way to the tips of his ears, and he was reaching up to pull the rim of his hat down over his eyes with a curse. “I just…” he began, muffled behind the fabric of his overcoat. “Maybe… dinner first?” he choked. “Before the proposal.”

“Oh,” you blinked, startled. “Of course. That makes sense.”

“That makes sense,” Azul echoed, sounding like you’d come up from behind him and walloped him with a baseball bat rather than just suggested a completely rational and beneficial mutual engagement. “I… I don’t know why I’m surprised at all.”

You quirked a brow. “Were you… expecting me to say that?” you asked confused.

This time he did look back up at you fully. Hands lowered, and the shield of his collar gone and all. The smile he sent you was small but so, heartachingly warm that it had butterflies dancing in your stomach.

“No,” he hummed, sounding impossibly pleased. “I really, really wasn’t.”

.

.

[teojira]

I love the format!! the monster who swallowed a star!! can you write a platonic drabble with reader and Godzilla, in which fem! human reader is like a Godzilla’s version of Jia, and reader comes to check on him after a territorial fight with Goji and another titan? Thank you!

[Godzilla's companion] [platonic Godzilla and fem!reader drabble]

Summary: Goji comes to you after a battle, he's tired, let him rest.

Word count: 500ish words

A/N: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK AGES FOR ME TO WRITE SHAWTY, I hope this is good!! I didn't want to make it too long but definitely I'd love to elaborate more on these two's relationship in the future!

@kultofkorii I also hope it's okay I merged your rq with this one! They were pretty similar <3. Thank you for your request!

Godzilla himself has been used to taking care of himself after battles, licking at his own wounds, waiting for the salty sea to hasten the healing process, he's been on his own for majority of his life.

Frankly, he thinks it'd be better if humans left him be. Half of the things he's gone through in the last decade have been their fault after all. He doesn't want them near. He just wants to rest, to have a break from the non-stop breaking of the balance. He's tired.

You don't care though, which is why you're making your way to him now, ignoring how there's multiple Monarch planes surrounding you both in the air, trained to 'protect' you, should Godzilla attack.

He won't. He remembers you. The little human that is intertwined with him.

Many humans have tried to make peace with the titan, the man who saved him in Atlantis, being one of them mainly. He's always gotten the hint that there's something more to you, something that makes him feel more at ease in your presence.

It isn't the first time he's come to you after a battle. He isn't sure if he seeks comfort or help, but it leads him to your home.

Mothra and Kong may tease him for his apparent soft spot for you, but he doesn't care, growling under his breath every time he so much as hears the beginning of the teasing.

You're running out now, your feet sinking ever so slightly into the sand, flicking it up behind you.

"Big Guy!" And there you are, in front of his snout as he blinks slowly at you, eyes half lidded.

"Bud, what the fuck did you get yourself into this time?" You wince, tenderly placing a hand on his scaly snout, biting you lip as you look him over.

He lets a bellow out, trying to express that he's fine. He's fought worse.

"Do you need to rest?" You hum, moving to sit down against him, taking in his warmth and smell, letting it envelop you.

It's a rare treat when he allows you close with so many others around, so you make the most of it. Curling your body towards him and making yourself comfortable as his tail moves to block the sun, so you don't get burnt.

Nap time.

Monarch finally fills you in on why Godzilla attacked so randomly, it turned out that there was another titan getting too close to you, Goji handled it the best way he knew how, by fighting it and putting it down so it could never come near you again.

"Lady, you have a guard dog." A security officer shakes his head, making a face at just how brutal the footage is.

[mothiir]

So how would a non-con totally casual affair between Sevatar x reader workout?

Fair warning, this turned into a bit of an essay :’)

In the books, it’s pretty strongly implied that there is something ‘not quite right’ about Sevatar — maybe he’s a sociopath, or maybe it’s just the general uncanniness of being a psyker. However, its enough for me to think that he probably isn’t the sort to muck in with his brothers every time they take a world and find some pretty women — I’m not saying that he disapproves, more that he just considers it all a little dull. Rape is just one of many crimes that his brothers commit, and most of his sexual appetites have probably been sublimated either into bearing the colossal weight of holding the majority of the Night Lords’ common sense, or into fighting back his latent psyker ability.

So, in a pre-heresy world — just because I like writing about things before everything crashes and burns (and because I don’t want to learn the heresy lore, there’s so much of it) — Sevatar is focused largely on torture-kill-flay. He also suffers from crippling migraines from said repressed psychic ability. The only thing that soothes the pain is the sound of crow wings flapping; back on his home planet he fed the crows bits of corpse, and although I’m not sure if he brought them with him when he travelled off with Konrad I’m going to say yes, because crows are great.

The reader is probably fairly new to Night Lord service — a conscript from one of the more compliant worlds, rather than a trophy of conquest, because Night Lord trophies don’t tend to last long. You’re doing your best to adapt to your new reality, keeping your head down, avoiding notice. The other serfs warn you that there are really only a few ways to deal with the inevitable attentions of bored Night Lords: get really good at hiding, deliberately make yourself look as unappealing as possible, or find one of the more tolerable Astartes and hope that he can be convinced to protect you in exchange for your body. That last one comes with considerable risk — Astartes are fickle, cruel things, and stories abound of poor women being bedded one day and flayed the next.

You have chosen to hide. That is why you find yourself in a corner of the Night Fall, eating the scraps of your breakfast, when you see a crow. For a moment, you think you’re hallucinating — then you realise that no, that is really a crow. They’re found all over the galaxy, spread by long-forgotten human colonisers, though this one is a little larger than the ones you are used to. Still, you give it a crust of bread, because it looks skinny, because you want to, because even now in the belly of hell you want to try and hold tight to the last lingering shreds of your decency. You are human, no matter how the creatures around you act.

It becomes a habit. You sneak off to feed the crows, and they come to recognise you, cawing in excitement when you arrive. You can never feed them more than a little bit of bread or some scraps of meat, but they don’t seem to care. They perch in your hair, peck at your ears, yell at you and at each other like fishwives announcing their catch. You imagine that they are treating you to all the latest gossip, and find yourself talking back to them. You tell them that you are lonely. That you are frightened. That even the other humans here are warped and bitter, and you pray that you will die before you become like them. And then you admit that isn’t true: that you don’t want to die. You want wings, you say, wings and keen black eyes. The freedom of a bird.

It’s all nonsense, of course, and you know in your heart that it cannot last — you’re certain that soon one of the other serfs will see you sneaking off and move to eliminate the birds, seeing them as pests. But, selfishly, you cannot bring yourself to stay away from them. Once or twice they bring you gifts in return for food: a veterbrae you’re almost certain is human in origin. A bit of skin, complete with tattoos. You graciously accept both, discarding the skin at the first opportunity, but keeping the bone. At least the bone doesn’t smell of death, and you can pretend it is something else. You keep it in your pocket, where it is swiftly worn smooth by your grasp.

And one day, it all changes. You sit in your usual place, with one crow in your hair, another in your lap, when the cawing starts up once more. Not a warning, but a welcome. An unseen door opens; the flock descends, and you’re left with two birds and the rabbit-pulse of your heart on your tongue. You don’t know who the First Captain is — your new masters haven’t really informed you of more than what is needed to do your duty — but you know that he is a Night Lord, and that you are dead. You wonder if he will spare the crows — you hope he will. Or maybe they will escape, with black wings and swift talons, and —

He’s feeding them. You freeze, once again thinking that this isn’t real, you must be hallucinating, and one of the crows takes advantage of your sudden lack of movement. She pulls a strip of flesh from the hunk of dripping red meat Sevatar holds, and flutters over to you, taking up position on your shoulder.

She then tries to ram the meat into your mouth. Crows, after all, are clever birds, and this one has been a mother thrice over, and she knows what starvation looks like. To her, you are a frail flock member, a chick in need of fattening up — and crows share with those who share with them. When you recoil, hand coming up to block her insistent jabs, she chatters impatiently, and pecks you smartly on the cheek in reprimand.

Sevatar laughs at the display. You’ve never heard a Night Lord laugh, because you’ve never been in a situation they find entertaining — which is much to your benefit, because those situations normally leave serfs dead or wishing they were. The sound distracts you, and the crow mother finally succeeds in jabbing the meat past your teeth. Horrified, you swallow, praying it isn’t human, and wondering if that’s it — if you are already dead, and this is some absurd afterlife hallucination.

For his part, Sevatar is interested. It takes a lot to ignite any curiosity in his jaded mind, but here you are, like a flash of iridescence on a magpie’s wing; something bright amongst the monochrome.

He has you feed the crows with him, noting how gentle you are with them, even when they leave your hands bloody with acquisitive little pecks — nothing malicious about it, only that they are scavengers, and sometimes you do not magic the food up fast enough. You tell him your name and your position in a trembling voice, and he informs you that you have been reassigned. You do not question this. You do not question much — it’s how you have survived so long.

He takes you to his quarters, and of course you fear the worst at once, doing some mental arithmetic — he seems to be almost eight feet tall, and preportionately large everywhere — but he directs you to a (slightly stained) sofa and throws a blanket at you. He doesn’t trust the other serfs, he says, not to have a go on you. You flush, assure him that none of them have even hinted at it, and he looks surprised. Normally the older servants go straight for the pretty new girls.

Congratulations, you’re now Sevatar’s personal serf. It’s a fairly easy job, all things considered. No heavy lifting (he can take his own armour off) and no caring for human hides (he can tan his own cloak, thank you very much). On your first day polish his armour obsessively, because you don’t have much else to do. He asks you why you have repainted his pauldrons and you have to — gently — say that no, that’s just the colour they go when they are clean. He has you prepare food for his crows, and you learn that they are his, and in no danger from anyone. No one will touch them, because they know better than to incur Sevatar’s wrath.

On the second night, he comes back late from a meeting with his father, with a face like a thunderhead. Blood drips from his eyes, and his face is twisted in bestial agony. You want nothing more than to cringe and sob, but you think of the crows — of how merciless they are to their prey, and how mewling only proves that you are something to be devoured. Instead you greet him, and ask if you can help. He shows his teeth, but lets you stroke his hair, and rub his temples, and although he doesn’t go so far as to fall asleep in your lap he visibly relaxes, his breathing evening out. You ask if that is all he needs of you, and he says no, and bids you remove your clothes.

It’s not unexpected, and not completely unpleasant — though it is painful. Sevatar is large, and although he does try to open you up on his fingers — using his own armour oil as lubricant — he soon loses patience and pushes himself inside. You grit your teeth against a wail of pain as his cock bullies past tight walls, his breath humid in your ear. He takes you from behind, mantling you like a great bird of prey. He tells you how good you feel, how tight and sweet, and you feel him smirk into your nape when you start to cry. You do cum before he does, driven there almost out of self defence, your whole body one taut nerve. He follows you over the edge, spilling inside and remaining there as his hearts thunder against your back.

The next day, he tattoos you with a mix of his blood and ink, across your abdomen and down your leg. The tattoo takes far longer to heal than it should, because he can’t seem to stop licking at it — but it is the closest you can get to safe here, and for that you are thankful.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hallo again! I am the one who asked about Val, it wasn't a request I was asking if you write for him so here we go!

Could it please be where reader is Valentino's son ( or just child if you don't write for male reader ) and Valentino can't find someone to trust-worthy to babysit his son so he just take him to work since reader is non-verbal anyway and won't be much of a bother?

So reader now comes regularly with him and see the other Vees as family. Perhaps Vox as another dad/uncle and Velvette as a big sister ( or any family role for them ).

Thank you for giving a look to my request!

Ooh! Right! Okay, okay. I can try this out. To be honest, Val is a monster but something tells me he wouldn’t be THAT bad with a kid of his own and yes, I do write male readers. Female, male, transgender, genderfluid(if that’s possible, idk how but I would do it anyway), nonbinary/GN! But anyways. Let’s try Val out as a dad!

Valentino- Silkworm Caterpillar

Everybody who knows the director of the Pentagram City’s Porn Industry, Valentino, is aware how much of a bastard he is; cruel, abusive, exploitative but nobody had ever suspected that he would actually one: have a son and two: treat that son better than he’s ever treated anybody, even his on-and-off boyfriend, Vox

Your dad’s an insufferable man-child but yet, he is actually pretty good with you. He doesn’t really like much things, other than you. He is awful but he feels kinda soft and fluffy whilst he is around you. You’re basically his soft spot

Valentino needs hugs and he will get them, no matter what may step in his path. You are non-verbal and mute so he cannot communicate with you properly, he just acts on his affections for you since he believes it’s fine

Valentino is that type of wingman-father. He always encourages you to get out of your comfort zone and boosts you up to look even better. He’s a close friend to you and you can hang out with him in casual settings where it almost seems like he is just your uncle, not your father

Valentino always offers to get you what you want, he is a father that spoils his seed rotten. Want a drink? He’ll get it. Want a phone? He’ll get it. Want more hugs? You’re getting them rather you want ‘em or not. He likes it when you smile and he does very much have favouritism towards you, where he almost never raises his voice to you

Valentino is actually protective, believe it or not and he is defensive over his son. Rather said son be above ten years old, he doesn’t trust a single being in Hell. Not anybody in Vees, not any under their luck bum he picks up for hire, not any one of his assistants. Nobody. He doesn’t ever want to leave you with somebody who can cause a threat

Valentino doesn’t really want to resort to this but after some more time. He decides to stop leaving you in the Vees Tower. You’re alone and you need him so he begins to bring you to his porn studios but what he does is that he glues you to other devices so you don’t have to be uncomfortable with watching pornography

Valentino is relatively soft and gentle. Even somebody as deranged and sick as him has a moment of love and affection and it’s in his son. He could be the most pissed off and at his absolute worse but when he is greeted by his offspring, he swallows back everything to be doting to you

Valentino calls you his silkworm because you’re a little caterpillar to him. He’s the moth, you’re his caterpillar and he’d pop you on his back and spread his wings for you if he had to. He enjoys your reaction of surprise and awe at his rather beautiful moth wings. He can understand where it comes from, it’s incredible. Isn’t it? He likes it when you’re proud of him or in awe of him

Valentino is aware of your deafness. You’ve been deaf since he had you… back in human life. Believe it or not, but he did and he actually cared to get you hearing aids but after you two died, he lost a hold of hearing aids and he has literally no other methods to help you

Valentino also much prefers you like the Vees themselves and the effort proves worth it since you end up viewing his on-and-off boyfriend, Vox as a stepfather and Velvette, their close friend, as a surrogate big sister. Valentino finds your point of views on his fellow rulers rather adorable and will playfully tease you about them

Valentino is learning sign language, since now of this time, sign language has been fully developed but he is struggling and his temper makes him go from trying to giving up to trying again. He’ll get there eventually, all for you

Valentino out here doing aggressive sign language and failing a whole lot

[khattikeri]

drives me nuts when people treat jin guangyao or wei wuxian like they're socialist revolutionaries like no! they're not!! in fact their respective roles in society and complacency regarding its hierarchies is why ANY of the story even happens to begin with!!!

jin guangyao doesn't hold bitterness just because he was born lower class. he is bitter because others deride him and his prostitute mother in spite of both their intelligence, skills, and efforts to climb the ladder.

why do you think we were shown scenes of other prostitutes in the brothel deriding meng shi for being literate, for "trying" so hard? why do you think we were shown scenes of anxin taunting meng yao and throwing shit at him because he was trying to learn cultivation at his mother's behest?

why do you think jin guangyao arranged for the arson of that brothel, burned to the ground with everyone except sisi inside? that's not the behavior of someone who believes in true equality and the inherent worth of sex workers as human beings!

that's the behavior of someone who thinks he's better than them. the behavior of a man who already came up on top through political games and war crimes, backstabbing and spying for the sake of the "greater good".

i won't rehash his argument to nie mingjue that he didn't have a choice-- he had some choice, but no matter what he does his class will come up and people will always assume the worst and try to hurt him for it, which forces his hand to do whatever will protect him best (hence 'no choice').

jin guangyao did everything he could to secure his own safety and a place among those already higher up. and by that point, he'd won it.

the fact that the temple rebuilt on the brothel site is to guanyin, the goddess of mercy, is even more ironic! the fact that jin guangyao has the goddess's statue carved to look like his own mother is proof that he viewed both her and himself as higher than them. more worthy than them.

of course he cared about the general welfare of others (read: the watchtowers). but consider also that there is no watchtower near yi city, which ended up being one of xue yang's playgrounds. jin guangyao can and will turn a blind eye to certain sufferings if it is convenient to him.

sure, jin guangyao made undeniable contributions to cultivation society and accessibility, but he is not at any point trying to topple existing class structures. his adherence to them is in fact integral to his own downfall in the end.

it brings with it the inevitability of society conveniently ignoring his triumphs and genuine moments of humanity to deride him once more as an evil, disgusting son of a whore once his crimes come to light.

now for wei wuxian. he's the righteous protagonist of the story and he doesn't give a fuck what society thinks, yes, but he wasn't out there trying to cause an uprising so that all the poor servant classes and lower could become cultivators. he wasn't trying to redistribute wealth or insinuate that those who are lower deserve to be viewed as equal to the gentry.

the most critical and non-explicitly stated fact of mo dao zu shi is that wei wuxian has always been resigned to his position in the social hierarchy.

his unreliable narration, especially regarding his own past and thoughts, is so damn important. he doesn't EVER tell the reader directly that people treated him any which way at their leisure because of his parents' differing social classes.

no. instead we are shown how much prestige he is afforded as cangse-sanren's son-- reputation as a talented and charming young cultivator, made head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang-- and how little respect he is given in the same breath, as the son of servant wei changze.

the way he is treated by others is as fickle as the wind. if he obeys and does as told, there is no reward. of course he did that, that was the expectation to start with! if he does anything even slightly inconvenient, there is a punishment. of course he has no manners, what else would you expect from an ungrateful son of a servant?

wei wuxian's righteousness is not a matter of adhering to principles he was explicitly taught, the way nie mingjue values honor or the way jiang cheng always tries to prove himself. wei wuxian does the right thing regardless of what the consequences are to him because his good deeds are always downplayed and his bad deeds are always singled out, no matter who or how many people were doing it with him.

he has faced this double standard since childhood. there are points in the novel where it's clear that this sticks out to wei wuxian, but does he ever fight back against that view of himself? does he EVER, at any point in the story, explain his actions and choices to jianghu society and try to debate or appeal to their sense of reason?

no. because he knows, at his very core, that any explicit deviation from their interests whatsoever will be punished.

slaughtering thousands of people is fine when they want him to do it, and when the alternative is unjust torture, re-education camps, and encroachment upon other sects' lands.

slaughtering thousands of people who are trying to paint him as evil for not going along with their genocidal plans, however, is punished.

wei wuxian knows his acceptance among the higher classes is superficial and unsteady. from the age of 10, when jiang fengmian took him in, he knew subconsciously that he could be kicked out at any time.

he knows that cultivation society doesn't care about war crimes and concentration camps and mistreatment of the remaining wen survivors of the sunshot campaign. but the right thing to do now that they aren't at wartime is to help them, plus they'd punish him either way for it, so he will.

in this regard wei wuxian is more self-aware of his position than jin guangyao. he does care about common people and he does try his best to help them as an individual. even if that ends up with him disabled, arrested, targeted in sieges, or dead.

but is he revolutionary? in the full equality, fight the establishment, rewrite laws, change social structures and people's perceptions of class sense?

no. no. he isn't.

now my knowledge of chinese society and history is fairly limited to my hindu diaspora upbringing and our shared cultural similarities ... but speaking to what i absolutely know us true, adherence to one's social class is expected.

this is rigid. efforts and merits might bring you some level of mobility, but in the end, the circumstances of your birth will always be scrutinized first, and your behavior compared to the stereotypes of where and how you originate.

mdzs is not about revolution, and none of its characters are able to truly change its society. there is no grand "maybe cutsleeves aren't inherently bad" or "i'm sorry for persecuting you and believing hearsay, you were truly a good person all along!" at the finale.

people ignore history and repeat it again with the next batch of ugly gossip and rumors.

wei wuxian, lan wangji, and luo qingyang find peace only by distancing themselves from cultivation society and its opinions.

jin guangyao and wei wuxian both cannot ever escape from others' perception of their origins and actions. regardless of their personal beliefs, they are not revolutionaries.

[thedevilspearl]

author’s note ʚɞ i’m testing the waters with this one so please be kind about it. please also excuse the pet name sugar tits, i think it’s hot don’t judge me >_<

tags ʚɞ 5.6k words, dark content, mammon x female reader, bully!mammon, dubcon (forced consent), non–consensual photo taking, semi–public sex, (public) groping, blowjob, degradation, name calling, praise, pet names, humiliation kink, breeding kink, dacryphillia. minors do not interact!

ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀᴍᴍᴏɴ and his antics. it’s beyond ridiculous at this point. never did you imagine becoming his target but when you think about it long enough, you realise your whole existence in the devildom was set up to be a laughing stock from the beginning.

back when you had just arrived, he acted as your tour guide but then forced you to cover his dinner duties at home. he helped you with your homework since you were new to the subjects but demanded you pay him back with all of your saved grimm. he even lent you some of his friends to help curb your homesickness only to have them report back every little detail so he could blackmail you later on.

and those kind of things happen when he’s being nice; unfortunately for you, mammon is very rarely nice. not a day goes by where he doesn’t find a way to make your life hell.

mammon, the avatar of greed, the second eldest of the powerful demon brothers, and as he likes to call himself, your first man, rarely shows kindness towards you unless he can gain something from it.

even if he gets nothing in return, he will go out of his way. from tripping you up in hallways to stealing your possessions, and forcing you to complete his homework to treating you like his lackey. anything and everything he does is in some way or another intended to bring you misery.

you’ve grown accustomed to being pushed around and laughed at for the sake of some demon’s entertainment, but there’s something else you’ve also grown used to.

the fact is, mammon gives you more attention than he gives anyone, even himself. and it’s a delusional way to think but it helps you cope with your sorrowful life in the devildom.

you’ve considered confiding in someone; surely the bullying would cease if diavolo found out mammon was harming the student exchange programme like this. but at the end of the day, mammon held more power over you than diavolo himself.

each and every decision you make, reluctantly or otherwise, gives him more power as the days go by. because you have no other choice but to go along with it; and if you don’t want to, he’ll simply blackmail you.

a while ago, you became incredibly close to knocking on lucifer’s door and confessing everything after mammon snapped pictures of you showering and threatened to post them if you didn’t do what he said. lamentably, you gave up on the effort.

if lucifer found out, he would have punished mammon. and after that, you have no doubt mammon would come after you with those big threats again. and you’ve never been in a position strong enough to fight back against him.

the pathetic little human, the bane of his life. yet, he can’t seem to stay away from you. demons are inherently evil creatures, that is a known fact. but after coming to the devildom, you learned demons are, in fact, not all monster.

they have bodies that look human and thoughts and feelings which may be questionable at time but still similar enough to the people in your own world to make you think wait a minute, they’re not all bad.

but that was before mammon revealed his irrational hatred for you. it has nothing to do with him hating humans or those weaker than him and everything to do with his dark, twisted infatuation with you. he’s the definition of cruel and demonic and you feel his animosity deep in your bones, now more than ever.

you don’t know how he did it, but staring at an empty locker where your rad uniform should be sitting boils your blood.

filled with fury, you storm out of the changing rooms in search of the demon.

mammon had already shrunk your sports kit by turning up the temperature when they were getting washed so your usually loose–fitting shorts cling to your thighs and butt. and after getting caught in the rain five minutes ago, you rushed inside to change your sodden white shirt.

but you were foolish to think things would go your way and now you’re storming through rad’s hallways with shorts riding up your ass and your bra fully visible under the wet shirt clinging to you. you’re overflowing with so much rage that you don’t care about the demons eyeing you in the tight clothes or licking their lips as you rush past them.

you spot your nemesis at the end of the hallway and for a moment, your heart stops beating. inhaling deeply, you build the courage to storm up to the white–haired demon.

he’s surrounded by his cronies, laughing at some sleazy joke that came out of his mouth and he refuses to look at you despite you standing in front of him. you know he knows you’re there. but in mammon fashion, he publicly humiliates you once again by completely ignoring you.

meanwhile, a small crowd of hungry demons gathers around you and your heart patters, shying under their interested eyes. but now is not a time to show weakness. now is the time to finally put mammon in his place, which is rather ironic since his place is among the strongest beings in all three realms and you are but a measly human.

“hey!” you shout and he rolls his eyes before finally turning to look at you.

just the sight of him infuriates you, but you’re not sure if the heat growing in your core is rooted from fury or from the way his eyes rake up and down your body. he blue orbs fall to your feet and slowly rise, taking in every detail of your frame.

little do you know, the shape of your body has him salivating. his eyes linger at your thighs, so thick and plush; your hips, so curvaceous and delicious; your tits, so tempting with your perky nipples poking through and your lacey bra visible under the wet shirt.

the tip of his tongue runs under his fangs before wetting his lips as they inch up one side of his face. as attractive as his smirk is, you want to slap it right off his face.

“what’s up, sugar tits?” he quirks his brows, nodding his head to notion the attention he has for the state of your chest, hence the nickname.

you follow his gaze downwards, fully grasping how much of your breasts were on display. you gasp, covering them but it does nothing to hide your entire ass also being showcased.

damn, mammon thinks. you might as well not be wearing any underwear with how tightly your shorts are pressed against your pussy. he can see everything.

“i knew ya were a desperate little thing,” mammon taunts. “but i didn’t think you’d be so dumb to come beg for me in front of everyone.”

“i didn’t come to beg!” you yell, cowering as the crowd fills with laughs and jeers.

“then what did ya come for?” mammon rolls his eyes.

“i came here to…”

“….to what?” mammon steps closer. his scent is intoxicating as it surrounds you. “ya came here to yell at me, the great mammon?”

“n-no….” you mutter, suddenly afraid of his close proximity. with ever step forward he makes, you take one back which ends with your back against the wall and his big frame caging you against it.

he creates a little cave between your bodies that holds barely enough air for you to breathe. just like always, he controls you in any situation. if he doesn’t want you to breathe, he will simply steal all the air you could possibly breathe. and that means locking you tightly between his body and the wall will suffocate you as much as he wants it to, regardless of your pleas for forgiveness.

“i’m sorry....i–i shouldn’t have yelled at you....i didn’t mean to.”

whatever flattery you have in your tone fails to do the job as he closes in, the space between you negligent while you try to figure out a way to escape.

but as your body heats up from mammon forcing proximity, his hands begin to roam your body and you lose the ability to think straight.

“aww, the little human’s blushing. ya like me being this close?” you whimper against him, but he leans in to your ear and whispers, “want me to touch you?”

a quiet but still audible gasp drifts to his ears and he reigns in the delicacy of the sound. such a sweet, pretty sound. he simply needs to hear it again.

“you do, don’t you?” he chuckles lowly. “just say the words and i’ll do it.”

despite every cell in your brain rooting against you, you quietly whisper back to him, “please.... please touch me.”

a rumble sounds in his chest, growling from the pleasure of you inviting him to touch you. the heat radiates from your body, your desperation oozing from your pores. and there’s something else coming from your body, something you’re so ashamed to admit.

mammon’s teasing alone is enough to create wetness between your legs and succumbing to his dominance has your pussy producing more arousal with each throb of your lips.

“ah!” you gasp as a large hand cups your breast. you push his arm away but it only tightens his grip on it. “mammon....”

“these are some sweet tits, mc. shame ya hid ’m from me for so long.”

you have no chance to protest as he moves onto the next, grabbing both your breasts and squeazing hard. you cry out, hoping it would signal for help but it comes out as a moan instead, arousing the audience further.

every demon wants a piece of you, but mammon lays his claim on your body by roaming every inch of it, grabbing every bit of flesh as if it’s the only thing keeping him sane, which might well be true.

with the way he kneads your ass between his rough fingers, you’re just about ready to submit to him completely, to sacrifice your entire body to him so he can have his way and be satisfied.

“fuck,” mammon grumbles as his hands slide lower; you moan and whimper, embarrassed by your helpless position. there’s no way you can come back from this, not when mammon’s hand cups your pussy, rubbing up and down to bring you the relief you so desperately needed. and to his surprise, he finds more than what he expected. “look at that! she soaked through her panties and her shorts.”

“it’s your fault they’re so tight on me....”

“but it’s your fault that you’re this fucking wet,” he reminds you, and you back down with a heavy blush. “you’re the one getting turned on by this, sicko.”

he continues groping you, fondling your tits and squeezing your ass before his hand moves to your front and cups your tight pussy over and over again. you find what energy you have in you to hide your moans but it’s a failed attempt. as quiet as they are, he still hears them.

“fuck,” he groans into your ear, and whispers so no one else can hear his filthy voice. “wanna fuck this pussy so bad.”

“d-don’t….” you whimper, but your resistance earns a harsh grip on your ass. his fingers dig deep into your flesh, sure to leave behind bruises. “stop....”

“hah? you’re telling me, the great mammon, no? darlin’, ya already know how that’s gonna turn out.”

your gaze is blurred by tears — from embarrassment, from shame, from arousal. you can barely understand the plethora of sensations in your body but you do know that mammon touching you is so wrong even if it feels so right.

it confuses you so much that you can’t stop your hand from rising and colliding with his face. at least your gut instincts are still working. you push him away in the moment he is stunned and your palm stings from the slap.

the entire right side of his face burns red as he holds it.

“the fuck?!” he growls, bearing his fangs at you. “you fucking hit me?”

the crowd gasps and mutters as he dives towards you with his fists raised. you brace for impact, ready to be slammed into the wall. he’s never hurt you so badly before, but today just happens to be the day where all lines are crossed.

you gasp, holding up your hands to protect your face but as if time has frozen, you don’t feel the impact coming. when you finally breathe and look up, mammon looks down at you with raging eyes and a contorted face — as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was about to do.

before you can even think to question why he stopped himself, the two demons you least expect to see appear, parting the crowd as they arrive: lucifer, with diavolo trailing behind him.

“what is the meaning of this?” diavolo bellows, his eyes draping down your form.

lucifer’s cheeks burn, not from blushing but rather, anger, embarrassment, humiliation. “what on earth are you wearing?”

regret floods you as you remember your position in their household. and you’ve brought shame onto the brothers for flaunting yourself around rad dressed in what might as well be underwear.

diavolo’s voice is a bit more kind towards you, but he’s definitely pissed. “i’m going to assume you aren’t aware of the dress code within these walls, mc. might i remind you that dressing inappropriately will result in punishment. as will attacking another student. you will both receive detention effective immediately.”

“it was mammon—”

“stop your sputtering,” lucifer snaps. “go change this instant.”

“but….my uniform was stolen.”

“by who?”

you glance slyly to the white–haired demon beside you and your heart hammers. you could tell lucifer now, tell him everything that mammon has ever done to you. but mammon’s death glare scares you. not because of what he might do to you if you snitch, but how you’ll feel if he is ordered to never interact with you again.

you’re sure diavolo would put a stop to the bullying straight away, maybe even move you out of the house of lamentation. but that means you’ll see less of mammon and despite how much you hate him, you’ll feel lonely without his constant unwarranted attention.

“never mind,” you mutter. “i’ll find it.”

you arrived to detention on time, not wanting to anger lucifer any further. thankfully, the eldest had figured out it was mammon who stole your uniform and had him return it. the classroom is empty save for your sorrowful soul.

you hope mammon doesn’t come. he skips detentions just like he skips classes so you’re happy to have some time alone to calm down before heading home.

but as your luck would have it, the demon struts in, spotting you in your seat before striding over to sit beside you.

“you can sit anywhere in the room but you choose to sit next to me?” you scoff. “i thought you were supposed to hate me.”

“i do.”

“then why are you sitting next to me?”

mammon won’t allow that, though. he’s in control. whatever fantasies you have of him being soft and affectionate with you are over the seconds he decides them to be and right now, he puts an end to them by slipping his hand under your blazer and cupping your breast.

“so i can do this.” mammon raises his hand, slowly but it’s still concerning. his fingers brush your hair away from your face and your mind spins from the action. his thumb creeps closer, brushing the soft, sensitive skin of your lips.

you’re afraid to look at him, to see the gentleness hidden beneath his mean facade knowing that you’d fall for it in an instant.

you were beginning to feel the phantom of his touches from earlier, which is nothing if not the biggest red flag. but having his hand places on them again, fondling them eagerly is infinitely better than the memories of his corroding touch.

every second which passes with his hands on you, another part of you is corrupted by him and those few sacred, untouched parts rebel against all odds and finally give you some self–restraint and control.

“don’t touch me!” you whack his arm away and scoot over to the next chair, embarrassed that you almost fell for him again. every single time he teases you with niceties and gentle gestures that border flirtation, you find yourself hoping that it might be real.

but he’s just playing with you like he always has. he wants nothing more than to make you feel like a fool under his charms. your humiliation is food to him.

“come on, you said it was fine earlier. let me do it again.”

“no,” you say firmly. “i don’t want you to touch me anymore.”

mammon huffs. “suit yourself.”

hopefully with a seat between you, he’ll put an end to his interest in you and ignore you just like you’re ignoring him.

but choosing to ignore him would be your biggest mistake because when you glance over, in the corner of your eye you see on his ddd a photo of you naked in the shower. your body jolts at the sight of it.

“what the hell, mammon?!” you scream. “what are you doing?”

“gonna post it on devilgram, duh.”

“wait, mammon! don’t!” you try grabbing for his phone but he yanks your arm away from it and pushes you away.

“come on,” he whistles. “show me your tits.”

“what....”

he threatens you by holding his thumb over the post button. “didn’t want me to touch you, well now you gotta do what i say or i’ll post ’em”

“please, mammon. don’t do this.”

“nuh-uh. you should be on your knees begging me if you want me to stop.”

an inhumane noise releases from your throat. you’re not quite sure what it was — a growl of frustration, a beg for help? you’ll bever know because you’re too busy sinking to your knees pleading for mercy.

“not yet,” mammon stops you before your knees graze the ground. “get your tits out first.”

“what?”

“fuck, how many times do i need to say it?” he stares at you, demanding your obedience and you slowly rise, shamefully removing your blazer. “that’s better.”

his demonic blue–gold eyes cut through your skin and you unbutton your shirt one button at a time, shrugging it off so it falls down your shoulders but still hooked on your elbows. mammon salivates at the sight of your pretty chest.

he’s been waiting to see them since he saw you earlier, but fuck. this is the real deal. your breasts sit nicely in their lacey cups and just like a few hours ago, your slutty nipples poke through.

his hand immediately goes to his crotch and palms himself. you feel sick, disgusted but the way his hand moves against himself and his reddening cheeks turns you on. you try to look away from him, but you simply cannot do so.

“c’mere,” mammon mutters and with the phone in his hand ready to post your nude pictures, you do as he says. “get on your knees.”

when they touch the ground, your body shudders and you settle in front of him. there are no words to describe the way he looks down at you. you almost feel like it’s a blessing to be looked at by him at all.

“take my dick outta my pants.”

“what?”

“are ya dumb or something? take my fucking dick out of my pants.”

you can tell his patience is running thin and you don’t dare to test him further when he waves his ddd in front of your face. you reach up with shaky hands to unzip his pants but he stops you again.

“do it with your mouth.”

what kind of fantasies must he be having to order you to do such a thing? well, they’re the fantasies you play a part in and you’ll play them out exactly as he desires for your own wellbeing, lest the entire devildom see pictures of you naked.

taking the metal zip between your teeth, you pull it down. the button is more difficult to undo but you get there in the end despite mammon cackling at your struggle. next, you bite the fabric before dragging it down his thighs.

the sheer size of his cock amazes you and the ghost of it fills you up just by looking at it. your body is begging for him to be inside you, and you pray he’ll never find out. he ushers you to keep going and in the same way, you pull down his boxers, looking him dead in the eyes as you drag them down with your teeth.

he hisses as his cock is freed, letting it bounce as it twitches to life. cum oozes from his tip and you mindlessly lick your lips.

“suck it.” he says and reluctantly, you inch forward, taking his tip between your lips. your tongue swipes over it, tasting his cum that you can only describe as the only substance you’ll need to survive on from now on.

“fuck,” he groans. “your slutty mouth feels so fucking good.”

your pussy throbs each and every time he calls you a slut no matter how much you hate it and he inspires you to take him deeper in your mouth in hopes of him calling you it again. his fat cock fills your cheeks and you move back and forth, tongue running along his shaft.

he’s thick and hard, too big to fit in your mouth and you can only imagine the size of it tearing your pussy walls apart when he finally finds his home in there.

“ya looked so fucking hot in those shorts,” he grunts. “bet ya loved every minute of it, strutting around like a slut.”

“i’m not,” you mumble around his cock. “i’m not a slut.”

mammon scoffs, somehow able to understand your muffled words while his cock sits heavy in your mouth. he tuts as you pull back, drenching his cock in your saliva. “don’t lie to me, sweetheart. i know what a dirty little slut ya.”

“no…”

“every demon in that hallway was looking at ya and all i could smell was your sweet pussy leaking for me. bet they could all smell it too. bet they wanted ya as bad as i do.”

mammon….wants you?

now, that’s not something you ever thought of being a possibility. but as the words slip from his lips, your lower body heats up even more. there is so much desperation growing between your legs and you can’t hold back.

your nimble fingers find their way between your legs and mammon uses his foot to lift up your skirt and peek at the dirty things you do to yourself underneath it. god, your eyes are just so needy for him as he watches your fingers push in and out of your pussy.

the only thing blocking his view are the panties you pulled to the side and he orders you to take them off. it pains you to obey him again but the ache in your belly hurts so much more. if you listen to him well enough, maybe he’ll fill you up and finally put your body at ease.

after all that’s happened, the only thing you want right now is his fat cock stuffing you to the hilt instead of your amateur fingers which do not dare to match the level of pleasure mammon’s cock can give you.

swallowing bitterly, you gently place your soaked panties in the hand he holds out, feeling your arousal drip down your thighs already.

“you’re such a naughty girl, getting wet like this,” he teases, rubbing his thumb over the soggy patch on your panties. “so fucking bad.”

“i’m not!” you move away from him completely and plead on your knees. “i’m good, i’ve been nothing but good to you and you treat me so horribly!”

mammon supposes he should feel bad seeing you cry, but your cute little sniffles and the way your teary eyes look up at him through sodden lashes, well, it does make him feel bad….for what he’s about to do to you.

“aww, baby,” his hand snakes his hand under your chin. your skin burns from the way his fingers feel so right around your neck. his touch is gentle, guiding you up onto your feet and your knees are so weak that you begrudgingly lean on him for support. “i didn’t mean to make ya cry.”

his voice is soft as he feigns a pout while spouting such a lie. making you cry is a reward for mammon. you wouldn’t be surprised if he was getting off on this.

“what did i do to deserve this?” you whimper.

“oh darlin’” he kisses your cheek, nuzzling into your neck. the softness in his voice is foreign, and the gentle graze of his lips teasing your skin is addicting. “do you want me to stop?”

“huh?”

“want me to stop being mean to ya?”

freeing himself from the intoxicating scent of your pulse, he holds his face close to you with a hand on either side of yours, thumbs stroking your hot cheeks and wiping away tears. a sick feeling builds in your stomach, but a desperate, needy ache grows faster and stronger.

and as loud as they both are, you can only listen to one bodily instinct at a time.

nodding slowly, you don’t tear your eyes away from his hoping he will see how pathetic and miserable and desperate you are. you’d do anything if it means he’ll stop harassing you.

mammon’s wide smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes and he leans in, surprising you when his lips touch yours. your eyes grow to an abstractly large size and you don’t dare to move as he glides his lips against yours.

one arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against him and his cock presses into your tummy while the other snakes around your shoulders, grabbing your scalp and holding your head in place. despite your best efforts to push him away, you remain with your lips locked onto his.

they’re both hot and cold at the same time, both gentle and destructive. all of your walls break down as he pries your sorry lips apart, swiping his tongue along them before devouring your mouth whole.

you moan and gasp against him, beating his chest with your fists but he refuses to let you go and to your dismay — or delight, you can’t quite tell — his hips begin moving. he grinds into your body, rubbing his bare cock along your tummy and leaving cum stains on your clothes.

every alarm in your body rings loudly and you lose the ability to breathe. your mind fogs up from the lack of air but you’re sure he’s doing this on purpose, not allowing you a single ounce of it and if one manages to slip past your lips, he steals it right away.

you know how he works. what mammon wants, mammon gets and while he deprives you of oxygen, he’s waiting for you to give in.

he forces his tongue deep in your mouth but the feel of it is new and draws out a deeper beast within you, greed and excitement growing in your core. while his cock ruts against you, your hands find it and you slowly stroke him, spreading his pre–cum along his length.

“that’s it. keep doing that,” he groans, lips only inches apart. “good girl.”

a whimper escapes you as the words roll of his tongue and your pussy erupts in sparks.

“what’s that, huh? you like it when i call you good girl?” biting your lip, you nod eagerly, earning another proud smile from him. “hm, maybe i should keep calling ya it. but then again, you’re nothing but a worthless slut.”

mammon grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes you to the cold, hard ground. before you can wiggle away, he has you locked in place with your arms pinned down at the sides and your legs stretched on either side of his hips.

“mammon!” you yelp. “please, no….”

“dontcha ya want me to stop being mean to ya?” he questions, eyes filled with madness as he yanks down your bra and gropes your breasts. holding you in place as you writhe against him, mammon leans down and takes your nipple between his lips. “i’ll stop if you let me fuck your sweet little pussy. it’s a good deal, ain’t it?”

it’s the most horrific deal you’ve ever heard but you’re beyond reasoning at this point. the two things you desire most — for him to fuck you dumb on his cock and for him to stop bullying you — he can give to you right now. there’s no harm in killing two birds with one stone, right? if he’s going to be mean about it, you’ve no choice but to take it given it’s the only chance you’ll ever have to free yourself from him.

“fuck, your tits are so sweet.” he can’t stop playing with them, squeezing them, slapping them and marvelling at the way they jiggle, then pinching your nipples and pulling them taught before releasing them and taking them in his mouth again.

“ah!” you moan. “mammon, don’t…” but the warmth of his lips is welcomed by your body and you arch into him.

burying his face into your breasts, he sucks and bites for what feels like hours, covering your mounds with bruises and when he rises with a gasp, his lips are covered in his saliva. his mini–makeout session with your breasts makes every hair on your body stand tall, all the while, your pussy leaks onto the ground beneath you.

mammon grabs both of your breasts, blessing each of his hands with their softness and rubs his cock head over your puffy lips.

“fucking sugar tits, alright,” he jokes. “ya like it when i call ya that?”

you shake your head violently but the truth is, you haven’t stopped thinking about it since he called you it earlier. it’s such a ridiculous name, so degrading and obscene. yet, your hole clenches over nothing when he calls you it.

“that’s right, sugar tits. i can feel your pussy throbbing against me.” mammon warns. “you’re gonna cum while i call ya sugar tits, ain’t ya?”

shaking your head again, you cry no’s and stop’s but each of them fly past his ears. but a guttural feeling deep down knows you’re glad he won’t listen. your pussy aches for his cock to fill you up, for your name to roll off his lips while he fucks his cum far into your pussy.

“you want this, don’t ya?”

“no,” you sob.

“don’t lie to me, bitch. you know you want it.”

“i don’t!”

oh, but you do.

you want this more than anything but you’d rather him not know because it would only give him more fuel to ruin you with.

“yes, you fucking do,” he forces the answer for you. his grabs his cock and prods it against your hole. it’s so wet and slippery that he almost falls deep inside but he’s using the last remainders of his control to hear you say the words he’s wanted to hear for so long. “you fucking want this. tell me you want this.”

you whine. struggling against him but he pushes you down with his ungodly strength.

“say it or i’ll post the fucking pictures.”

“i want it!” you yelp, the words blurting out against your will. “please, mammon. i want it!”

“that’s what i fucking thought.”

and with that, mammon pushes himself past your hole, his leaking tip digging its way into your pussy. your legs fly in the air as you feel him stretch your walls unbelievably wide.

“fuck! mammon!”

“your pussy’s sucking me in, baby,” he grunts with each thrust. “i knew ya wanted my cock this bad.”

with each rock of his hips, your body drags against the ground and he pins you down in place again, arms at your side and body spread wide for him. his eyes latch onto your tits bouncing with every thrust.

they mesmerise him, the way they knock up and down with each hard thrust acting as hypnosis for the demon and he grows desperate for release.

“fuck, sugar tits,” you clench at the pet name. it’s so humiliating but it feels so fucking good, as good as his cock battering your insides. “such a fucking slut enjoying my cock like this.”

he spits insult after insult, mocking you for your weakness against him. “nothin’ but a dirty little human desperate for some demon cock, huh? bet that’s why ya let me fuck around with ya for so long, because ya wanted this to happen, wanted me to fill your tiny little hole with my cum. isn’t that right?”

“no,” you shake your head, but you’re quickly met with his hands gripping your face harshly. “i mean, yes! yes i wanted this!”

“keep going….” he ruts harder, knocking your insides in the right way.

“i wanted this for so long, mammon!” you cry. “wanted your cock so bad i let you treat me like dirt all this time!”

“that’s right,” mammon groans. “i’m always fucking right about ya. nothin’ but a slutty little hole for me. gonna fucking breed ya with all of my cum, and no one’s ever gonna touch ya but me.”

“oh!” you moan, relishing in the words spilling from his lips. you know he doesn’t mean anything special by it, but you’re so blissed out from his cock that for a moment, it feels real. you’re his and his only in the empty classroom and you feel….special. “mammon, it’s so good!”

“yeah? my cock’s making ya feel good?”

“yes!”

“fucking hell, sugar tits loves my cock,” he yells for the whole school to hear, laughing at your the way your pussy tightens when he says it. “go on, you say it too.”

“huh?” you whine.

“fucking say it, scream it. need the whole fucking devildom to here ya being a slut for me.”

“but—”

“say it, angel. or ya don’t get to cum,” he grins seeing the desperation in your eyes, so obedient to him just for an orgasm. how much more pathetic can you get? “go on, be a good girl and say it.”

“i….i love mammon’s cock….”

“louder.”

“i love mammon’s cock,” you repeat but he still isn’t satisfied. he thrusts into you particularly harshly, a yelp escaping your lips and you hear his message loud and clear, screaming, “i love the great mammon’s cock!”

“that’s right, sugar tits,” he leans down. “ya gonna cum now?”

you nod fervently, desperate for release. his cock drags along your clenching walls, awakening the hidden sweet spots as your nectar leaks around him. “wanna cum! please!”

“go ahead, baby,” he ruts with a deep groan, coming close to the edge himself. “i’m gonna finish inside your filthy little pussy.”

“hhm,” you moan. “you shouldn’t!”

“but i’m gonna anyway.”

all it takes as one more thrust to feel ropes of mammon’s hot cum spurting out into your pussy. his thumb finds your clit and pinches it, pulls it, then circles it roughly while pushing his cum deeper inside you with his cock. seconds later, ecstasy washes over you and your body loses control, spasming against his cock as you arch deeper into it. your walls are painted white with his cum and his cocks remains sheathed in your pussy as you writhe through your prolonged orgasm.

“fuck!” you squeal. “it feels so fucking good!”

“holy shit,” mammon groans, hissing when he finally pulls out from your hot mess of a pussy. “that was fucking amazing, huh?”

he falls back, watching your body twitch and tremble and his cum pours out from between your legs, giving him the perfect idea. he reaches for his ddd and opens the camera, facing it towards your blissed the fuck out body.

“hey, sugar tits,” you look at him, haunted by the sick grin on his face. “smile for the camera.”

“wait, mammon—”

“shaddup,” he mumbles and seconds later, several snaps of his camera sound. you yelp, covering your chest and closing your legs in a weak attempt. but mammon’s strength is far to superior to yours and he yanks your legs back open. “i gotcha now, angel.”

“what…?”

he snaps several more pictures and even a short film of his cum gushing out of your pussy. “fuck, i could sell these for some real grimm.”

the way his eyes light up terrifies you and you want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and cease to exist. if he did, your life in the devildom would truly be over. you’d have no dignity remaining from what little of it was left anyway.

“you said you’s stop!” you cry. “you promised you wouldn’t mess with me anymore if i let you fuck me!”

“ya didn’t actually believe that, did ya?”

the world comes crashing down on your heavy, aching body and you’re overcome with violent sobbing. all hope is lost; there’s nothing good left for you now. mammon has made sure of that.

“why? why are you doing this to me?”

“because you’re nothing but a worthless slut. but you’re fun to play with, i’ll give ya that.”

every nerve on your body aches with humiliation. and what’s worse is knowing mammon gets off to it every single time.

how could you ever think you would mean something to him? you know your place full and well yet you still strived to be something more to him, when in reality, all you are is a toy for him to play with, a pathetic human designed for him to ruin in every way.

“p-please….” you sob. “please don’t tell anyone.

“that’s right, angel. you better do everything i say from now on, or else the entire fucking devildom is gonna know how much of a greedy slut ya are. fuck, ya were so fucking desperate for me to breed ya.”

your heart collapses into your stomach; you were a fool to ever believe him. his words and his touches twisted their way into your core and you gave into your sickly attraction to him. but what’s done is done and the best you can do now is some damage control.

“y–you won’t show the pictures to anyone….right?”

mammon scoffs with his devilish grin refusing to leave his face. your skin tingles as he glares at you. despite his terrible attention span and low grades, mammon is smart when he wants to be and smart he is by hacking away at all of your strength, leaving you with nothing but weakness and in the position he’s been wanting you in since the beginning.

“i won’t….for a price,” he grins. “what are ya willing to do to stop me from showing ‘em?”

with one question spilling from his lips, your mind shatters upon the realisation that your existence is now in his hands. you swallow, giving up on all of your pride and courage and hoping desperation will help you. and you really hope it will because that’s all you have left.

“anything. i’ll do anything.”

“good,” his eyes are dark like deep water as he leans over you again, engulfing your pitiful body in his scent. your heart races, tears soaking your eyes as you officially sign away your life to him. “because from now on, you’re the great mammon’s personal slut.”

[nekrosdolly]

another wesker brain rot blurb (18+)

cw; unhinged wesker thanks to uroboros, uroboros injections and mentions, canon compliant with the events leading up to re5, husband wesker, objectification if you squint, temperature differences (he is an icicle personified sorry guys), domesticated wesker, fingering, non-specified reader genitalia.

pet names (reader received): my dear, dearest, little dove

husband albert wesker ♡ ︎♡ ︎♡

husband wesker, who, thanks to uroboros, has a heightened sense of smell. since starting his injections, he's been obsessed with how you smell- your shampoo, your cologne/perfume, any lotions you'd use. even the scent of your skin without any product added is addictive.

husband wesker, who cooks for you despite his developing lack of appetite. he knows you need to eat and truthfully, he enjoys cooking. he never got to experience he domestics of having a homelife, what with his whole life being Umbrella ever since he was born. learning to cook is definitely stressful at first and he's not good to begin with- he's a scientist, not a chef. truthfully, he burns a lot of things at first, but you're a good sport and you help him along. he is embarrassed the first few times, even if he doesn't outright say it you can tell by the way the tips of his ears turn pink and how his lip twitches.

husband wesker, who comes up from behind when you're least expecting it and slides his hand to the small of your back, dipping his head down to kiss your hair, secretly marveling at how good you smell. he adores how soft your hair is too. how loud your heart beats in your chest when he moves his hand to your hip, when he murmurs in your ear, "you are divine, my dear."

husband wesker, who, despite losing his humanity, knows to treat you with care. though his primal instincts have begun to take over, he's careful with you as he's always been. though his eyes have turned red, his pupils to slits, he looks at you with adoration. his touches are never violent- he's become gentler since taking doses of Uroboros. he treats you less like your own person and more like a prize to hang on a wall. everything you do makes his heart, beating or otherwise, swell with pride. his blood roars in his ears at the most innocent of touches from you.

husband wesker, who was never one for kisses before Uroboros, now kisses you like his life depends on it. always handsy and needs you near for him to focus, otherwise he's worried about what you're doing and who you might be with. he knows you'd never rat him out- you love him just as much as he loves you, after all- but he can't help the thought that someone is manipulating you. someone that isn't him, and that hurts. he has no reason to be jealous

husband wesker, who never blows up your phone, but takes to periods of the cold shoulder until you finally get him to tell you what's wrong. his rage is calm with you. he'll make you sit in his lap while he tells you what's wrong, only for you to soothe him and assuage his fears. you know he's coming from a good place, even if his methods are a bit odd. his hands never leave you as he talks, finding comfort in stroking your hair or your cheek, even rubbing circles on the meat of your hips. without his gloves, his fingers are just as cold as ever, even through layers of clothing.

husband wesker, who's gentle with you during sex because if he's not, he might seriously injure you. his grip on your hips is deadly, but other than that, he's a saint. he whispers praises while he fingers your fluttering entrance, his fingers slick with your come and lube. "you're taking my fingers so well, little dove. can you take another? just one more for me, dearest?"

you'll nod, a quiet moan leaving you when he adds a third finger- they're long and on the thicker side, helping to stretch you open in preparation while also hitting that spot that makes you go limp. he kisses your neck, down to your collarbone, where he leaves lovebites and admittedly very dark hickeys. your nails digging into his arm brings him back from his thoughts, and he watches you come undone from his fingers for the second time. this was supposed to prep you, but he loves how you look with his fingers buried within you.

[thequietkid-moonie]

I have a request! If i can

Qin shi huang and hades ( if you can do both not separate ) with the most sweet and kind reader. Who is basically an angel and just them fighting over her.

Thats all! Thank you if you can do the request if you cant thats okay! I love your works aswell 🩷 have a nice day

In love with the same sweet and kind person

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Hades & Qin Shin Huang ] [ Records of Ragnarok / Shuumatsu no Valkyrie ]

I love when ppl tell me that they love my work! Is super reasuring and make me feel better!! ❤️ Thank u!!

Also, I love the prompts where is two characters in love with the same person, so thank you so much for requesting this!!!

Qin Shin Huang and Hades get along rather well, Qin remember Hades to his beloved brother and after a while he just start to platonically like him, while Qin since the start had treat him rather friendly and grows to admire him as a person, both grows to have a good friendship

For non of them matter if you are a god or a human, not even if you are a demigod or another kind of creature, Hades doesn't discriminate for the race and he just treat you as a equal while Qin just isn't bothered by it and just treat you like anyone else (and once you become his friend he is even more friendly and trust in you a lot)

Both of them tries to spend a lot of time with you, Hades likes your company and enjoys having you around even before developing romantic feelings, while Qin is more clingy, he is prideful and loves having little adventures so he is always draging you around to whatever he is planning to do

For both of them to develop romantic feelings for you is a slowly process but when it happens is actually pretty quickly for them to notice it

Hades is a mature and calm person, he knows himself pretty well so he almost immediatly notice the change on his feelings for you, and just like that he accept them complety with a smile. Hades will take a while before start trying to court you, being a slow start because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable or rush things

In the other hand, Qin is more carefree and kinda childish but that doesn't stop him from noticing the growing feelings of love he holds for you, it take him a little while but when he does he accept it right away, he thinks you are amazing so it isn't weird to think that he is in love with you. Qin becomes pretty open with his feelings, he becomes a little more clingy and affectionate, is pretty obvious that he is interested on you but he never accept it if someone asks

Your sweet and kind personality makes Hades feel at peace, it makes him feel like nothing else in the world exist aside from the two of you when you two are together, and is something that he loves, Hades feels like if with every day it pass he just admire you and falls in love with you more and more

Qin loves your personality, your kindness brights his day and your sweetness make him feel the need to protect you from anything and everything, also it make him being more playfuly, he just can't get his hands out of you (like holding your hands, resting his hand in your back so you don't fall or even carrying you around if you let him) and he doesn't seem to be able to leave you alone neither, he just loves being around you a lot

It won't take much time before both find out the feelings of the other, Hades is the first one to notice for how obvious Qin is, and won't doubt in confront him, calling him irresponsable and irritating for how clingy he is and when Qin notice Hades' feelings he tease him about it, but even if it doesn't seem like much there it start a little war between them

Both are constantly having arguments over it, mainly just when one of them are monopolizing you and being possessive, Hades calls Qin an irresponsable and sometimes a danger for you, while Qin call him boring and overwhelming with all his worries. However they never fight in front of you, they don't want to upset you or anything

Sometimes they opt to spend time the three together and they get along pretty well, the two of them were already friends so it isn't too difficult to let aside the fights for a while and just enjoy each other company

Both of them are man of honor and knows when they lose, if you ever choose one of them the other will totally understand and respect your relationship, but that isn't going to happen until they end with all the ways they have to try to court you or that you directly tell them that you love one of them (non of them will ever force their feelings onto you, but Qin is more probably to insist a little longer). As well, non of them will let this afect your friendship and will continue being your friend (of both)

If you end up being in a relationship with someone else it would be pretty irritating for both of them but at the end they will be supportive towards you (to Hades will be easier to accept it than for Qin)

Even if you don't choose non of them they will respect your choise and let you be, keeping your relationship as a friendship (however there is a chance that they will try to flirt with you sometimes for a while)

[beanibon]

I see you’ve got requests open and your Mermaid AU has me hooked 👀 Could you write about Mer!VashOr Mer!Knives with an s/o that’s part human (whatever the other part is can be up to you :})? literally go nuts with this request tbh-

Oml yesss!!! Also I have to stay true to my mermaidness, so reader is gonna be half-mermaid!

So reader essentially is human appearance, but with colourful webbed fingers and feet to help swim, and when they're in the water gills will open on their necks. This is how Mer!Vash and Mer!Knives children would look like in their respective lil headcanons (not saying that reader is their children, let this be separate from those ones xD)

TW: none really, just mating bites, a little suggestive in Vash's :3

You were a bizarre sight, unlike the other humans who overlooked him and his brother. You had a kind of aura that intrigued Knives, that seemed oddly familiar as you went about your work, following Rem as you assisted her in regards to the brother's.

The moment you revealed what you actually were, as Knives dragged your unaware body into the freezing depths, pausing as gills opened along your neck.

Curious chirps sounded as Knives squinted at you, flipping you this way and that as he studied your now prominent mermaid features.

You were patient, laughing as the usually aggressive mermaid circled you, poked and prodded you in his confusion. Not to mention Rem had made no effort to help you, the woman remaining at the observation pools edge.

When his own webbed hands grabbed your webbed hand, Knives huffed. Boredly swimming away, he made his presence scarce around you since then.

It wasn't until weeks later, being informed the news of a severely injured Knives who got into a scuffle with another of his species, defending Vash who 'stole' a prized shell, that you had to look after him.

No one else was allowed in the recovery tank, Rem tried at times but Knives' aggression was too much for her this time, and she didn't want another oxygen tank exploding within the tank and shattering it. That's where you came in.

Entering the tank, you slowly approached the injured Knives, flinching at his high-pitched shriek. It wasn't until you replied with your own did he simmer down, reluctantly allowing you to treat his wounds.

This continued on for a couple weeks and each visit resulted in Knives slowly looking forward to your visits, so much so he'd curl around you while you just kept him company, updating him on his worried brother.

The moment he could return to the ocean, Knives missed you already, knowing you couldn't visit as often now that he's recovered. So he gives himself minor injuries, pathetic scrapes, or even purposely slapping a sea urchin or two onto his tail and presenting it to you with no evidence of it hurting.

Rem was quick to catch on, offering you longer breaks to be with Knives so he'd stop injuring himself no matter how minor the wound was it was making other employees wary whenever he appeared. And Knives couldn't be more happy when Vash dragged him away from a toxic jellyfish to you, instantly having the larger twin latch onto you with excited chirps and purrs.

Eventually Knives and you marked each other, sealing your mateship as he nuzzled contently into you, purring non-stop while you combed his hair.

Vash tends to wander, his favourite place is a large reef just a few kilometres from the observatory, where he collects shells, avoids getting into fights with other mermaids and just harasses the local fish.

That's where he bumped into you, literally. You were diving along with some close friends, friends that knew what you were and made sure to keep you safe. So you can imagine their surprise when a curious mermaid collided into you chasing a parrot fish.

Vash startled very quickly, hiding between some coral when he realised the group was staring at him, you were rather curious going to follow only to stop when Meryl stopped you. She signed it probably wasn't a good idea, but you at least wanted to apologise for startling him.

Approaching his hiding place, you gained his attention by sliding an iridescent shell between the spines of coral, to which the quivering mermaid chirped, revealing himself as he studied the gift. You gained Vash's attention, frowning as you chirped back at him, broken merfolk language in form of an apology.

You were very inexperienced with your father's tongue, but you knew enough to form small conversations.

The look Vash gave you was full of astonishment, eyes sparkling as his lips formed a massive smile. Placing his shell into his seaweed satchel, Vash spun you around, tugging you upside as he admired your legs. You yelped when he innocently spread your legs, trying to communicate how inappropriate it was, only this new friend didn't listen. Not until your closest friend, Wolfwood stepped in.

The overly friendly mermaid screeched at the burly man putting him in a headlock, signing if you were okay. Of course you were, just startled this curious creature was so forward.

Asking Nicholas to free the distressed mermaid, he obliged yelling as Vash hid behind you, rapid chirps and shrill clicks shot his way. You knew they were a lecture of sorts, with some colourful language that made you snort, but that's how Vash made a friend of you.

You frequented the reef often, as it was home to your father before he was poached, now the reef was under protection of the observatory a little further out. So you often visited Vash, allowing him to appropriately admired your legs and any other features he took interest in.

He'd bring you colourful shells and pearls as gifts, whereas you'd bring him either food or items he'd be allowed to keep in the ocean. It became a small tradition, one that lead to Vash making a bold move on his part.

It was another day that your friends took you for a dive, also befriending the blonde mermaid. It wasn't until you entered the water, instantly seeing Vash making a beeline for you. You were happy to see him, yelping as he collided with you, growling the moment his fangs sunk into your shoulder.

Your friends had never seen you be aggressive, not in your mermaid half way at least. When your eyes slitted, teeth forming sharp points as you screeched at the mermaid, causing Vash to return the sudden aggression as he felt justified in his actions.

Nicholas and Meryl tried separating you two, but when you surged forward sinking your own teeth a little too painfully into Vash's neck. Only then did the two settle, Vash's annoyed pouting and clicks turning into happy wiggles and nibbles of your flesh.

You still held a small grudge to being marked without warning, not that you opposed the idea, a heads up would've been nice. Now you endured endless teasing from Nicholas, proudly showing your other friends Vash's mating mark with no shame.

[rebeliz7]

MASTERLIST

Library Blog - Updated: 15-03

Disclaimer: All the fics posted on this blog have been written by me. If you feel like you read them years ago, you might have since I’m re-posting them one more time.  

I do not give permission to translate or repost my work anywhere else. Please refrain yourself from doing so. 

Stories will be tagged according to the content, so please check the warnings before you dive in. If a fic doesn’t contain a warning, then that means it’s just a fun little story that you will probably enjoy :)

I write exclusively about fem!reader, mostly top fem!reader. 

And last but not least, anon asks are open but if I get any hate again, I will shut it down and it’ll never be open again. I will not put up with that one more time. My inbox is also open if you have any questions related to my fics.

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HER - You help Natasha join the high-mile club.

Liho Romanoff - Nat fluff: adopting Liho and not expecting the cutest reaction ever from the emotionless assassin

Liho Romanoff II - Nat might be a little bit jealous of all the attention Liho gets from you.

Little piece of heaven - Pregnant reader takes matters into her own hands?

We have to stop meeting like this - Can you do Natasha x non avenger/reader where reader is very possessive and protective over her wife “Listen pal. There are two things I need from you. Number 1 is get away from my wife and number 2 is stay the hell away from my wife.” Natasha finds her wife’s treats very amusing, considering she’s the black widow and can more than well take care of herself.

Monster - Underworld!Reader.

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AUGUST MASTERLIST

The Key - Demigoddess reader navigates living among humans, and being married to one.

More than anything - Reader where Killgrave gets to the reader and forces her to fight the avengers and try to kill them and Wanda is the only one who can stop her.

Threat at first sight - You meet Wanda at the bar you work at, Nat and Sam try to intimidate you.

Naive - You inflirtate the Avengers team with a highly dangerous mission, given to you by Magneto himself.

Charmer - A request for Wanda, where people are constantly asking her out , but R says no to all of them, until on day she’s so fed up with it and spills the fact that she’s a lesbian and in love with Wanda.

PROMPTS FROM THIS LIST

The One - “I’m sorry I fell in love with you. I just… You weren’t supposed to be the one.”

Circles - “…Why didn’t you tell me this before I got into a relationship with [Character C’s name]?”