#longer walk home...35 minutes...

[yuurivoice]

BitterSweet Director's Cut......Timestamp Edition

00:00 Chapter 1.1 All In The Past

12:47 Chapter 1.2 Country Roads

21:50 Chapter 1.3 The Boys Are Fighting

32:55 Chapter 1.4 The Long Walk Home

55:30 Chapter 1.5 The Longer Walk Home

1:30:16 Chapter 1.6 Cinnamon Roll Blues

1:50:10 Chapter 1.7 Picking Up The Pieces (Of Us)

2:03:35 Chapter 1 Epilogue

2:10:45 Chapter 2.1 Home For The Holidays

2:22:18 Chapter 2.2 Can We Keep Him?

2:36:43 Chapter 2.3 Bruised And Battered

2:52:16 Chapter 2.4 Pizza Party

3:00:24 Chapter 2.5 The Winter Festival

3:17:45 Chapter 2.6 Christmas Eve Pillow Fort

3:35:05 Chapter 2 Epilogue

3:40:35 Chapter 3.1 Dark Mode

3:59:41 Chapter 3.2 Rail Road Confessions

4:15:37 Chapter 3.3 Crashing The Party

4:26:43 Chapter 3.4 Charlie The Pizza Rat

4:39:19 Chapter 3.5 No Use Crying Over Spilled Milk

4:52:52 Chapter 3.6 A Chat With Jessie

5:01:50 Chapter 3.7 Starry Night, Broken Heart

5:19:48 Chapter 3.8 Exhausting Charlie’s Dialog Options

5:33:19 Chapter 3.9 Boo’s Gambit

5:40:20 Chapter 3.10 A Race Against Time

5:57:23 Chapter 3.11 Time After Time

6:15:38 Chapter 3.12 Out With A Bang

6:43:39 Chapter 3.12 Post-Credits Scene

6:48:26 Chapter 3 Epilogue

[skywlkrhoney]

A night with a stranger

James Kelly x Fem!reader

Warnings: reader smokes and drinks beer, age gap (reader is 19 and james is 35), problems with parents slightly mentioned (don't go out with strange men on the street guys)

Author's notes: amazingly, this is purely fluff.

My back was pressed against the worn-down wall of the small neighborhood convenience store. Between the fingers of my right hand, a Marlboro Light burned slowly, releasing a pale smoke that danced lazily in the cold evening air.

The end of the day brought a paler sky, all soft tones, and the chilly wind whipped against my bare legs. I was wearing nothing but a pair of short, frayed denim shorts and a strapless white top with lace trim. My red Converse were beaten up, their best days long gone.

I took a drag off my cigarette, feeling the smoke fill my lungs with a bitter sort of relief, then exhaled slowly through my mouth. I looked around. Everything was quiet. No cars, no kids, no noise. It felt like the whole town had gone to sleep. Silence.

I dragged again, pulling in more smoke. That’s when I saw it — a black Cadillac pulling up right in front of the store. Old-school, impressive. The engine hummed low as the guy climbed out. Tall, messy black hair, wearing a worn black t-shirt. Tattoos covered his hands. Way too good-looking for a place like this

He walked around the car and headed straight for the store. Just before he went inside, he lifted his head — and looked right at me. Quick, but enough to make my heart stutter.

I stayed put, pretending not to think too hard. Alone again, waiting for something I couldn’t quite name.

A few minutes later, he came back out, carrying a case of beer in one hand and a fresh pack of cigarettes in the other. I watched him, slow and steady, as he opened the passenger door and set the beer inside with a practiced ease. Then he shut the door with a soft click and leaned back against the car like that crummy little spot was the best view in the whole town.

He pulled a cigarette from the new pack and placed it between his lips, then patted down his jeans, searching his front pockets, then the back. He mumbled something I couldn’t catch, and then, clear enough to reach me, he muttered:

“Shit.”

I lowered my cigarette and looked at him.

“Looking for a lighter?” I asked, my voice stronger than I expected.

He lifted his gaze slowly, sizing me up with a certain kind of carefulness. His blue eyes skimmed from my legs to my face and locked with mine for a second that felt longer than it should have.

“Yeah,” he rasped out, his voice low and rough.

I reached into the back pocket of my shorts and pulled out a red lighter, stretching my hand toward him. He pushed off the car and walked over, slow and steady. When he got close enough, he took the lighter from my hand — his fingers brushing against mine. He flicked the lighter, lit his cigarette, and took a drag, never taking his eyes off me.

“So,” he said, smoke curling from his lips, “what’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here all alone?”

I shrugged, taking another pull from my own cigarette.

“Got bored at home.”

He nodded once.

“Wanna beer?” he offered, tipping his chin toward the car.

I hesitated for half a second, then shrugged. “Why not?”

He turned back toward the Cadillac, popped open the door, shoved the case of beers into the backseat with one hand, and cracked one open. He held it out toward me.

I walked up, took it from him, and took a sip, feeling the cold bitterness coat my tongue. I leaned against his car, the cool metal pressing against my bare skin.

“Nice car. Vintage,” I said with a crooked little smile, glancing sideways at him.

He let out a quick breath of a laugh.

“Yeah. She’s taken me to some interesting places,” he said, dragging on his cigarette, that amused look never leaving his face. “You wanna go for a ride?”

The question hung in the air, somewhere between reckless and tempting. I thought about it for a moment. Accepting a ride from a stranger wasn’t exactly the smartest move. But there was something about him… a dangerous calm, a rugged kind of safety that made me think, maybe just for one night, it was okay to break the rules.

“Sure,” I said, taking another sip of beer and flicking my cigarette to the ground, stamping it out with my shoe. My heart was beating faster now.

He opened the passenger door for me, tossing the beer case into the backseat with a careless kind of ease, then stepped aside to let me in.

“Your chariot, princess,” he said, smirking in a way that was teasing but never disrespectful.

I laughed, feeling my stomach flip at the nickname, and climbed inside, running my hand over the cracked leather seats, breathing in the scent of cigarettes, gasoline, and something else that was just… him. I shut the door behind me and watched him round the front of the car, tossing his cigarette to the ground and crushing it beneath his boot before getting in on the driver’s side.

He turned the key, and the Cadillac rumbled to life, like a beast waking up.

Without looking at me, he smiled slightly.

“Hope you’re not on a curfew.”

I smiled back, settling into my seat, beer still in hand.

“Tonight’s wide open.”

And just like that, the Cadillac rolled down the empty road, leaving the dead-silent town behind us.

The car cut through the night like an arrow. Outside, the trees blurred into shadows against the dark sky. I leaned against the window, the cold wind whipping through my hair and sending shivers across my skin.

For a while, we didn’t say anything. Only the sound of the engine filled the space between us. It was the kind of silence that felt right.

“So…” I finally said, turning my face a little toward him. “What do you do for a living?”

He kept his eyes on the road, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I work at a garage. Spend all day covered in grease, trying to bring old junkers back to life.”

“Fits you,” I said, smiling a little.

He let out a low chuckle, still focused on the road.

“What about you? How old are you?” he asked, glancing over at me briefly.

“Nineteen,” I answered, flipping my hair over my shoulder and shifting in my seat.

I leaned forward, reaching for the old radio. I turned the dial slowly, passing through stations full of static, until a familiar song came through — “Come On” by Letters To Cleo. I smiled, satisfied, and leaned back again.

This time, I shifted completely, turning sideways and resting my back against the door, stretching my legs out across his lap, my beer can still dangling from my fingers.

James glanced at me from the corner of his eye, a small smirk playing on his lips. He pulled one hand off the wheel and set it casually on my leg, his thumb drawing slow, lazy circles against my skin. A shiver ran up my spine, but I didn’t pull away.

I closed my eyes for a second, feeling the easy rhythm of the road and the cool night air.

“So where are we headed?” I asked, my voice a little softer now.

“There’s this diner out past town,” he said, voice rough and calm. “Small place, but they make the best milkshakes you’ll ever have.”

I nodded, relaxing even more, resting my head lightly against the window as the car rolled on.

A few minutes later, we saw the lights of the diner flickering in the distance. A worn-out neon sign buzzed and blinked, half-lit, casting a ghostly glow over the old building.

James pulled into the lot and parked out front. I straightened up, pulling my legs off his lap, and pushed the door open, the night air rushing in.

We got out together, James shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Used to come here with my brother,” he said, glancing at the entrance.

I turned to him, curious.

“You have siblings?”

He nodded.

“Yeah. Just one,” he said, voice a little more guarded.

“And you?” he asked, steering the conversation back to me. “Got any brothers or sisters?”

“Nope.” I smiled a little. “Only child.”

“Must be nice. Having everything to yourself.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head.

“Not always,” I said, staring at the ground for a second. “It gets lonely sometimes.”

James didn’t say anything. He just looked at me for a long moment.

When we reached the door, he stepped ahead and opened it for me with a slight nod.

Before walking in, I spotted an old, rusted trash can beside the door. I shook the beer can — just a swallow left — and tossed it inside, hearing the hollow clang at the bottom.

James waited, patient, that small smile still playing on his lips, watching me.

Inside, the diner smelled like burgers, fries, and old coffee. The place looked like it was stuck in the ‘50s — red vinyl booths, white Formica tables, a jukebox humming in the corner. Time hadn’t touched this place.

We slid into a booth near the back, away from the jukebox and the few scattered customers.

An old man in a stained apron shuffled over to take our order. James asked for fries and a Coke. When he turned to me, I ordered a strawberry milkshake with a shy smile.

Once the old man shuffled away, James leaned back in his seat, looking at me with a relaxed gaze.

“Your parents aren’t gonna be worried about you being out this late?” he asked.

I shrugged, looking out the window.

“No,” I said quietly. “They don’t really care.”

James frowned, his jaw tightening slightly.

“With all due respect… your parents sound like assholes.”

I laughed, genuinely caught off guard.

“You’re not wrong,” I said, shaking my head with a real smile. “But I’m used to it. It’s not a big deal.”

We kept talking — light stuff. The kind of easy conversation that feels like it’s always been there.

Soon, the old man came back with a tray — fries, Coke, and a bright pink milkshake. We thanked him and dug in, stealing glances at each other between sips and bites.

Time slipped by quickly. Before I knew it, the plates were empty, and so was my milkshake.

We paid the check and headed back outside into the cold night air. James looked at me with that easy smirk again.

“So, what’d you think?” he asked as we walked toward the car.

“I loved it,” I said honestly, crossing my arms against the chill.

He opened the passenger door for me again, and just as I was about to climb in, he slipped a hand lightly around my waist — the touch firm but soft, sending butterflies loose in my stomach. My cheeks burned instantly.

I bit my lip, trying to hide a smile, and slid into the seat.

We drove in a comfortable silence back toward my house. When we pulled up, the lights inside were all out.

“They’re probably already asleep,” I said, looking at the dark windows.

When I turned back to him, James was already watching me — that intense, almost hypnotic look in his eyes.

I gave him a shy smile.

“I’m glad I met you tonight,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Way better than sitting outside that convenience store all night.”

He let out a rough laugh.

“If you ever get bored again…” he said, eyes still locked on mine, “you know where to find me.”

I laughed softly, my heart hammering.

We stared at each other for a long moment. Then, I leaned across the seat, closing the gap.

I kissed him first — soft and tentative. James didn’t hesitate. He grabbed my waist, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss. It was intense and hot, and I let out a small, helpless sound against his mouth. My fingers clutched at his arm, feeling the muscle flex under my touch.

We finally pulled apart, still breathing hard. I pressed one last kiss to his lips, smiling against his mouth before pulling away.

I climbed out of the car, still feeling lightheaded, and made my way to the front door, turning to look back one last time.

James was still there, watching me, smiling.

He gave a slow wave, and I waved back before slipping inside.

I closed the door carefully behind me and leaned against it, breathing deeply. I tiptoed down the hallway to my bedroom, careful not to wake anyone.

Once inside, I kicked off my old Converse and collapsed onto my bed, my heart still racing.

With a goofy smile on my face, I thought about him.

And I hoped I’d see him again.

[sheaabuttaababyy]

Mood swings - RR

Pairing: Roman x Kimora

Short Fluff

The sounds of buzzing filled the room as Joe sat in a chair at the barber shop. His barber Larry was cutting his hair as he received a message from his wife.

Wifey💍💗: Babe when you coming home? You’ve been gone for so long.

Joe bear ❤️🐻: sweetheart It hasn’t even been an hour😂

Wifey💍💗: I don’t care you’ve been gone too long. I miss you.

He sighed going to her contact. "Hey man. Do you mind if I call my wife? I just need to checkup on her"

"Nah go ahead man, it’s no problem" Larry waved off before continuing to trim Joes hair.

FaceTiming her it rung twice, before seeing her gorgeous face pop up.

"Hey baby. You okay?" He asked seeing a slight frown on her face.

"No. I miss you can you come home please"

"Ki I’ve only been gone 35 minutes" he laughed, But Kimora didn’t find shit funny. She just wanted him home.

"I knoww but I just want you to hold me and rub my stomach"

He heard her voice crack making his heart ache. "Okay baby I’ll be home in 25 minutes. Okay?"

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise. I love you I’ll see you soon"

"Love you too. 25 minutes Joe." She pointed her finger at him through the screen before hanging up.

Larry let out a whistle making Joe look at him. "Damn bro. She has you wrapped around her finger."

Joe smiled at his words nodding his head. "She really does, and I’m not even mad about it."

At home Kimora laid in her and Joe’s bed naked, Watching The game. A bowl of cut up pickles and hot sauce sitting on her 8 and half month belly.

"Derwin foul as fuck for that" she spoke to herself seeing Derwin cheating on Melanie.

She heard the bedroom door open, seeing Joe walk in looking fine as fuck in his black hoodie and matching shorts, with a bag in his hand.

"Hey baby" Placing the bag down by the bed he took off his hoodie, and shirt leaving him shirtless.

Lifting the covers up he got into the bed. Once he got comfortable he tried to pull Kimora into him but she pushed his hands away. Leaving him confused.

Scooting up to her side he tried placing a kiss on her cheek but she swerved it. Leaning back he sighed burning a hole into the side of her head. Kimora just staring at the TV.

"What did I do now?"Joe was used to this already. He had to deal with it everyday, since she got pregnant.

"You said 25 minutes…it’s been 40" ki crossed her arms finally turning her head to look at her husband, who was smiling.

"That’s why your mad? Kimora if you don’t scoot your ass over here and cuddle with me."

"No you lied. I don’t want wanna lay up with a liar." She crossed her arms scooting away from him.

Joe laughed at her dramatics "Alright. I guess I’ll just go to the living room and watch Tv by myself"

Kimora’s head whipped to him real quick at his words. Yeah she was annoyed yeah, and being overly dramatic. But she didn’t want him to go.

he got out the bed, grabbing the plastic bag that had all of Kimora’s favourite snacks. Also the reason why he took longer than 25 minutes.

"Here" he placed the bag on the bed giving her forehead and swollen stomach a kiss.

Taking a peek Ki saw all of her favourite foods. She started to feel guilty for being rude, as she realized that’s the reason why he took so long.

Grabbing his iPad and glasses, Joe left the room. Leaving Kimora in her thoughts.

Tears built up in her eyes as she grabbed the chips from the bag. Sniffling she opened it before stuffing her mouth with Doritos.

She ate some more silently as tears ran down her face. Licking her fingers clean she got up slowly going to washroom, washing her hands.

Grabbing her brown silk robe she put it on making her way to the living room where Joe was.

Going into the living room she saw him watching a YouTube video on his iPad with his glasses on.

Standing at the end of the couch she watched him, feeling sad again. How could she be so rude to him? He was just a giant, tatted, loving teddy bear.

Looking up from the screen he sent her a smile. Seeing the pout on her face he turned off the device, placing it beside him. Opening up his arms he gestured his wife over to him.

She went over to him laying sideways in his lap. She took a deep breath before bursting out crying. Making Joe rock her back and forth.

"I’m sorry I was so mean to you. You’ve been such a good husband. And all I do is have an attitude."

Joe let out a laugh as she spoke. "Baby. Baby it’s okay" he rubbed his hand up and down her back as little sniffles left her body.

"It’s not okay. Your so good to me and you have to deal with me. I’m sorry if I’m too much for you"

"Let me stop you right there. Your not too much for me to handle. Your carrying our child Kimora. That’s a beautiful thing and I’ve been through every moment of it. Your my wife, and I love you and I’ll continue to be here and take every step of the way with you. We’re in this together."

"Awhh Joe" she leaned in kissing his lips softly which he happily returned. "I love you so much" she spoke against his lips.

They both pulled away smiling as Joe placed one last peck on her lips. "You wanna go back in bed and cuddle?"

"Yes please I wanna be in your skin" getting off Joe’s lap with his help. Slowly she waddled to the stairs with her hand on her belly. Joe following her watching her in awe.

The two were in bed Joe in his boxers as Kimora was fully nude. Since she got pregnant, wearing clothes really irritated for some reason. So when she was at home. In her safe place she would always sleep and walk around naked.

Her right leg was across his torso, her head resting on his chest

"What about Alex?" Joe questioned as he kneaded Kimora’s ass with his right hand as his left was caressing her stomach. They were currently talking about baby names.

"Alex is so basic. No."

"Jaxon?"

"Mmm…no" Damn she’s picky Joe thought.

"What about…Josiah?"

"Josiah…Josiah" Kimora tested the name on her tongue, before a smile broke on her face. "I love it."

"Yeah?" Joe leaned down kissing her forehead. "Yeah. I think that should be baby boys name"

Joe felt a movement on his hand. Looking down at his wife’s stomach he saw an outline of little foot, pressed up her stomach.

He saw the little feet kick again. Feeling their baby kick the area of Joe’s hand that was resting on Kimora’s belly.

"Oh wow. I think he really liked that name." Joe had a goofy smile on his as he scooted down so his head was leaning against Ki’s swollen belly.

He started talking to their baby through her stomach. "Im gonna love and protect you, I can’t wait for you to meet mommy and daddy" Joe spoke kissing and caressing her tummy.

A big smile was on Kimora’s face listening to her husband continue to talk to their child, her heart feeling warm and full.

🏷 Taglist: @usoinked @mselenalovebug @theusotwinzcom @bloodlineslut @urbeez @luvrsluxe @trippinsorrows @catxo @whowrotethenote

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[mr2swap]

The great shift: a stinking symbiotic relationship

I came home empty-handed, I hadn't even been able to get a job as a cashier at McDonald's, but I can't blame them who would hire an overweight middle-aged man like me... A lot of things are different since the Great Shift, but I guess that some things remain the same, I opened the door to my apartment and the first thing I looked at was my old body sitting on the couch with an annoyed look.

-Dude, What the fuck? You were supposed to be here 35 minutes ago, my phone is blowing up with messages on our subscribers! You know them, they can't wait a minute for any of this! -

Gary Muller, my roommate and my “business partner,” flexed one of his enormous biceps until the shirt that covered the muscular and perfect body that used to belong to me almost burst, then with one of his long fingers he pointed to one of his armpits that for a moment They were dry.

Gary took off his shirt, revealing the body he used to look at every day in the mirror, grabbed a pair of dumbbells that were on the floor and started working out for our afternoon show.

-Yeah... I'm sorry, I went to a couple of job interviews, and they went a little longer than I thought, just... let me change while you train a little-

He just ignored me and went about his business while I walked into our apartment. I had heard that many people ended up in bodies thousands of miles away because of the Great Shift, but me and Gary living next to each other was a strange coincidence.

I didn't know anything about Gary before all this. Furthermore, I only considered him as the old man who lived next to me, sometimes in the mornings while my uncle went to the gym I could see him leaving the building, dressed in a cheap suit and heading to his office job. It was a surprise for me, One day I woke up in his apartment with his old body.

 The Real Gary was as surprised as I was, the first time I saw my old body from Gary's perspective I was speechless, there was an expression of confusion on that beautiful, symmetrically perfect face, the long, muscular arms of which I used to be so proud now they were in someone else's possession, but the worst of all was how short I was now. The height difference between us was enormous, while I was almost two meters tall Gary was 1.50 CM Even some children They are taller than me now.

But over time I got used to Gary's horrible old body... every day I prayed to get my old life back, but every day I woke up with horrible back pain and with a face older than my father's, perhaps the most strange now is the hair, Gary started going bald since high school and when he turned 30 he decided to shave all his hair, Gary's bathroom was full of hair growth products that hadn't worked for years.

And while I was suffering from trying not to adapt to the life of a 48-year-old, the real Gary was enjoying his new youth and his new muscular body. I learned that people treat you very differently when you look like a damn stud instead of a wrinkled Troll.

He could hear through the walls like the real home, and he had fun with my body and with all the boys I brought to my old apartment every night, I had never realized how thin the walls were in this building Until for the first time I heard the powerful moans of my old voice at the same time that Gary used my cock to fornicate another man.

Time passed and society continued on its path, for me, it was surprisingly fast how the government recovered from all this. But there was only one problem, there were a lot of unemployed people everywhere, and among all of them was me.

I used to work at the local gym as a trainer, but with this body that had never been in a gym in its entire life, I was quickly fired. On the other hand, Gary's company went bankrupt when most of the investors ended up in young bodies And they decided to sell the company.

As the days went by, Gary and I became somewhat of friends, I helped him with exercise routines and taught him about the nutrition My body needed, We decided that it would be much cheaper for both of us to live together while all this was resolved, And I returned to my old apartment, but I felt like a stranger among my own things. I settled in the smallest room surrounded by my training equipment that was totally useless to me now, everything was too heavy.

Living with Gary was certainly better than living on the street, But every day it made me reconsider if that was true, Unsuccessfully I tried to get a damn job, so I could get out of that apartment and start my life over in Gary's weak old body. I felt like a parasite even with Gary, he paid the rent and all the house services.

On top of that, he used to party every night and hang out with his new gym friends during the day, it was a total mystery to me how he made so much money... until I started receiving some strange messages on my old Instagram account. .

“Hey buddy, was this your body?”

“Dude, are you DaddyGary?”

“Damn, you had such a hot body… I always knew what was under those shorts, you didn't disappoint me.”

It wasn't hard to realize that Gary had been making his filthy armpit fetish porn for those desperate gays. I felt so dirty watching the videos of my old body worshiping his sweaty armpits after the gym.

I immediately confronted Gary about it, and surprisingly he admitted it very quickly. He didn't seem embarrassed, or sorry for doing it, I could even notice a slight mocking smile on his face as I told him how humiliated I felt while a bunch of perverted men masturbated with my stinky armpits.

It was at that moment when those words from Gary sealed the destiny I am living in now.

-Those “disgusting” things like you call them are what pay the rent for this place and keep your old ass from sleeping in some dumpster. And if you want to continue sleeping in your comfortable bed, it's time for you to start contributing a little money, and I know how you can do it... Come here -

He flexed both arms showing his armpits, I was surprised to see that he had recently shaved his armpits, eliminating all the wild hair that I previously kept in my sweaty pits, I... I couldn't control myself, I don't think he's homosexual, but the powerful musk of my old armpits made me react like a bee to honey.

Gary took his phone and started recording me while he worshiped his wet armpits with my tongue.

-You like it, right?… “Gary” Do you like the taste of your old body? Can you believe this used to be me? Damn, You really are pathetic, “Gary” -

It had been several days since I had ejaculated, I had thought Gary's body had erectile dysfunction or something, but at that moment my little cock was hard as a rock and hot as hell. I had never felt this way, my head was completely clouded by the addictive testosterone filled aroma of my old armpits.

-Look friends, “Gary” is jerking off, it seems like he still misses his old body... Maybe we should let him play with him another time...-

Hello, if you liked this story and you want more, you can take a look at my Ko-Fi page to see my most recent stories, see my new stories and support me to continue creating this hot content.

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 9 🍒

"First Time for Everything"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 3,251

Summary: a continuance from Chapter 8 - pizza, movies, and.. dessert 

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, adult language, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), takes place in summer 2003, fluff, idiots in love, secret relationship, underage drinking (reader drinks a beer), horny!Joel, bit of an innocence kink, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), reader has some experience w/oral), open conversation about sex & experience, daddy kink, use of nicknames (daddy, babygirl, cumslut), come eating, softDom!Joel, reader's race not mentioned but described as tomboyish, reader has hair long enough for Joel to grab, no use of y/n (if I missed any tags lemme know!)

Author's Note: more smut. but, like, romantic smut. I know there's been a few mentions of underage drinking, I'm just going by my own experiences at that age. If you want to drink, wait until you're 21!

Series Masterlist

It's late when the rain stops and even then you and Joel are oblivious to it, lost in each other, sweaty, satiated though all you've done is touch and kiss. You could do more, but the park is closing and so you clean up as best you can and get dressed to head back to your car.

On the drive back, you hold hands. Your skin is warm, your heart is singing. You're in love for the first time in your life. No longer shy, you can't help admiring Joel, watching him as he drives, your body humming pleasantly each time he looks at you and gives you that damn smirk. You love him and he loves you. It's too wondrous a possibility to wrap your mind around.

Your car is the only one in the Starbucks parking lot. "You oughta start parkin' underneath the light poles, you'll be safer that way," Joel tells you, his finger stroking your bare thigh.

"But I like parking near the front," you tell him, even as you delight in this little intimate gesture of his.

"Don't be stubborn." His voice holds a hint of authority. You playfully grumble and kiss his cheek. He walks you to your car, holding your hand, ever your knight in t-shirt and jeans. "Is that a Toyota Tercel? You know they stopped makin' these five years ago," he teases you.

"It was my dad's," you say with more solemnity than you realize. He puts his arm around you and you lean into him where it's warm and safe. "I'm surprised no one's broken into it yet. It doesn't lock."

Joel laughs, a deep grumble that always brings a smile to your face. "Jesus, girl. You are a mess."

"Yeah, but you love me."

He kisses you softly on the mouth. "Bet your ass I do. We still on for tonight?"

"Absolutely. And thanks for the ride."

"Which one?"

You give him a confused look until you see him break into a playful grin. Laughing, you hit his arm. "I'll see you at the house in a bit. I'm sure we both need to shower after that ride."

He nods a little sheepishly. "I'll follow you home to make sure you get there safe."

And even though you only live ten minutes away from the cafe, you are moved by his protectiveness.

You and Joel have agreed to keep your feelings for each other private from Sarah, at least for now, while it's still new for both of you. You have to act normal around him and it feels unnatural because what is natural is wrapping your arms around him and pressing your lips to his neck where you can feel his pulse beneath your kiss.

After pizza, the three of you settle down to watch a movie. You like the feeling of being with family, even if it's not necessarily your own. "What did y'all decide on?"

"I want to watch a horror movie," Sarah answers you with confidence.

"You'll get nightmares," Joel warns her. "Why don't we let our guest choose?"

"I'm a huge horror fan, so I'm sure I'll love whatever you have in mind," you tell Sarah.

"'Nightmare on Elm Street,'" she replies right away and you can see Joel rolling his eyes behind her.

You stifle a smirk. "A classic. Let's get started."

On the sofa, you and Sarah sit on either side of Joel. Sarah leans her head on her dad's shoulder and you take hold of his hand, hiding it between your laps. With the lights down and the movie playing on the TV you have the urge to cuddle up with him, hoping for a moment soon when you can do exactly that.

A particularly scary jump scene startles you and you hide your face in Joel's shoulder before you even realize what you're doing. "Sorry," you whisper, straightening up. Joel give you a soft smile and Sarah giggles at you from the other side of him. Every now and then she takes a glimpse at you and at Joel, unbeknownst to you.

"Well, I'm not going to sleep anytime soon," you announce when the credits start rolling. "Wanna take a stretch and then watch another?"

Sarah's half-asleep on Joel's shoulder. "I'm ready for a break, Dad.." she mumbles.

You smile. "I can't blame her. We did get a late start on the evening. You think maybe we should call it a night?" But the truth is you're not ready to go home.

Joel laughs. "I swear, this girl loves to try to keep me awake till 2 in the mornin' watchin' movies most of the time. I think I better get her to bed."

You smile. "Of course. I'll be here." With a pang of jealousy you watch as Joel carries Sarah upstairs to her room. When was the last time your father did that for you? You open a couple bottles of beer and hand one to Joel when he comes back downstairs. "You're so good to her.. you're a good dad."

He sits back on the couch with you, taking a swig of beer. "Yeah.. I try my best for her. She's my whole world and I would do anything for her."

"That's how it should be. I wish my own dad had stuck around." You rest your head on Joel's shoulder, which you wish you'd done earlier.

He frowns. "I'm sorry your dad didn't stick around. But I'm here, sweetheart, and I'm not goin' anywhere."

You return his gaze, absorbing the significance of his words. "I know," you tell him, and lean in to kiss him. He holds you close and you taste the beer on his tongue as he explores your mouth. His fingers run through your hair and you moan as quietly as possible, wrapping your arms around him.

Softly breaking the kiss you ask, "What do you think? Should we start another movie?"

He smirks and sets you on his lap crosswise. "Not if it means I have to keep my hands off ya. Let's just.. get comfortable."

"Mm. How comfortable?" You nuzzle his neck, taking in his scent, wanting to extend this pure moment for as long as you can.

He answers you with a kiss, sweeping your hair away from your face before his hand drops down to trace across the top of your breast. You bring his hand beneath your top. "No bra? You naughty thing," he murmurs against your lips.

"You should see what else I'm missing.."

He practically salivates as he delicately reaches past the waistband of your bottoms. "No panties either." His voice is guttural, utterly primal. "Girl, what are you doin' to me?"

You press his hand further down and watch the change of expression on his face: his eyes close and his jaw tightens. The next moment he's tugging off your bottoms for better access to you.

"Wait!" you whisper, halting his progress. "Not with Sarah in the house!"

"She's a deep sleeper," he says quickly, eager to continue, licking his lips.

"Joel" you scold.

"Third step from the top has a creak. We'll hear her if she comes down."

"I mean it!" you insist. "Let's go to my place. It's empty tonight."

The speed with which you both race next door is impressive. In your room, the lights dim, Joel asks you, "Are we doin' this?"

You hesitate. In truth you were just going on pure impulse. "I just want to explore you. And I want you to explore me."

Your admission makes him growl. "Little girl, you have no idea how much I want that. I've been thinkin' about our moment in the truck all night. I barely paid attention to the movie. I was wonderin' what else you would allow me to do to you."

"Joel," you moan, and pull him on top of you on your bed. "I want your hands on me. I want you to make me come again."

It's all he can do to not rip your clothes right off you. He forces himself to go slow, starting with your shirt, pulling it off to reveal those breasts he loves to lavish attention on. He palms each one in his large hands, nibbling and swirling his tongue around your nipples, sending ripples of pleasure straight to your cunt. You're already wet for him, which he discovers when he pulls down your bottoms, revealing yourself to him once more. "Such a pretty little virgin pussy, and it's all for me," he rumbles.

There's something intimidating about being laid bare this way. The hungry look in his eyes is reminiscent of a lion stalking its prey. It's the gentle touch of his fingers at your entrance that snap you out of your apprehension. Crazy to think this man would ever hurt you. One finger presses in, testing your resistance. You give a sharp intake of breath and close your eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

You nod. "More."

He grins. "Patience." He strokes that one finger inside you, exploring. You make a little sighing sound and the look on Joel's face is obvious that he's trying like hell to hold back.

Slowly he inserts another finger. It's slightly uncomfortable but you're growing more wet with each pump of his hand. He swipes the pad of his thumb across your clit and you clench around his digits, eliciting a small gasp and praise from Joel. "Atta girl. Just like that. No need to rush. Oh you're so fuckin' tight.." He dips down to kiss you, his tongue invading your mouth once more as he fingers you. "Do you want to try three?" he rasps into your ear, lightly kissing your neck.

"Yes," you say as your heart jumps and once again you clench around his fingers. You feel that third digit stretching you out. He pumps his hand slowly, treating you with the utmost care. "See? You can take it. And soon you'll be able to take all of me." He presses a kiss to your neck, your collarbone, your chest, both breasts, and down to your stomach. Anticipation surges in your veins. You've had so little experience and Joel keeps surprising you. Each kiss upon your skin is like a lick of fire.

"Sweetheart," he murmurs as his lips move lower. You timidly part your legs and he raises your knees. "You're glistening like ripe fuckin' fruit, baby. And I wanna taste ya." He takes your impatient moan as a green light and dips his head to your cunt using his broad tongue to lick a slow stripe upwards, smiling when your legs shake. His tongue laps across your folds, teasing each little crevice before finally delving inside you. Your fingers find their way through his hair, your senses consumed with desire. "Joel.. yes!" And all other thoughts vacate your brain. Joel gives a muffled groan that vibrates against your cunt. "Oh, sweetheart, you taste so good."

You pick up your head, resting back on your elbows, and your eyes lock with his for a few sweet, burning moments. "Damn, Joel.." This image is going to be something you'll think about years from now, the sight of Joel Miller feasting on your pussy like it's his last fucking meal. His arms are wrapped around your thighs, his biceps protruding as he keeps you where he wants you. His tongue makes small circles against your clit. You whimper something completely unintelligible, grabbing his hair as you lift your hips to give him access to every part of you. Your back arches and you give a deep groan, followed by several staccato, high-pitched gasps. "Joel.. I'm gonna come!" Your nails dig into his shoulders.

"Yes, babygirl, come for me," he growls and suctions his lips around your clit. You cry out as your orgasm uncoils in the pit of your stomach. It grows and grows, radiating outward to your limbs and claims you as you give a long low moan and you press yourself to his eager mouth.

"Jesus, baby, you're makin' a mess on me," he chuckles, and you feel him lick up every last drop. "You're so fuckin' delicious. I want more."

Your mind is a sweet blank nothingness, your body completely satisfied. "I've never ever felt like that before," you whisper, meeting his gaze again. The lovingly playful look in his eyes is like an arrow to your heart. "More? I think if I have any more I'll have a heart attack." But his tongue is back, carefully avoiding your sensitive clit, lapping at each fold and planting kisses on your inner thighs until you beg for release again. Then he's sucking your clit with three fingers inside you, less gentle this time. Joel wrenches another, stronger, sweeter release from you and it's a good thing you're alone because you've never been so loud in your life.

"Damn, babygirl.. I could do this all night.."

You lose track of how long he eats you out and how many times you come, but eventually you need a respite from the onslaught of pleasure he gives you. Trying to catch your breath, Joel rests his head on your belly as you stroke his hair. The glow of the fairy lights on your headboard adds to the dreaminess of your post-orgasm tranquility. "I think I love you even more now," you whisper, and excitement builds up when he moves over you to kiss you. You taste yourself on his mouth, sharing your essence. And you can feel him through his jeans, hard against your thigh. You've been the only one receiving pleasure and you find that unfair. "I want to go down on you," you tell him.

His brows raise and you feel him grow even harder at your thigh. "Really?" He's holding back his excitement. "Only if you want to."

"I do. I like it.. that's as far as I ever went with my ex, Trevor. He wouldn't do me but I'd do him. I'm confident in my ability," you give a saucy grin.

He doesn't even blink when you mention your ex. "What an idiot to pass up on this sweet little pussy," he rumbles. His hand wanders down to the V of your legs and you smirk and remove his hand.

"I said, it's your turn. I want to make you come, and this will suffice until I'm ready for the real thing." You move onto your side, comfortable now with your nakedness because from his eyes you see you have him in thrall. "You're wearing too many clothes."

You laugh when you see just how quickly he sheds his shirt and jeans, as eager as a boy your own age. His erection juts out, tenting his boxers. Biting your lip you pull down the waistband. You commit this moment to memory, as if seeing it in slow motion. You watch in awe as his cock springs to life. "Oh my god," you whisper.

Joel smiles at your reaction. His arms are crossed behind his head. "Let me guess: I'm givin' you more to work with than he ever did?" You wordlessly nod and he puts a hand on your thigh. "Do you want it, babygirl?"

Thick. Long. Your brain can only construct basic descriptions. The base of his cock springs up from a neat nest of short, curly brown hair. A vein bulges out alongside the top, and you follow with your eyes then your hands the slight curve towards the end, the way the top half is almost a rosy pink color, and the large head that is already moist with precum. You swipe your thumb over the top and Joel hisses in pleasure. It's heavy in your hand. You give his cock a few trial pumps, feeling him flex beneath your touch. Fuck, I'm lucky. Mouth watering, you dip your head to taste him. You swirl your tongue around his very sensitive head, holding the base with your hand. Joel gives another intake of breath and you smile. Relaxing your throat you breathe through your nose as you take in the first few inches in your mouth, using your hand on his base to stroke. There's no way you'd be able to take the entirety of him down your throat, but you love the thought of trying. You bring as much of him as you can until you begin to gag, then stroke him with your saliva. As Joel watches you you can see the darkness of his gaze, the expression changing from one of powerfulness to longing to submission. And it's because of you. "I love the way you look, all laid out comfortable for me.. it's so hot." He groans again and gathers your hair back into a makeshift ponytail, gently guiding you up and down as you suck.

Your hair is tousled, eyes shining bright, lips swollen and wet. "I think you're so close, Joel.. let me help you."

"You look so fuckin' beautiful like that. Just tell me where you want it, babygirl. I might not last much longer."

You pause only a moment, wondering what he means. In the past, your ex would typically finish in a Kleenex, so you've never had a guy come in your mouth before. But where else would it go?

"Come wherever you want, daddy.." you tell him.

He stops you mid-suck. His eyes have a look you've never seen before. "What.. what did you call me?"

You realize it too late. "Daddy," you say, caught up in the moment. "Where does daddy want his babygirl to have his cum?"

It's as if you've released the Devil himself. "Down your fuckin' throat. I want to watch my babygirl swallow every drop like a good little cumslut."

You've never talked dirty to someone before, but this first time has you worked up like never before. "Cum in my mouth, daddy, give me my little reward.."

With a groan Joel tenses up, hips bucking up to thrust into your mouth. You feel his cock begin to swell and then it twitches as several jets of his warm jizz hit the back of your throat and tongue. It's thick and salty, but not unpleasant. The hottest thing about it is the way he looks at you as you take in every last drop.

You're laying side by side, breathing hard, both riding a euphoric high. The intensity of your intimacy has brought you closer together, and if you're honest, your love for him has deepened.

"You were amazing, sweetheart.. guess I didn't mean to sound so harsh to you in those last few moments. I apologize," he says.

"Not at all.. I thought it was pretty hot. It made everything more intense between us. I kinda felt like.. I don't know, like a porn star or something."

"Careful, you're gonna get me going again," he warned in a semi-playful manner. "That might've been the best I ever had." He scoffs and rubs his hands over his eyes. "Did I just say that out loud?"

"You did," you snuggle against him, your nakedness against his. "Isn't that a cliche? Don't you tell that to all your women?" you tease him.

"It's never been like this with anyone else," he says, looking into your eyes and kissing your forehead.

You touch his cheek. The roughness of his beard tickles your hand and you're pink between your thighs where his beard scratched you just moments ago. "I guess there's a first time for everything.."

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dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

[princess-ish-shit]

WOUNDED

based off a lil anon request! i did tweak it but i hope you still enjoy !! also i write but am new to the whole one shots and such so if you hate it 😪 then i’m so sorry, but i’m learning!

Contains: age gap (Sevika is 35 reader is 22), mentions of violence, slight angst, fluff fluff fluff

1.8k words

You had been nineteen when Silco had taken you under his wing, brought in from the streets. Having no family, no ties, no connections.

Sevika had always been there. Always. When Silco had brought you in, when you had first learned to fight, when you had gotten drunk for the first time, when you had… you get the point. She said little to you, never engaged with you, but she and Silco, your self proclaimed ‘dad’ (although you were far too old to be his actual daughter), were obviously close, seeing as she worked for him. You knew she watched, knew she was observing from afar.

You had watched her as well. Watched how she trained, watched when she would play cards and drink, watched when she would be speaking in hushed tones with Silco, and whenever she was around really. It sounds creepy, I know… but it was yearning, longing glances, and noticing when she walked in the room. Of course Sevika was far too old for you and you were sure she found you a nuisance, but you had had a small crush on her from the moment you laid eyes on her and since then your attention could not be taken away from her when she was near.

You, however, were unaware her feelings were the same.

Sevika would never admit it but the minute she saw you she knew you were different. She would never admit that she felt anything remotely positive toward you.. not negative either, just… neutral. Her protective instinct had kicked in immediately and she had watched over you ever since. Had watched you become the woman you were and had, to her dismay, developed feelings for you. Though she would never admit to that. You were like her boss's daughter and you were far too young for Sevika.

But she was always watching, always there in case of emergency, but she kept her distance.

She had left that morning. You had been sitting in the common area of the small shacked up place you called home behind The Last Drop. Jinx had been tinkering on the other side of the room, Silco having dropped in to inform you that you had to work today due to most of the crew going out on a highly important job. Sevika had come in to speak to Silco and you had shot a small, soft smile at her, Sevika’s eyes briefly passing over you with no expression before settling on Silco. You had tried to stop the frown forming on your face but it had been hard.

You had been so upset and embarrassed that you hadn’t noticed a small, barely there frown form on Sevika’s face. She hadn’t intended to make your sweet self sad. A part of her wanted to go to you and cup your cheeks and force you to smile again. But, of course, that would be wildly inappropriate. All Sevika could do was wish you’d look back up at her so she could remedy the situation by sending a smile your way or… she didn’t know.. something.

Now, here you were behind the bar, this being the only job Silco actually let you do, due to your lack of fighting skills, and let's be honest… your lack of interest in wanting to fight. It had been a long morning and even longer stretching into the afternoon. You had seen some of the crew come in earlier looking beat and worn from the job but hadn’t seen Sevika, who was usually with them. You sighed and continued drying out glasses when the front doors of ‘The Last Drop’ opened and there were three crew members coming in, shouting.

But your eyes only saw her, in between her two comrades, pale, limping, head hung low. There were already people rushing to help so you stood back, people in the bar turning to see the commotion, some of the crew ushering the trio to the back. You only watched, worry flooding you, the urge to go after her and just be with her so strong you could barely contain it. But you refrained, you couldn’t, you wouldn’t do it.

The rest of the evening went by agonizingly slow. The bar was busy but your thoughts were on her. None of the crew had been back out and worry gnawed at your stomach. You had broken several glasses and had forgotten to get drinks to people who had ordered over a half hour ago. The night had been a mess but soon your shift was over, the late night workers coming in to take over. You thanked them and quietly slipped to the back.

It was quiet as you walked into the living space behind the bar. You quietly walked down the hall, your shared room being one of the first doors, but you passed it.

Sevika’s was at the end, across from Silco’s quarters. You stood in front of the door for a long time, waiting, listening, measuring whether or not you should knock or just go to bed.

Just as you were about to turn on your heel back to your room the door was opening and Silco was standing there, eye widening at the sight of you. Your own eyes widened and you stumbled over words to explain why you were there at this hour. Silco didn’t let you get far into your mumbling before his hand was on your shoulder.

“She’ll be glad to see you.”

Your eyes widened again and you were quiet. Sevika? Glad to see you? You doubted that, and your face said as much. Silco lifted your chin, “You are unaware of how much I see and know, my girl. She will be glad to see you. Go.”

He didn’t say another word and slipped past you, leaving the door open and you standing there, peering into the dimly lit room. You saw her sitting, back to you. You were debating again if you should just close the door and leave when you heard her.

“Are you coming in or not?” Gruff, quiet, rough, almost harsh you thought, but no, that wasn’t it… her tone was soft.

You took a deep breath and stepped in the room, closing the door behind you but only getting that far and freezing in your place again.

“Well don’t just stand there. I need help wrapping my stomach.”

Sevika still hadn’t turned to look at you but her words set you into motion and you quietly but quickly padded over to her, standing next to the seat.

“I- how… I don’t know what to do.”

She looked up then and your eyes were lost in hers, breath caught. Sevika was also taken aback and her eyes widened slightly. There was a moment between the two of you until Sevika cleared her throat, “It’s already been cleaned, so you’ll need to grab the wrap right there on the floor. You’ll be best on your knees and I’ll sit up so you can reach around.”

You gave a soft single nod and followed the few instructions, kneeling comfortably in front of Sevika and grabbing the bandage wrap. You looked up for further instruction and you found Sevika already looking down at you, eyes the softest you had ever seen them. Sevika held your gaze again, taking a few measured breaths.

She didn’t break it this time, and you didn’t think she would have if you hadn’t which made your breath hitch. You awkwardly fiddle with the bandage in your hand before asking, “So how do I do this?”

Sevika hesitates but answers, in a low, gentle voice, and explains how to wrap the bandage. You take a deep breath and then nod, starting to wrap the bandage as she instructs. You have to wrap your arms around her to reach around and your face comes into close contact with her abdomen. It’s a difficult task to regulate your breathing as you continue.

It’s quiet for a few moments as you carefully wrap Sevika’s wound. You feel her eyes on you and do your best to follow her instructions, wrapping it securely but not tight enough it will hurt. Sevika instructs you how to finish and you sit back on your heels after you’re done, glancing up at her for approval.

And there are her grey eyes again, already staring intently at you and you blush. “Did I do ok?” You ask softly, somewhat nervous.

Sevika waits for a moment, just looking at you kneeling before her, before she starts to answer but stops herself and just nods. You smile softly and give a single nod back, beginning to stand, “I guess I’ll take my leave then… let me know if you need any further help.”

You stand fully and are about to start walking to the door when her flesh hand reaches out, grabbing your wrist. Your eyes widen as she speaks, “Wait.”

You look down at her form, now freshly bandaged, sitting on the cozy looking chair.

“Stay.”

You are stunned and stutter out something but she stops you.

“It wasn’t a question. Stay. Sit.”

Your eyes widen as she gestures to a comfortable looking couch on the other side of the rug. You hesistate but end up making your way over to sit, now facing her only a few feet from where you had been kneeling moments ago. You look at your hands in your lap before looking up at Sevika, who is, once again, already looking at you. Silence fills the space between you as you both stare. The first time you’ve looked at her and she’s been looking back, not with disgust or hate or dislike, but with something softer. You don’t know why but your eyes well up with tears. Sevika notices and stands slowly, walking to the couch, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks. And now she’s kneeling before you, looking into your glassy eyes with concern. You look away, embarrassed but a large calloused hand cups your jaw and you’re looking at her again.

“Don’t… don’t look away from me.”

“I- Sevika…”

“I don’t hate you.” Your eyes widen at her sudden admission and you are struck speechless.

She takes this as a sign to continue, seizing the opportunity, “I don’t hate you, I never have, and I don’t think I ever could. No… I know I could never hate you.” You go to stop her but she plows through, “I like you. I always have and I told myself you were too young, that it could never be, that my lifestyle was too dangerous, that- that I wasn’t good enough for someone as innocent and whole as you.”

You feel your heart crumble.

“I like you. No, I love you. And I’m sorry I ever made you feel different-“ Your arms are around her neck as you launch off the couch, being mindful of her recently wrapped wound. Her arm instinctively wrap around your waist, drawing you closer.

“I do too, you know.” You whisper in her ear, voice cracking slightly, tears still rolling down your cheeks but not because you’re sad this time.

“Yea? You what?” You hear the smirk in her voice but also the soft tenderness.

“I love you, Sevika.”

[feralfangirll]

Pantythief!Kirishima consumes my waking thoughts…

Because he’s such a sweet boy. The perfect guy roommate. You feel so safe and protected with your big, strong guard-dog guy friend sleeping next door to you. He’s relatively clean and appreciates every household task you do around the apartment. He’s respectful, never makes you feel uncomfortable when you’re walking around in your little pajamas in the morning sipping your coffee and watering the plants. He doesn’t bring random girls home ever… at first it was odd to you that a pro hero as cute at Eijiro never had one night stands but the more you got to know him you realized it just wasn’t a very him thing to do. He was just so good.

Except for the dirty little habit he’d picked up since you moved in.

You were just so pretty and trusted him so much. So sweet. Your cute little smile. Your soft hands. Your angelic voice. It was too much and as strong of a man as he was, it was too tempting.

He always noticed the cute little panties you’d flit around the house in on early mornings while you sipped your coffee and watered your plants. He knew every pair by heart. He loved the boyshorts most of all. The way they hugged your round ass, perfectly plump and toned… the way they rode up and wedgied between the two perfect fat mounds of your ass made his head fuzzy and his cock twitch in his boxers as he leaned against the counter and watched you bend to water a low plant.

After a long week of patrols and reports, his favorite day of the week finally came around. Wednesday was his day off, and even though he wanted to sleep in more than anything, he was not one to miss opportunity when it was given. You slipped into your morning shower at exactly 6:05, throwing off your oversized tshirt and a pair of lacy red boyshorts and dropping them into the hamper by the door. By 6:34 you are out the door and off to do your morning patrol. And at 6:35 the red lacy panties had found their new spot resting on Kiri’s face while he lay starfished in his bed, cock aching against his gray sweatpants.

He loved Wednesdays because he could take his time. He’d inhale your scent until he was dizzy, sometimes sucking on the slightly damp sticky fabric that had been pressed to your sweet little cunt only minutes prior… like he is right now. Groaning into the fabric. Hands twitching to reach for his rock hard bulge and free it from its confines. Brows furrowed in frustration and need as his spit mixes with the slick left on your panties from the night before… what had you so wet? Had you touched yourself in these? Were you thinking about someone? Was it him? He likes to imagine it was… your sweet little fingers slipping over that sensitive little nub, your other hand clamped over your mouth so your roomy doesn’t hear the lewd noises that threaten to spew from your lips…

His hips begin to buck into the air as he imagines you sitting on his face- his tongue delving deep into your needy, dripping cunt while he laps up your juices. He imagines how tight you’d clench around his fat digits as he stretches you and preps you for his ungodly-large cock- so big he’s sure your eyes would go wide if you ever finally asked for it. He imagines you begging for it. Begging for him to split you open.

He whines into the fabric now, unable to wait any longer as he frees himself from his sweatpants, cock rock hard and too heavy to stay upright and instead slaps his lower abs with a heavy thud as it springs free. He takes it in his hand, circling and swirling the tip with his finger like he imagines you’d do with your cute little tongue. He whimpers at the thought; a nasally, breathy sound as he imagines your eyes looking up at him as you taste him for the first time. You’re so fucking pretty like this, he thinks to himself.

His hand glides down his shaft, squeezing tight while his other hand massages his big, heavy balls. His breath becomes ragged as he strokes himself, replaying the sound of your voice over and over in his head. What had you talked about in your sleepy voice this morning while he poured your coffee? The trill of your laugh when the two of you laid on the couch late last night and watched crappy horror movies… fuck. He’s not going to last long…

It’s so good he can almost hear you calling his name right now… like an angel. His hand moves faster, taking the fabric from his face and fisting his cock vigorously now. He imagines the look of surprise on your face if he’d take you from behind while you bend to water a plant, just slipping his cock in and pulling your panties to the side. The feeling of your manicured nails digging into his forearms as you steady yourself and clench around his cock. The squelching sound your pussy would make as he fucked you relentlessly, all of this built up tension finally coming to fruition. And you’d want it too. You’d want him. Your pretty little pussy fluttering as it strains to take him but sucking him on all the same.

“Eijiro? You oka-….” You stop mid sentence as your eyes fall upon the sweaty, flushed giant of a man pumping his cock laid on his bed. His tip an angry red, veins bulging… your eyes go wide when you see how long and girthy he is. Could I even fit all that? You think to yourself, as his eyes open, a new deep shade of red flushes his cheeks. He takes in your shocked face… it’s exactly like he’d imagined it.

“Ah! I’m sorry! I just had a shoot this morning down the street… I told you that this morn-… are those my panties?” You say, going from embarrassed to confused.

Kirishima doesn’t say a word, his hand stilled on his cock as he looks up at you in disbelief. He doesn’t know what to do or say. He’s sure you’ll move out now. Maybe even get a restraining order…

“Kiri… you’re such a sweet little perv… you been stealing my panties like that this whole time?” You coo, taking a step into the room and his heart pounds so hard he might die. You notice the spit and slick coating his lips and chin, the wet spot on the red lace lingerie wrapped around his dick… “You wanna taste me, Eiji? I’ve been soaking through these ones since I saw you in those gray sweats this morning…”

[in1-nutshell]

The opposite personality buddy’s are amazing and that leads me to wonder if you could do Ultra Magnus with a sparkling buddy who has a opposite personality as him? Like him dealing with his sparkling looking up to wheeljack a lot and having a slight crush in him, buddy did arrive on earth with Magnus.

YEEEEE! I love making these Buddy's! Should I do more for the future?

Also Buddy is going to have more of an Uncle/niece relationship than a romantic one.

Hope you enjoy!

Ultra Magnus daughter with the opposite personality

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Magnus first met Buddy as a sparkling.

She was so tiny back then.

He had been walking back to his home after a long day with Optimus Prime

With a war looming over everyone’s helm their talks and teachings were becoming more and more frequent.

Today though, he found a rather large box in front of his door.

Magnus inching cautiously toward the box.

He carefully opens the lid.

A small sparkling looks at him.

“A sparkling?”--Magnus

The sparkling starts crying.

“Wait no! don’t cry!”--Magnus

Magnus quickly grabs the sparkling trying to calm them down.

The sparkling immediately stops crying and places her servos on his faceplate.

“So that’s you started crying, little one?”--Magnus

Sparkling giggles and just pats him face.

“No…do not make that face. You are going to go to the sparkling unit—”--Magnus

The sparkling yawns and cuddles close to his spark and falsl dead asleep.

“…Great…What would Optimus do?”--Magnus

“Keep her.”--Optimus

Magnus jumps at the sound of his mentor’s voice.

“Sir!? What are you doing here?”--Magnus

“You forgot your data pad. And it looks like you’ve met someone new. Does she have a name?”--Optimus

“…I am not sure—”--Magnus

Both mechs notice a small data pad in the box

It says Buddy.

“I believe that is their designation. Buddy?”--Magnus

The sparkling churns a bit cuddling closer.

It was definitely a big adjustment for Magnus, but he did his best to set aside time for the sparkling throughout the day and at night.

Especially when finding out that this sparkling was rather energetic and had a bad habit of sneaking off.

Magnus is trying to find Buddy in his office.

Ratchet walks in with Optimus.

“Ultra Magnus?”—Optimus

Magnus is still turning over office supplies and chairs.

“Optimus, Ratchet… it’s been 2 hours, 45 minutes, 35 seconds and 52 nano clicks! I can’t find Buddy!”--Magnus

“Umm…”—Rachet

“She should be in this room. It was locked and…and…”--Magnus

“Magnus—”--Ratchet

“Wait! The Wrecker’s might know where she could be hiding. Thank you both for the help.”--Magnus

Magnus begins to walk out of the room.

Optimus and Ratchet watch Buddy cling onto Magnus shoulders while waving good-bye.

“…”--Optimus

“…Should we tell him?”--Ratchet

“…Not now.”--Optimus

Soon enough the war had finally broken out.

Now a new set of obstacles presented themselves.

Babysitting.

He had much more work to do with being Prime’s lieutenant.

And someone needed to keep tabs on his rather energetic sparkling running around everything.

She was too tiny and kept on hiding in places she knew she should not have been hiding.

Magnus talked with Ratchet about Buddy’s growth.

She should have been much bigger by this age, but she was still too small.

“This is something natural Magnus.”--Ratchet

Magnus trying to keep Buddy to sit still.

“It is?”--Magnus

“In all, she is just going to be growing slower or if my theory is correct, she should have an immediate growth spurt soon.”--Ratchet

“How big do you think she will get?”--Magnus

“I am not entirely sure Magnus. At least average height, if anything else, she could be a minibot.”--Ratchet

“Hmm.”--Magnus

“Magnus.”--Ratchet

“Ratchet?”--Magnus

“Where’s Buddy?”--Ratchet

Buddy is no longer sitting on the med slab.

“…”—Magnus and Ratchet

Concern truck and siren noises intensify.

As for babysitters, Prime had offered to look after Buddy many times for Magnus. Which he didn’t mind too much as he trusted the Prime, despite being a bit embarrassed. Buddy was a completely different baby when she was around Prime.

A lot quieter.

She kept him on his pedes every now and then, trying to run and jump off of everywhere.

Ratchet was another babysitter for Buddy.

She made sure the medical cabinets were locked with three locks.

She always figures out the locks with sweets or shiny tools.

She was still tiny and could hide in some of the best places.

This was all while the sparkling could crawl.

She had just learned how to properly walk by herself when Magnus became in charge of the Wrecker’s.

Buddy was now a little menace on two pedes with wheels.

Nothing was stopping her and her energetic moods.

Many Wreckers found themselves looking after the little one during more peaceful moments while Magnus was away.

Magnus walks into the room to find the wreckers tossing Buddy in the air like a ball.

Magnus nearly has a spark attack.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”--Magnus

“We didn’t have a ball for lobbing so we’re using Buddy. She seems to like it.”--Wheeljack

Buddy giggling as she is tossed in the air again.

“Again! Again!”--Buddy

“No, not again!”--Magnus

Buddy looks at Wheeljack.

“Uncle Jackie?”—Buddy

“Uncle Jackie?”--Magnus

Wheeljack smirks and tosses Buddy high.

“WHEELJACK NO!”--Magnus

“WHEELJACK YES!”—Wheeljack

“JACKIE YES!”--Buddy

There was one bot in the entire squad he wished Buddy hadn’t formed an attachment with…

Wheeljack.

Wheeljack had the chaotic energy that nearly matched Buddy’s.

Those two were almost always seen together when there were no fights for the day.

Buddy always wanted to go with Uncle Jackie.

Wheeljack was definitely an instigator and encouraged many of Buddy’s little gremlin habits.

Magnus walking in on Wheeljack giving Buddy a dagger.

“What are you doing!?”--Magnus

“Giving her a dagger?”

Magnus grabs the dagger from her servos despite her whines.

“She shouldn’t have this yet.”--Magnus

“All right, all right.”--Wheeljack

Loud yelling gets Magnus’s attention and moves out.

Wheeljack snickered and looked over at Buddy, who had a cheeky little grin.

She pulls out a small blaster from one of her subspaces.

“Now kid, what do we do with blaster?”--Wheeljack

“We, umm, don’t point them at nice bots faces.”--Buddy

“And?”--Wheeljack

“We shoot Con’s kneecaps off?”--Buddy

“And?”--Wheeljack

“If Father finds out, I found it on the floor while I was left unsupervised?”--Buddy

Wheeljack pats Buddy on the helm with a wide smile.

“Yep! Just like that.”--Wheljack

Buddy hugs Wheeljack’s pede.

“Thank you, Uncle Jackie!”

Wheeljack just pats her helm affectionately.

“Anytime kiddo. Anytime.”--Wheeljack

Wheeljack left one night and never came back to the Wrecker unit.

Buddy thought that something bad had happened to him.

She wasn’t convinced that he would just leave her like that.

Uncle Jackie wouldn’t do that.

…right?

A week later she decided to go look for him.

Wheeljack always said to never leave your friends behind, well, she wasn’t going to leave him behind.

She boarded a ship in the middle of the night and tried getting close to the controls when a loud bomb sound shook the ground making her fall into an empty crate.

A bomb had hit the Wrecker’s base.

Magnus was scrambling trying to get everyone out of the fiery inferno.

He quickly realized the direction where the bomb had detonated.

The area where the bomb had been set off was around her sleeping quarters.

There was nothing but rubble and melted metal.

No one could have survived that blast…

A couple of Wrecker’s managed to get him on the ship before they left for another.

He flew away from Cybertron on that ship.

He started to cry when he was far enough from orbit.

Most of his team had dispersed and now Buddy…Buddy was…

He set the ship on autopilot and let out a gut-wrenching sob.

Some boxes move near the cargo hold.

Magnus stops his sobs and looks at the box that was moving around.

The box opens up with Buddy kicking the lid off, climbing out of the box and laying on the floor.

“Buddy…?”--Magnus

Buddy looks at Magnus.

“Hi! Sorry I woke you up. I got caught inside the box—”--Buddy

Magnus jumps to his pedes and slides across the floor and hugs Buddy like his life depended on it.

“…Father? What happened?”--Buddy

That was the first time Buddy had seen her father sob so hard as he hugged her tight.

They spent the rest of that night in each other’s arms sobbing for their ruined home and out of relief they were okay for now.

Buddy’s growth spurt happened while they were looking for any other Autobots in space.

And it hit fast.

One deca cycle she was around the height of his knee.

The next thing he knew she was now taller and bulkier than him.

She was still so young too…

“How is this even possible?!”--Buddy

“I do not know.”--Magnus

“I don’t want to keep getting bigger!”--Buddy

“That is something we cannot control.”--Magnus

“Yeah, I think I can tell…”--Buddy

When they received the signal from Earth, they followed it.

Arcee was happy to see Magnus again but didn’t recognize the larger bot next to him.

“Ultra Magnus sir.”--Arcee

“At ease soldier.”--Magnus

Arcee looks over at the taller bot who is just waving.

“Hi Arcee!”--Buddy

“Hi…?”--Arcee

Magnus looks at Buddy who just looks at his back before turning to Arcee.

“You probably don’t remember me after all these years. I’m Buddy.”--Buddy

Arcee’s optics widen a lot.

“Buddy?! But how?!”--Arcee

Buddy chuckles a bit.

“I guess I finally grew up, didn’t I?”--Buddy

“What’s going on?”--Jack

Buddy and Magnus look at Jack.

“Is this one of the native life forms of this planet?”--Buddy

Buddy moves towards Jack, kneels down and gently pats his head.

“So small…”--Buddy

“Seriously what’s happening?”—Jack

After Team Prime finally has their reunion.

Buddy waving at Ratchet.

“Hi Ratchet!”--Buddy

Ratchet looks like he is about to have a stroke.

“Buddy?!”--Ratchet

Magnus gives him a look of ‘I-know-you-said-she-was-going-to-grow-but-I-didn’t-think-she-was-going-to-be-this-big!’

Ratchet looks back at him with ‘How-was-I-supposed-to-know-her-size?’

Buddy waves at Optimus who is roughly around the same height as her.

“Hi Optimus!”--Buddy

“… Hello Buddy.”--Optimus

Buddy smiles.

Optimus gives both Magnus and Ratchet a look saying ‘Primus-she-was-the-size-of-my-servo-when-I-last-saw-her!’

Both look at him with a ‘I-know!’ look.

Buddy was excited to meet other bots around her age.

Bee and Smokescreen have now become big brothers.

Well, older brothers…

Buddy likes to tease them a bit on size, but in a good-natured way.

She knows how hard life was being too small to do anything.

Buddy is very excited to meet Bulkhead, knowing stories from Wheeljack.

Bulkhead is just happy Jackie had someone that ‘looked’ after him too.

Buddy reminds Bulkhead too much like Wheeljack which still confuses him.

How could Buddy, who was clearly Wrecker material have such a strict rule based father like Ultra Magnus?

When the kids found out about Buddy they were just happy to meet a new member of the team.

“Buddy these are the kids. You’ve already met Jack.”--Bulkhead

Buddy waves back at Jack.

“This is Miko.”--Bulkhead

Miko gives Buddy a peace sign.

Buddy mimics the movement back.

“And this is Raf.”--Bulkhead

Raf waving shyly at Buddy.

Buddy just smiles and waves back.

“You’re really big.”--Raf

“I know! But I didn’t start out this way. I was tiny before.”--Buddy

“How tiny?”--Raf

Buddy points at Arcee.

“Smaller than Arcee. Like half.”--Buddy

“How!? What kind of juice did you drink!”--Miko

“What’s juice?”--Buddy

The kids are very confused about why so many of the bots were slightly babying Buddy.

It takes a while for them to get the idea that Buddy is the youngest member now.

Magnus is glad to see Buddy get to know the team.

He isn’t too excited when her louder side shows up more.

But he loves his daughter, so it isn’t all too bad.

When Buddy gets told that Wheeljack is on Earth, she is angry.

Her angry came at two ways.

It could be acting exactly like her father.

Or two, her personal favorite.

Judo flipping the mech.

That’s what she did the second she saw the white mech.

Buddy clenching her servos and glaring at Wheeljack as he greets everyone.

He walks up to Buddy.

“And who might you be? Don’t tell me—”--Wheeljack

Buddy swiftly grabs Wheeljack and flips him onto his back with a loud bang!

Buddy has a pede on his chassis.

“What did I do to you! Have to hand it to you, the flip was clean—”--Wheeljack

“You have broken rule 17 section 4.5 sub point A, Wheeljack.”--Buddy

“Great she is another Magnus.”--Wheeljack

“Umm… Wheeljack… That’s Buddy.”--Bulkhead

“Yeah right! Buddy is smaller than Arcee—”--Wheeljack

Buddy leans in a bit closer with a mischievous smile on her face.

“Hi Uncle Jackie.”--Buddy

Wheeljack’s optics widen.

“HOW!”--Wheeljack

[butdaddyilovehim-hs]

Rainbows and Hospital Rooms

Based of @mindofharry 's idea of Harry being a grumpy doctor and Y/N is a new intern at the hospital :)

Word Count: 1.5k

Y/N wasn’t really sure what to expect when she walked through the revolving doors of St Thomas’ Hospital. 

She’d been awake since four am, too excited about her first day as an intern. All she’d ever wanted was to help people. Before her mum passed away, she would call her a guardian angel - always around to lend a hand whenever there was trouble. Y/N believed that her mum was her guardian angel now, looking down on her in heaven. Her sweet, bubbly nature only added to her charm. She befriended everyone she met within moments, in fact Y/N was pretty sure she hadn’t met someone she hadn’t been able to win over eventually. You see, Y/N got a kick out of being kind. Whether it be letting someone ahead of her in the grocery line or sharing a coffee with the homeless man on her street, Y/N was always looking for a way to spread kindness. 

Making a good first impression was extremely important to Y/N so when she realised that she’s lost in the lobby of the hospital she started to sweat a little bit. She had decided on a whim to bake some cookies for the other interns and since it had taken her longer than expected, she wasn’t early as she had planned, but instead right on time. But being right on time and being lost in the lobby meant that now she was… late. On her first day. 

After asking for directions as quickly as she could, a rather flustered Y/N made her way to the correct room, opening the door quietly and turning red as 5 heads turned to stare in her direction. 4 were interns like her, she could tell. Young, most wearing a nervous expression and in casual clothes. The other person in the room was different. For one, he was standing in front of all the others, evidently leading the group in some sort of welcome. He was older, significantly when compared to the others in the room but Y/N couldn’t imagine he was older than 35. Compared to her 22 years, it was a rather large gap. His eyes were a striking shade of green and when they focused on her, Y/N didn’t like the way it made her feel. A swooping feeling in her stomach overwhelmed her and she felt the urge to leave the way she came, shut the door and go home. It might have been because the man standing before her was outrageously attractive. Quite possibly the most beautiful man she had ever seen, with sculpted cheekbones, those eyes, a sharp nose and lips that looked so soft, Y/N almost wanted to lean in and touch them with her own just to see if they were really as soft as they looked. 

Unfortunately for Y/N, accompanying all this beauty was an incredibly frustrated expression and it was directed at her. 

“Miss Y/N I presume. You’re-“ the man looked down at the shiny Rolex on his left wrist. “6 minutes late. Is there a reason why you couldn’t be on time like the rest of your peers or shall we just put it down to plain disrespect?” 

Y/N’s mouth opened and then closed like a fish. She was speechless.

“I’m so sorry um… sir?” She floundered for a moment, pondering what exactly to call him.

“It’s Dr Styles, to you. This isn’t military camp, although I do run a rather tight ship. Now if you would sit down, I can continue.” 

“Ok, Dr Styles it is. I am SO sorry I’m late, you see I was just-

“Please, don’t explain yourself, I don’t have the energy to listen to whatever bullshit story you decided to come up with on the way here. I’d appreciate it if you would take a seat. Every moment I waste on you, is a moment I could be saving someone’s life.”

“But I just wanted to-”

“Y/N. Sit. Down.”

Y/N blinked as he stared at her expectantly, his expression growing more frustrated by the second. She walked slowly to the empty seat in the front row and sat down, feeling rather numb. 

“Now, as I was saying before Miss Y/N decided to make her grand entrance, my name is Dr Harry Styles and I am the head of paediatrics here at St Thomas’. 

Paediatrics? Y/N thought to herself. Oh those poor children being unwell and having to be treated by the biggest asshole on earth. She wondered whether he was just as awful to the patients or whether he had perfected his bedside manner. Probably the latter, he seemed like a perfectionist. Her daydream was interrupted as an older man and woman entered the room, dressed in similar scrubs to Dr Styles. 

“Now, normally I handle all the interns myself, but since there are five of you, and my workload has grown rather heavily over the last year, I have enlisted my colleagues for some help. Dr Hannah Williams and Dr Richard Abrams.” Dr Styles explained, introducing them both. They waved and Dr Williams sent Y/N a smile and Y/N crossed her fingers and toes, hoping that she would be assigned to the nice woman with the warm smile. 

“Max and Amelie you’re with Dr Abrams. Rachel and Luke, you’re with Dr Williams. And that leaves… ”

Y/N’s heart sank.

“Y/N, you’re with me. Lucky you.” He smirked at her obvious lack of enthusiasm before continuing. 

“I’m sure you’re all aware that this is a 6 week internship. While I may not be directly supervising all of you, I will be observing you all closely. At the end of your period at St Thomas’ one of you will be offered a permanent position here. My advice? Do you best, and use what you know. You were all offered this internship for a reason, you’ve got the next six weeks to prove to me why you deserve to be here. Y/N come with me. Max and Amelie, Richard will show you where to go. Same for you Luke and Rachel, Hannah has you guys covered.” 

Y/N gathered her things quickly as Dr Styles left the room swiftly. She trailed behind him, mustering up the courage to speak. 

“Is there a reason you were so horrible to me in there?” The words left Y/N’s mouth before she could stop them and Dr Styles stopped walking abruptly in the middle of the corridor, almost causing her to face plant into his back. 

“Oh grow up Y/N. Welcome to the real world. I don’t have energy to waste on people who aren’t punctual. If this is too much for you to handle, or If I’m too much for you to handle, quit. No one is stopping you.”

He waited expectantly, but Y/N was silent.

“Good. Now if you’re done with your little outburst, we have patients to see. Try not to waste my time Y/N. Most people don’t dare to talk back to me, especially on the first day. I picked you because you intrigued me and I thought I saw potential. Don’t prove me wrong.” 

Y/N nodded, her thoughts going a million miles a minute. Dr Styles led her into a closed corridor, where the walls were filled with colour, shapes and animals.

“The first patient we’re going to see today is a 5 year old named Jackson. Jackson has stage 3 terminal cancer. At this stage it’s all about keeping him comfortable. He’s wary of new people, so just be gentle.”

He opened a door, and it was almost like someone had flipped a switch. The second the door had opened, Dr Styles’ face had switched from a stern expression to a wide smile. He was so pretty when he smiled, Y/N thought, before shaking it from her head and following him into the room. 

“Hey little superman! How are we feeling today?” Dr Styles asked the young boy, who was lying in the bed watching a dinosaur cartoon on his iPad. Y/N’s heart broke at the number of wires and medical equipment surrounding the little boy. 

“I’m bored. Can I go play outside?? Please Harry pleaseeeee.” Jackson pouted his lips at Dr Styles and Y/N suppressed a giggle. She watched him as a flicker of emotion crossed his face before he shook his head.

“Sorry not today little dude, but how about I try and get Nurse Rebecca to bring you something special later on?”

“Ok.” Jackson’s face fell as he directed his attention back to the screen. Y/N shifted slightly to the side and he looked up, making eye contact with her.

“Who’s that? Is she your girlfriend Harry? She’s very pretty.”

Y/N turned bright red and Dr Styles seemed to choke on air before spluttering out a response. 

“Not my girlfriend Jackson. This is Y/N, I’m showing her what it’s like to work here.”

“Hi Jackson, it’s nice to meet you!” Y/N sent the boy a small wave and he waved back. 

“We’ll come and visit you again later buddy ok?” Dr Styles ushered Y/N slowly out of the room, shutting the door behind her. 

They stood in silence for a moment, Dr Styles watching Jackson through the small window, a pensive expression on his face. 

“He’s a really sweet kid.” Y/N spoke softly. 

“He is.” Dr Styles agreed gruffly, and Y/N watched as his eyes began to mist. But as quickly as the tears had formed, they were gone and he was blinking them away and continuing down the hallway. 

“Hurry up Y/N we have people to see and you know how I feel about punctuality.” 

Y/N smiled softly, trailing after him. There was something there, more to Dr Styles than he was letting her see and Y/N was determined to figure him out.

A/N: Hello!! This was a super short random thing that I might continue hehe

Tags:

@lukesaprince @harrys-flower @harryspirate @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lilyrmason12 @styleslover-1994 @stylesfever @kathb59 @indierockgirrl @bxbyysstuff @gills-lounge

[pleasantly-painful-fiction]

Walking on snow with bare feet

What does it feel like to walk on snow barefoot? I decided to find out! I tested 3 different snowfalls, all less than 3 inches deep, but with different weather conditions.

Dryer snow - the kind you can sort of make a snowball out of, but it breaks in mid-air or the moment it hits anything - isn't nearly as cold on your feet as you think it will be. Numbness is slow to set in. It's like walking in sand or fine sea salt, but softer, fluffier, and less coarse. It can be exhilarating and energizing like a big dose of caffeine, without the unpleasant side effects. It can feel good, tempting you to step in it again. Great for achy or injured feet.

The wetter the snow is, the colder it is, and the faster numbness sets in. In very wet snow - the kind that becomes a very compact snowball that hurts when it hits you and may not even break on impact - that numbness can become painful within a couple minutes. The feel is more similar to shaved or crushed ice and may poke or dig into the skin, which is also uncomfortable. It's not a pleasant experience at all.

Even if the snow is dry at first, if the temperatures rise enough for the snow to melt a little, then drop to below freezing (often rising during the day and dropping at night), it can become wet. The more melting and freezing rounds it goes through, the more icy it becomes, and the worse it feels to step on.

Even if the snow is only an inch high, it compacts beneath your feet, forming a barrier between you and the ground. This may be slippery, but it also keeps your feet clean!

Air temperature and snow height matters! The deeper the snow, the faster your feet will freeze. If the snow is very wet and crunchy, no height will be comfortable. Regardless of type though, the more shallow the snow, the longer you can withstand it.

Dry snow is most comfortable when air temperature is above 35 degrees Fahrenheit. If it's shallow, you could easily run the length of a football field - maybe even walk it - before the numbness becomes too uncomfortable. Between 20 and 30 degrees, it's much colder. You could probably make it about half the distance.

Wet snow isn't comfortable even in the low 40's. In fact it's probably more ice and slush than snow. Stick your foot in a gas station slushie and you'll probably get an idea of how it feels... but slush doesn't make your foot sticky. Below 35 degrees Fahrenheit, it's like sticking your foot into a bowl filled with lots of ice and some water. It's actually worse than stepping barefoot on a skating rink because it gets into all the little nooks and crannies of your feet the same way sand does. It's going to hurt.

I've never done cocaine, but I imagine what I felt when I stepped into the soft dry snow is similar to what one feels after snorting a line. Or what it felt like when I forgot my ADHD medication as a kid and was practically bouncing off the walls... sometimes literally. There was just such a rush of energy and excitement. I wanted to run and jump, both of which I normally hate. I kept going back and forth across our yard. I started dancing and laughing. It felt like I was really experiencing lift.

My partner - I dragged him outside to try it after he got home from a very long work day - wasn't nearly as enthusiastic, but he definitely perked up for a moment. He's not as easily impressed as I am, lol.

But I thought of a whumpee stepping barefoot into the snow, maybe experiencing it for the first time, and becoming absolutely giddy. A whumpee dragging caretaker into the cold white fluff and the two of them laughing and dancing, momentarily forgetting their pain and suffering.

Of course, a whumpee forced to walk barefoot in the snow might not get that same rush. Wet snow would be good for quick punishments. A whumpee being forced to walk a longer distance barefoot in dry snow to run an errand, or maybe they're walking home barefoot after the school bully stole their shoes. Even if they got a boost at first, it would likely fade... much like my excitement when I realized how uncomfortable the wet snow was to walk in.

[elvestoneanzelote1]

May I request for a Platonic! Yandere! Chuuya x younger brother! Reader (13-14 years old.)

Before Chuuya had been kidnapped, his mother was pregnant with his little sibling, whom he absolutely could not wait to see, but after he was taken, of course, his memories were warped until he could not remember his childhood before the age of 7. but one day while Chuuya is having a seemingly peaceful walk through a park, a dog, specifically a Shiba Inu, comes bolting towards his direction, and the animal jumps onto him, covering his face in doggy kisses, until Chuuya hears a sharp whistle, and the dog quickly jumps away, giving Chuuya a chance to get up, only to see a young teen boy commanding the dog to sit and also apologizes to Chuuya for his dog's behavior. Chuuya notices the eerie physical similarities between him and a kid he’s never met before, at least that’s what he believes, but until Chuuya asks for the kid's name, he feels his entire world stop as the kid mentions his last name, 'Nakahara.’ Chuuya knew he had parents, but he never knew he had a younger brother.

(Reader also has an ability called ‘Wings of the Earth’ which, just like the name suggests, allows Reader to grow wings resembling hawks while also gaining the birds abilities, but with a time limit of 35 minutes, except that the more Reader uses his ability, the faster he becomes and the longer he can activate his ability, but in return, his energy is drained quicker.)

𝘈:𝘯- 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦.

𝘈𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰... 𝘌𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵.

𝘈𝘴 𝘴𝘰... 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵/𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘵.

𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘶𝘺𝘢 𝘹 (𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳.

Things were as usual for Chuuya who had just finished with a job and was returning home early

The dusk of the evening lighten up his way until, he saw a dog that pounce onto him.

Alarmed yet could not resist such a cute dog he pat the dog who rolled down enjoying the touch.

"(D/n) (dog name), I told you not to rush didn't I!" Said a voice as his eyes flickered onto a thirteen-year-old boy.

His blue eyes flickered onto him as he bowed while apologizing about his dog behaviour that whimpered sadly with its ear down.

"Its fine... The dog is a friendly one, is it a he or she?"

"Oh, it is a he... (D/n), He often likes to play around I didn't think he would jump on you nor did I think he would run away"

"It's fine... I love dogs"

"You do?"

"Yeah, Either way its getting you should head home kid"

"I could say the same to you"

"Hey even if I look short I am 22 alright"

"Ah... Okay"

"It doesn't sound reassuring what's your name?" Chuuya ask as you frown a bit.

"Mother said, do not give personal information to strangers."

"Brat"

"Don't call me that!"

"I will call you that because that's how you are acting its just a name"

"... Y/n..." You mutter as he lean a bit.

"Can't hear you say it louder did you not have food today?!"

"I'm Y/n Nakahara!"

"Oh... Y/n Naka- wait... What" his eyes flicker on your formed as you nod confused by his shock expression.

"Your... Nakahara...?"

"Yes?"

"..."

"...?" You were confused until your watch buzzed alarming you as you gasp.

"D/n, we have to rush home the Pancho man episode will start in ten minutes!" You shouted and quickly start running with your dog which happily ran away before Chuuya could ask more.

"W-wait"

He stares as you already left afar.

His lips quiver as his eyes was frozen to stare.

"Your... My younger... Brother?"

He mutter to no one.

But for a reason he try to refuse to acknowledged more likely try to care not.

As his parents abandoned him to the researcher when he was seven of course he...

But... Why did he run to you to help when he saw you almost got crash by a car.

Why did he run towards you when he notice the tears in your eyes.

Why did he hugged you as if his life was on line when he saw you breathing and well... But in tears.

Why did he...

Why can't he just ignore you.

Why can't he ignore that he have a brother...

Why can't he ignore like how he ignore his parents till now...

But he realise one thing you are just a kid...

You weren't even born when he was isolated.

You were not at fault.

And he will make sure you won't be injured.

And will make sure his parents will pay if they treat you like how they treat him.

Till then he will watch over you in silnce.

In a corner always to make you smile and have a safe protected life.

Instead he will even abduct you just to protect you.

If the parents can't look after you.

You won't mind it right?

After all your his younger brother he swore to protect.

No matter what.

..

.

.

.

Thank you for the request take care! -a:n

[purplelupins]

A Pretty Butterfly

|The Watchmen|

Rorschach x fem!reader

Summery: Watching a stranger from your windows quickly turned into a human connection you craved. You just wanted to help this strange man who walked past your home everyday…but it seemed you got more than you had bargained for.

Warnings: SLOW BURN, violence, mentions of rape and assault, age-gap (reader is mid -late 20’s and Rorschach is 45) smut, dub-con, fingering, obsession, stalking, anxiety, Rorschach being a tit, pessimistic thoughts, self-sabotage, sunshine and grumpy old man dynamic

Word count: 13.8k words

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IF YOU DO FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DONT READ THIS

Notes: In the film, they claim Rorschach is 35, but the comic has him at 45 so I went with that instead. a special thanks to my buddy @mandowifey for sending me down this rabbit hole and helping me out with my scatter brain��

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You didn’t mean to stare.

That was a lie.

…a half lie.

You liked to watch, but you didn’t mean to latch onto one face in particular when you peered out of your window. You never really had before; perhaps the odd flamboyantly dressed hooker or someone with outrageously done hair, but you couldn’t say you had ever taken notice of someone who seemed so inconsequential.

It was his red hair that made you look twice, at first.

From your little window, above a small tea shop that was run by a family who smelled of jasmine, you first saw that little man who wandered the streets of New York with his picket sign.

“The end is nigh” it said.

The first time you saw it, it made you laugh a little. So pessimistic. You wondered why he felt the need to forecast such a statement to the city. Was the end all he could see? Was there no good in his eyes?

Silly, you thought, to busy yourself with a stranger’s story that you had fabricated entirely in your mind.

But then the second time you saw him, those words made you think.

Perhaps it was close- the end, that is. The more and more that chauvinistic Dooms Day Clock ticked, the more you started to believe that man.

It was inevitable.

Perhaps it was close, too.

You wondered if he was unstable- mentally or otherwise. Wandering the streets when he should have been getting help. But the more you watched, the more you realised about him and his meandering walk; never once did you see him lash out or scream like you had seen so many times from those who injected and snorted and drank any substance they could get their hands on.

You watched him for months- accidental at first, then you found yourself checking outside your window to see if he was there. It was as if he was your own personal dooms-day clock- each time you saw him it was a tick. Somehow you found him far more comforting than the Armageddon timepiece the government kept.

Then you got tired of walking from your desk to the window, and moved it up against the glass. You told yourself there was no harm in thoughtfully gazing at someone…you weren’t harming him or yourself. You liked to pretend you were friends…though you knew he wasn’t even aware of your existence. You bet he had a million odd stories of the world around him- he looked far older than you. Older and harsher.

Then came the day that changed your private little relationship.

The day he stared back.

It had scared you half to death when you had been watching him in your usual daze- silly smile on your face and chin in your palm- and he had paused. He had looked down the street, stopped, then snapped his head up to look you in the eye. He was 25 feet below you yet he saw you so clearly and you felt stripped bare.

You had nearly fallen out of your chair to scramble away from the window; goosebumps had sprung up on your arms and your feet had pins and needles in them. Your heart had leapt into your throat and pounded furiously. It had taken you 10 minutes to finally inch back to the window. To your relief, he was no longer there, but then distress began to set in as you wondered if you had scared him off. He didn’t exactly look blessed with monetary abundance, and you doubted he appreciated a strange woman staring down at him.

The next day, you thought he might not pass your street; having a stranger watch him was likely not on his to-do list and there were hundreds of streets for him to march down instead of yours.

However, even though you agreed with this likelihood of him not coming back, you found yourself unable to complete any work until noon. A call from your employer was the only thing that snapped you out of your reverie, and even then, you could barely focus on your work.

Your knee bounced as you did your best to prioritize, and almost got lost in the work in front of you until out of the corner of your eye, you saw a flicker of red. It was embarrassing how fast you looked down, not that you truly cared.

Your heart jolted. He was there. You didn’t scare him off.

Then, he looked up again.

This time, you didn’t run. You held your ground…and even managed a little wave.

He didn’t wave back, and you even wondered if he saw it.

He only readjusted his sign over his shoulder and kept walking.

What an odd man.

Though you supposed you were just as odd to show such an interest in him.

Perhaps a little perverse…

You blanched at the thought; hoping to god that he didn’t think that.

While making dinner, a thought struck you. You made just a little extra food, and saved it in a container, even writing a note for yourself to not forget to give it to that strange man. You knew it was silly, and forward - truly very unlike you- but in a city where it was next to impossible to make any selfless human connection…you didn’t want this to go to waste. Even if he told you to piss off, at least you could sleep at night knowing you tried.

So you waited.

You truly hoped against hope that your wish to show compassion wouldn’t be seen as anything but what it was…though a part of you began to think you were practically asking for trouble or misinterpretation. The longer you sat the more nonsensical you felt as your knee bounced twice the speed of your heart beat.

It was almost 10 am when he came into your view, only this time it was as if he materialised out of nowhere instead of the slow walk from your right to your left.

You didn’t even wait to see if he would look up.

You didn’t let yourself think.

You dashed to your door, food in hand, and tore down the stairs to the small gate separating your home’s entrance from the figures trudging past. You opened it and stepped out onto the street, trying not to get stepped on by passers-by as you looked for him. To your luck, he was only ten feet down from your building, and before you could stop yourself, you quickened your pace to catch up.

“E-excuse me! Sir?” You called softly once you were behind him. The man came to a slow stop and turned- a stoic look on his face.

Now that this man was in front of you and was giving you his very real attention, you felt your lungs cease their function for a few seconds, no words forming in your mouth either.

He was handsome…in a strange sort of way.

He looked…jagged, and guarded.

Thin, short, and tired…but by god you couldn’t look away. Not until you realized you were staring again.

Simple and to the point.

You looked down at the container of food in your hands that was still warm.

“I’m- I apologise…I wanted you to have this…it’s getting cold.” You said, holding out the food to him.

Most impersonal act of kindness in recorded history, well done.

You returned your eyes to his face, and found him looking right back at you. Neither angry nor kind. He simply looked…beaten. Tired of his life…tired of the world…you didn’t know for certain. But you understood.

Somehow.

“I’m-…I’m sorry for staring. And I hope you’re not allergic to anything…um, there’s a fork in there, you can keep it, good to have, you know?” You knew you were rambling, and very aware that he hadn’t looked away from you once. You fought to hold his gaze, but admittedly it was an intimidating stare.

He turned to walk away, and you felt panic fill you.

“Please take it.” You tried again, but he didn’t say a word.

He silently left you standing there, and you felt like New York’s biggest idiot.

It was the rambling…defiantly the rambling. Oh maybe it was the act itself I mean he probably isn’t used to having that kind of- okay now that’s a bit of an over-assumption…he might have lots of people offering him kindness…and now you’re the one standing on the street staring at a lamppost.

…pull yourself together.

You watched him disappear, just like your pride; whatever had been left of it. Your shoulders began to sag as defeat settled into you and turned your tongue sour.

Which was why you decided to do the exact same thing again the next day.

You waited. Perfectly ready to not see him after that embarrassing display yesterday…but sure enough, there he was.

You noted that he did not not look up today, not that you blamed him.

You were out the door before you could dissuade yourself.

“Mister!” You called.

He didn’t turn this time.

You repeated yourself a little more clearly. “Mister!”

He kept walking. And somehow every time you almost caught up to him, he would slip out of your grasp.

You could only continue like that so far down the street, and eventually had to give up. He was stubborn…and you could be too. You didn’t know this man’s story, and if he didn’t see himself as good enough to receive kindness, then you could continue until he did understand…or until he called the police on you for harassment.

So you did it again. And again.

You told yourself you would try two more times and if he didn’t take them…that would be that. You would have to move on.

You made a rich stew, and even put a few pieces of bread in a bag for him. You steeled your shot nerves, and began to walk down to your entrance before even seeing him.

You saw him coming from a few blocks away, and very slowly made your way into his path. He gradually took in your form, but didn’t pause or even stop. Not until he was a foot from you. But you held your ground.

“Look…I’m not…I don’t know why you won’t let me help you, but I don’t want you to think I’m trying to get some gold star or have you boost my ego by being thankful…I just want to show you kindness and if that’s too much for yo-“

He held his hand out to you, palm up. He didn’t look away, and blinked slowly.

You might not have been the best at reading every person you met, but his message was obvious. “If I take it will you leave me alone?”

You grinned timidly, and placed the food in his hand gently. “Keep the container…they’re good to have.” You said under your breath almost out of habit- it had been something your mother did and now you found yourself doing.

He took it without another word, and you felt a pleasant heat bloom in your chest.

The next day, you childishly watched for him again- as if he was your Santa Clause or Tooth Fairy…although he looked like he might knock someone’s teeth out rather than give them a couple coins for them.

You made a soup that would fill him up and picked up an extra loaf of bread to give him. Both sat on your lap as you sat on your stoop, ready for him. You kept telling yourself you just wanted to help out a lonely soul like yourself, and that you weren’t developing a juvenile crush on the man who hadn’t even spoken to you.

You leaned out periodically to see if you could see him, and found yourself readying your nerves to confront him again.

You sighed and went to lean out again, only to freeze rigidly.

“M-morning-“ you squeaked.

The very man you were waiting for was standing just feet from you, staring, and his free hand in his pocket. As if he had come up from the gutters themselves.

You hadn’t prepared for this kind of sudden interaction, and found yourself mentally throttling your brain to do something.

Anything.

It seemed however that whatever god was above you decided to take mercy on you for once, and the man reached out his hand just as he had the day previously.

You wordlessly handed the food to him then remembered the bread. “Oh! This um is for you too…it’s fresh.” You added, pretending like your cheeks weren’t warm and your hands weren’t shaking.

You smiled gently, but it faded fast when you notices a small group of seedy men approaching the two of you. You didn’t like to instantly label people, but this particular flock of men were well known in the area…you had watched them many a time from the safety of your window.

You instantly began to shrink in on yourself, and it seemed your change in demeanour was enough to catch the older man’s attention. He followed your stare behind him, and his nose momentarily scrunched up in a displeased snarl. A mere twitch.

Vermin.

Rorschach felt something ugly build in him. He knew their faces well…rape, theft, assault, vandalism. These men were true scum under his boot…he hated that he couldn’t put them in their place without his face.

“Hey-yo mammi lookin good!”

“Hey you wanna lift that skirt a little more?”

“Whatcha doin with the little rat, hm?”

You could feel your heart rate pick up as they got closer, and you hoped that they didn’t realize you lived in that building. You wished you didn’t feel so small but-

The older man handed the food back to you without even looking. It was enough to bring you back to reality, and you took it quickly- the last thing you wanted was to antagonise him. Then he turned his body fully to the approaching group, and he waited patiently.

Your heart stopped. Was he about to-

He didn’t move from his stance in front of you, and he almost looked bored. Inconvenienced.

“The fuck you gonna do weasel?” One of them sneered.

That’s not very nice-

They’re not nice PEOPLE

You watched, terrified, as they got into his face and towered over him. The last thing you wanted was for him to get beaten for just being near you-

“What’s your fucking problem huh? Just gonna stare at us with those freak eyes cuz you can’t fight?” Another taunted, guffawing.

You winced, and your eyes unfocused…just like they used to-

But then, something in the men changed like a light switch. With his back to you and now a few feet away, you couldn’t tell if the man had said something, or done something, but what you did know was that the skinniest of the group was clapping the biggest on the shoulder and telling him “The little rat ain’t worth the trouble.” But there was an urgency in him what wasn’t there before.

The men huffed and some blew kisses at you which made you wrap your sweater tighter around yourself wishing you could disappear. Your eyes refocused as you heard them walk away, and you slowly looked over at the older man who was now half turning back to you.

You stared at him, your appreciation evident on you face. “I- Thank you sir…I don’t…” Don’t want to think of what might have happened if you weren’t here, you wanted to say, but you kept it simple instead. You sighed and shook your head, then held out your offering to him, and the bread you were sure he would like.

The man stared, and rose his right brow slightly, then took both from you. He turned and left you there as if it was a normal day.

Your heart was still beating wildly by the time he had left your sight, and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through you as you thought about him defending you; even if it was simply him not in the mood to witness a young woman have her dignity taken…he had done something, and that made you stare after him longer than usual.

You didn’t ask why he came back at all.

Nor why he was right by your stoop that morning.

And you never inquired as to why he never asked why you didn’t give him money.

He knew why you didn’t. Perhaps not enough to make a full admission to himself but he sensed something in you…that stupid little girl. You didn’t give him money because money was too easy to fall into sin. Gambling, drugs, whores…all for money.

You wanted your kindness to stay as it was intended to be- good.

The warmth you had felt stewed in your stomach right through to the next day; you had made your way to your favourite shops early that morning and picked up a few bags of things to cook with. Then as you went to turn to your building, you paused.

You knew that red hair a mile away, and you only needed to look a few feet to see it resting against your stoop entrance.

He-

You looked around at nothing as if someone might tell you what you were seeing.

He was sat there on your building’s steps, newspaper in hand…reading. You considered continuing walking down the street and pretending like you didn’t see him or live there, but you felt silly even considering such a thing.

He didnt look up at you, and didn’t acknowledge you as you slowly approached the steps.

“Morning.” You said gently. Your cheeks began to flush when you looked at him- attempting to retrieve your keys from your pocket without tripping. It came out almost absentmindedly, seeing as you didn’t exactly want him to know that you had been fixated on how to approach him…although you supposed you had already had blown that when you watched for him every day and chased him with food…

He didn’t say a word.

An anxious knot began to tighten in your stomach. You truly didn’t know what to do…you didn’t want to seem rude if he just hadn’t heard you. You got to the first step and glanced down at your hot coffee. You wondered if he was able to speak at all…At this point, when you figured you were mostly talking to yourself and that he likely barely listened to a word you said.

“You need this more than I do…it’s September now…getting cold.” You bent down, hoping your paper bags didn’t rip, and placed it onto the second step by his boot.

You wanted to ask him why he was on your steps; wondered if he was waiting for you; wondered if he might clasp a hand over your mouth and slit your throat the moment you walked past him. It wasn’t that you wanted to think the worst, but after years of seeing the worst in the city, you couldn’t help it. You hoped that you were wrong, for you sanity’s sake.

The man still hadn’t acknowledged you, and your arms were growing heavy. With nothing left to do, you opted to walk past him and unlocked the door; chancing a glance back at his form. Perhaps you were delusional, but you swore you saw his head turning back to its original position. Had his gaze followed you?

A glance.

It was small and secret and you were elated.

You wasted no time in running up the stairs into your apartment, and grabbing the food you had saved from the night before. You counted the seconds mentally that it took for you to descend the stairs again, hoping it wouldn’t be enough time for the man to disappear.

You nearly tripped on the last step when you saw him standing and folding the newspaper. In another attempt to regain your composure, you slowed your pace as you came to the top of the stoop. You almost handed the food to him from there, but it made you feel like someone with a saviour complex instead of just trying to be nice. The tentative step you took down to his level seemed to finally grasp his vague attention as he looked down at your feet then up to your face.

You held the food out by his gloved hand.

“I hope you’re okay, mister.” You said earnestly, holding his gaze, “It’s horrible out there.” You didn’t know what made you say that, but it had been something that weighed on your mind for months…perhaps years. A dormant thought that his picket sign had awakened.

The man took the food, and it was then that you noted a certain despondency in his eyes. Perhaps it was the way his weathered face made them stand out so much more amongst the lines of age.

He left you there again just like he always did: silently.

Just as you were about to wander back up into your home, you glanced down and stopped and smiled.

There sat the coffee cup you had handed him.

It was empty.

Perhaps he was accepting your gestures in hopes of having you eventually leave him alone, but you were only fuelled by his recipiency. It became a routine for you to keep extra food for that man. Even if you ordered take-out, you kept some for him.

You noticed, however, that not long after you made contact with the strange man, a few things started happening to you that certainly had not before. In fact, you were beginning to ponder your sleep quality as you often woke up to far less food than when you had gone to sleep. Were you sleep walking? Or simply forgetting all together how much you had eaten?

Then came the dreams. At least a few times out of the week, your dream-addled mind swirled with unclear images of someone or something visiting you at night- a shadow, a whisper, a puff of smoke in the wind. You swore you woke up with things moved, but there was no forced entry that you could find, and thus you never thought more of it than you needing more sleep.

Weeks passed as you took it upon yourself to care for this man, even though he seemed to dislike the company. You knew he found you childish, it was beyond evident in his face when he stared at you. But even still, he took what you offered him, albeit begrudgingly.

Each time you saw him, a part of your heart felt bruised. Not that you pitied him -you were certain he would resent any pity- but you could tell when a person was damaged. Be it from something personal or the world itself…it didn’t matter. You were all hurt in your own way. You wondered how long it had been since someone was kind to him; had he known much kindness at all? Had he lost everything? Did he have anything to lose in the first place?

You hoped you could provide him with a tiny little ray of hope amongst the arduous reality.

Perhaps you were too optimistic like your mother had said when you were little…but you didn’t care. Not when it helped you sleep at night and get through the days of listening to the dwindling city below you.

But then, he stopped coming.

It had been a full month and a half since he had first accepted your offering. You had gotten so used to your routine that the first morning it happened, you felt sick- like a punch to your gut. You heart had dropped to your toes and your tongue felt heavy and your ears rang. You instantly thought the worst. Of course you tried to rationalise it, telling yourself that he most likely just wanted a change in his route and would be gone for that day…or perhaps he simply got sick and didn’t go for his usual walk.

When you sat there at your window, having gone back up dejectedly, you found yourself staring into nothingness. You hadn’t realized how attached you had become to that little man.

This man who never spoke had become a friend of sorts…some kind of stanger who gave you a tiny bit of human contact that you grew dependant on. It wasn’t as if he was kind to you, in fact he was a little standoffish when it came to you…you wondered if you bothered him more than anything else…and the more you thought about it the more you realized you probably did.

That night came and went; quiet and lonely aside from those strange dreams. Your eyes prickled when you awoke- already feeling empty.

You felt so silly. So selfish. Ridiculous really.

You felt even more ridiculous when you called in sick to work even though you couldn’t afford it. You found yourself wandering the streets without the slightest idea where that man came from or what his routine was, so you picked some directions to try and set off. There was no plan, you just needed to know that the one person you actually cared about wasn’t laying dead in an alley, at the very least.

It took three hours.

Three.

Asking various vendors and urchins of the streets before you were pointed in the direction that ultimately led you to that tuft of dirty red hair. He was passing by a news stand, that simple pace carrying him as always.

“Mister!” You called before you could tell yourself this was stalking…and the fact that you had no plan whatsoever.

The only indication that he heard you was when the man’s steps faltered for a moment. A slight pause in his foot and a tightening of his shoulders.

You ran to him, and moved into his field of vision. He stared at you almost like a stranger, and that stung you more than it should have. But you did your best to remain calm and kind.

“I haven’t- you-“ you tried, but failed to catch your breath, “I thought something had happened to you…but I’m so glad to see you safe. Can I- can I buy you lunch?” You asked him.

The man stared at you hard, that line between his brows even more pronounced than usual. He was thinking.

Rorschach loathed how bare he was without his face. If he wasn’t in disguise he wouldn’t hesitate to tell you to take your pity elsewhere, anything to get you to unstick yourself from him.

When he didn’t budge, you shifted on your feet, looking around to break his intense eye contact, “I- you dont have to repay me or anything…just a bite to eat. I care about you…- more than I should probably.”

“You shouldn’t.”

You almost jumped at the voice that left him.

That was the first time he had said a word to you, and you admittedly never would have thought that that would be his voice- it was so deep and hoarse that you shivered.

Then you realised what he had said.

“I sh-…why?” You asked, scrunching your brows together.

He hated his weakness in finally speaking. You would never let go now.

“People like you don’t care about people like me, and vice versa.” His words came in a rumble, and they tore you down so easily. A stomp to your heart.

You tried to pretend like tears weren’t welling in your eyes; like you were stronger than the curt, sharp words of a man you barely knew. “And what kind of people are my people?” You pushed, though it sounded more desperate than you wanted.

His face was pure stone. “Good people.”

You swallowed. “And you’re bad?” The question was timid; any wind that had been in your sails was long gone as soon as he had opened his mouth.

“Yes.” He rasped. Rorschach didn’t have the patience to baby you, and frankly his temper was rising the more you made him speak.

“Call me naive…but you don’t seem bad to me…you look…worn down.” You shrugged. “You seem like you need a little good in your life…and I really want to help you with that-“

“No you don’t.”

He said it so quickly it was as if he had practiced it or said it before. You wondered how many times he had gotten hurt.

As you searched for any retort, he continued, and began to stalk towards you causing you to back away. “You don’t want to help with anything. What you want is to feel a little less self absorbed than you already do but in doing so you only fall further into your pathetic, egocentric existence. You think you’re being compassionate? Look again. You’re nothing but a privileged little girl looking for a new toy until she gets bored and wants another one. Look in the mirror for once and see what you really are, you wretch.”

His words rang in your ears, and you felt lightheaded. He stared you down a moment longer, then he was turning around and disappeared into the crowd before you could find a rebuttal or feel your hands. You were numb.

Your heart ached as much as your feet did, if not more.

No…certainly more. You felt nauseated.

It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped on you from the top of one of the skyscrapers above you. You felt cold and breathless.

You didn’t remember walking home, but you must have seeing as you were sitting on your couch, coat off and tears dry by 6 pm.

You never thought he cared that much; thought he just saw you as a free meal and you were alright with that…but hearing what he had thought of you all along made you want to double over at your stupidity.

Had he been obvious in his distain and you just hadn’t noticed? You supposed it had been you who forced him to take your food in the first place…he had tried to get away from you but never could because you were so persistent. You were selfish in your want to help, and it had angered him terribly.

And you had lied to yourself; you had told yourself that if he told you to piss off, you would just have to accept that…but here you were with him telling you just that and you couldn’t handle it.

You should have known it was only a matter of time before you pushed this stranger too far…

He was like a wild dog; he would respect you…and then he wouldn’t.

And now you felt even worse for comparing him to a dog.

You hung your head in your hands and let your tears fall. In your want to help someone you had only made an enemy, and made yourself feel more alone than ever.

But that one morning still played over and over if your mind- when he hadn’t let that gang of men get any closer to you; he could have so easily just taken the food and walked away to leave you to their mercy…but he had stood his ground.

Your head ached as you tried to rationalise everything and piece it together.

But all you could come up with was that he thought you were a horrible person…and you were starting to believe him. You supposed you were nothing more than a caterer for him and you had pushed his boundaries too much.

It was all your fault.

A week passed. Every night, you still made the extra food for him, only now you left it out on the stoop since you didn’t see him anymore; hoping he might wander by when you weren’t looking. But you felt your heart ache when it was untouched. On more than one occasion the food was taken, but you assumed it wasn’t your…friend.

Of course, you had no idea that the very man you urned for sat beside those containers almost every night for at least an hour without his face. He never touched what you left for him, and he stared at it in distain. You were young, and you were stupid. He gathered he couldn’t even call you a whore yet…hell you almost had a pretentious halo around you from being born still. He wondered how it felt to be so utterly ignorant.

Rorschach hated that he knew more about you than you thought. That he had taken up the habit of perching on your fire escape outside your window as he wrote in his journal, and you cooked or read.

What he didn’t know was why you did this. Rorschach was a master of puzzles and he loathed that he couldn’t figure your motive out, not fully at least.

You said you cared.

Said you wanted to help…

Stupid.

There was no way in hell that anything you said was true. There was some kind of poison lacing your words and he had already let himself be exposed too long. No one liked Walter Kovacs, and no one liked Rorschach; they used him and worked with him…but like?

No.

A young woman liking him?

Unheard of.

Preposterous.

But that first day you had come to him on that filthy street had felt like an itch had been scratched. For months he had felt eyes on him on that particular stretch of street, but when he had finally spotted you upon your little perch, he felt what it was like to have a question answered for once. It had startled him. You had startled him. He had imagined it was an old, fat creep spying on the passers-by or a whore looking for a client…just like her…

But then there you were- this soft young woman with clean clothes and a gentle stare; you had almost fallen out of your seat, red cheeks visible even from his view point below.

Just another strange woman then.

Then…and only then when you had burst out onto the street, and run after him did he allow himself to look at you. Actually look at you.

You had looked irritatingly familiar.

There was a timidness to your eyes- a sadness that had turned to kindness. A stark contrast to the sadness in his own eyes- a sadness that had turned to venom and ice long ago.

Your voice was soft as you spoke all in a rush and apologising as you held that peace offering to him. A warm meal.

Selfless.

You were young, and selfless.

You didn’t care that he was as filthy as the street you stood on. That he hadn’t even spoken a word.

You had just wanted to help.

Stupid.

Rorschach was pleased that he had chosen to leave you there; he wasn’t one to pick up strays.

But you were stubborn. He loathed how stubborn you were. Treating him like he was a bug under your microscope.

That next time when he finally took your selfish, presumptuous offering, he considered not eating the food lest it be poisoned, but then again that wouldn’t be the worst thing he had endured in his lifetime.

He had watched you retreat back into your little home like some little, pathetic mouse.

He wasn’t young, or stupid, or naive, or innocent.

He wasn’t about let his gaze wander to some girl who would be a whore in a year or two.

At least that was what he had told himself up until night fell. Once the city was plunged into darkness and his disguise came off, Rorschach clenched his bloodied knuckles as he scaled a near-by building. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop until he came to a familiar neighbourhood. Rorschach had huffed behind his mask, and crawled down the ladder system to your window; a sick, juvenile curiosity making him feeble. Contempt flooded him.

He sat outside your window…watched you as you put yourself to sleep; tugging frustratedly at your night-dress when it bunched up under your blanket. There was an innocence to you that made his nostrils flare under his mask and his ears ring; as if an old memory was trying to resurface. It was ludicrous, of course.

Your window had opened surprisingly quietly, and he soundlessly eased himself inside. Your home was simple and comfortable despite likely having a landlord who didn’t give two shits about you. Tidy enough for a young woman. Rorschach stalked from shadow to shadow, mapping out the apartment. Then he came to your bedroom, and he paused; watched how gently you breathed as sleep took you. As if you didn’t have a care in the world, or perhaps you simply weren’t aware of the scum that lay below you.

He told himself he was just collecting information on this strange person who had extended him a disingenuous olive branch. Nothing more.

It wasn’t that there was an itch in his hands when he saw you, or a twitch in his eye when he heard your voice; that you got under his skin.

You little creature.

A little light that had turned on in his dark world.

He hated the light.

He stared at the dress that you had worn that day- draped over the back of a chair in the corner of your room. It had sat at your knee, a modest length especially given your young age. It wasn’t often that a young woman attempted to protect herself with a show of dignity. He gathered you must be hiding something…

You were odd. A sliver of grey in his black and white world.

He hated grey. It made no sense.

Then there was the routine that you forced him to partake in.

He found his steps slowing when he passed your building- not out of expectation but out of a foolishness that made him engage in the childish game you laid out.

Your presence ate away at him like a corrosive acid.

Each day he expected you to not be there. To disappoint him like everyone else.

But you never disappointed him, and he loathed it.

There was twice where he had made it past your building with no sign of you, and he had decided that the game was done and he could carry on with his existence, but then that frantic little voice of yours would make him stop. Calling after him like he was so important. Like you needed to give him your kindness as much as you assumed he needed to receive it.

Then he found himself slipping.

So stupid.

Putting off jobs or rerouting himself to pass your window. Just a glimpse- a reassurance that you were alright like double checking that you have your wallet when you leave the house.

Then it wasn’t enough. He began to sleep there on your stoop, picket sign beside him like an old friend. He didn’t care if he saw you in the mornings, but he saw the type of people who frequented the area and he wasn’t about to let a single one get past your door. He didn’t need the blood of a foolish woman on his hands as well.

The image of your bloodied, violated limp body made his stomach churn; just like it had when he found Blair Roche’s remains. And that was what scared him- or the closest thing he could feel to fear.

He held this pristine little being in his pale hand, and he knew that the longer he held it, the more likely it became that he would ruin it. Crush you in his palm just like that man had done to that little girl all those years ago…taking Walter Kovacs with him.

And he would not drag you down with him. He would not stoop to that monster’s level.

So he stopped showing you his disguise. He couldn’t have you know he was there, just like the rest of New York. He needed you to forget about him; treat him like a ghost you saw out of the corner of your eye.

When he was across the city that morning and still heard your voice behind him, he had felt his muscles tighten in distain.

Because then it wasn’t a game anymore. He was done.

But you were so insistent that you cared.

You truly cared.

You had spent god knows how long looking for him.

As soon as he had heard you, he had to steel his composure lest you attempt to lure him back into your scheme.

He hated that you had gotten him to speak, but he had watched you crumble under his words; it was alright that you were upset. He could handle that far easier than your kindness- perhaps you might even grow from a little cruelty.

Weeks passed, and he found himself returning to his usual schedule; almost appreciating the simplicity of the dullness and angst.

It was a Tuesday night when Rorschach sat on an old roof top, jotting down his visit to Daniel Dreiberg’s home- noting that he had gotten even lazier with his physique and needed to stop lying to himself about the state of the world. The odd scream and rushed fuck in an alley-way rang out below him here and there; the usual.

Dull, really. He sighed, and tucked the book inside his coat. He leaped down to the neighbouring roof, and trudged along it.

Then from down below, he swore he heard a familiar voice.

Rorschach almost rolled his eyes as he came to the edge of the roof and looked down. It was dark, but he knew your voice from a mile away- you had forced that skill upon him.

You were backing away from five men, all considerably more imposing than yourself and your warm drink. Hot chocolate to be exact. You always had at least one once a week…taking a stroll to a small coffee house-

Rorschach ground his fist into the brick to halt his unnecessary thoughts as he crouched.

He listened to the men taunt you, and saw them back you into an alley wall.

He watched, bored, waiting to see what might happen. Then the more he listened, the more he came to realize that the conversation being had sounded familiar.

“What you thought I’d be locked up forever, pumpkin? Nah they just needed some good behaviour ‘n that was enough for them to slap my ass outta there.” One of them laughed, and he neared your cowering form.

Rorschach noted just how badly you shook.

“What? You’re not happy to see me? Cmon now, don’t you have a kiss for daddy, hm?” The man sneered, successfully trapping you against the disgusting alley wall.

Rorschach began creeping down closer to hear, his eye twitching under his face when he watched the other men keep a look out and stare at you like meat on a plate.

“There you were thinking you were so smart with that speech of yours… “My boyfriend raped me and made me watch him launder all the money.”.”, he put on a horrible high pitched voice to mock you, “God you sounded pathetic. 15 fucking years…got out in 7…missed you, you know?”

Rorschach’s brain itched as he tried to recall this particular monster…it was all so-

Then it clicked.

That nagging familiarity of your face wasn’t a coincidence. He had seen you before, of course he had. He felt so stupid.

He had been outside the courthouse after you had given your heartbreaking testimony and that vile man was sentenced to 15 years for assault, murder, rape, and money laundering with attachments to drug trafficking to the homeless. Some monster with a god complex. He had seen you come down the stairs, one of your eyes still black, and head down as the onslaught of reporters and media flocked to you. You had been in the damn paper, why the hell didn’t he remember that. You were barely legal too…he remembered how his stomach had churned-

Your scream snapped him out of his memory, and he was leaping down into that alley before you could finish your cry for help. You sounded so terrified.

As Rorschach landed, a knife was held up to your lips, ready to carve your face. He felt rage fill his veins; was there no end to the putrid barbarians that staked their claim on what they saw fit?

He cleared his throat. Each head turned to him, including yours, as he stood.

As one of the most recognizable figures of New York’s underbelly, Rorschach was used to the look of fright directed at him. What he was not used to was the look of solace that washed over your tight features once your eyes locked onto his inkblot face.

Rorschach found something rewarding in your eyes.

Fuel.

The man holding your throat nodded for the man closest to Rorschach to attack first, which he did. His neck snapping echoed louder than your sobs.

The cold knife poked carelessly into your soft cheek, and you did your best to squirm away.

The next man to lunge at the vigilante smashed his bottle of beer against the brick wall, smirking as if his glass weapon would do any good. Rorschach let him get close. Then faster than a bullet he snatched the man’s weapon-laden hand and squeeze tight; the bottle breaking easily in his fist and puncturing the man’s hand like a balloon on a tack.

Two other men attempted to assault Rorschach, and each time he found such generous abundance of horror and dread in their eyes right before he gifted them each with an irreversible injury.

One after another, the men fell, until it was just Rorschach, the man holding you, and you.

He knew the dog had a name- knew he had heard it specifically- but he couldn’t bring himself to care. No doubt he would hear it over a news channel tomorrow.

The lout man held you tight, and knocked your head against the wall to stun you before turning to Rorschach. You slumped to the ground and watched as the masked vigilante took measured steps to him as if to speed up the process.

You had heard of the Watchmen before, and the countless criminals they had put away and subsequent lives they had saved…but Rorschach wasn’t what you had imagined. He didn’t tell you to save yourself or ask if you were alright. He was silent.

And somehow you found comfort in that-as if you were in the fight with him instead of a damsel in distress. You couldn’t look away, even going so far as looking for something to immobilize the brute of a man who had stolen so much from you all those years ago when you didn’t know any better.

Then once you looked up again, he was down in a heap.

You didn’t even see the altercation, but regardless there was an evident dent in the side of his bleeding head.

The filthy alley floor dug into your knees as you sat and stared. Your mind was playing catch-up with your eyes, and you felt as if the world had been eradicated from your shoulders.

You felt tears well in your eyes and a line of gratitude on your tongue.

Then the masked man turned to you and your entire world shifted when he spoke.

“Go home.” Was all he said.

But it wasn’t how he said it or what he said.

It was his voice.

You knew that voice.

You missed that voice.

You had wanted so badly to understand that voice…

Even the compact build and attitude were right.

Your lungs burned from you forgetting to breathe for a moment.

You stared up at his looming figure, eyes wide and tears long forgotten.

“It’s you…” you whispered. “You’re Rorschach.”

He let out a noise that sounded akin to a growl and a sigh. The sound send a shiver through your cold body. Then without another word, he pulled out a grappling hook like you had seen on the news, launched it, and disappeared into the smog and thick dark.

Rorschach berated himself for hours following the incident. So badly that he beat an old pimp into a coma and ripped his face off to breathe as he sat on a fire escape.

This was a nightmare.

You knew him. Knew his face and his voice.

He had slipped.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid.

There was only one thing he could think of that might rectify it, and it didn’t include you living.

He sighed.

Rorschach stood outside your door, returned to his disguise, and found that he could hear your footsteps through the thin wood. You were cleaning… doing something to distract yourself. Your hands were shaking judging by how you kept dropping things.

He knocked three times, and heard you pause at the sound. Paranoid. Frightened. You very quietly approached the door, and took a look through your peephole before falling completely silent.

You weighed your options; you could not open the door, and risk that pissing him off and breaking the door down…or you could open it and simply speed up the process of whatever it was he wanted. It took ten seconds before you pulled the door open for him.

There was no hiding how startled you were by him being there…now that you knew exactly who he was.

You were looking for something he say, he could practically hear your mind working away…up until your eyes fell on his bashed cheek and the blood drying there. You hadn’t realised he had gotten hit during the fight.

“Y-you’re hurt,” you murmured, and he nodded, not letting his eyes leave you. You sighed and stood aside, “Come in.”

He stared at you for a moment, then slowly walked past you into your home as if it was the first time he had been there. Like he didn’t know the layout and where you slept and how you folded your clothes or the hangers you used.

“Sit down.” You gestured to the couch, and offered a very small smile as if to reassure him that he was welcome there. That you weren’t holly terrified of him.

Rorschach sat, and watched you as you approached him with a cloth and small bowl of water. You sat close to him, and brought the cloth up to his cheek after wringing it out, but he caught your wrist before you could get any nearer.

He looked at you. Truly looked at you. Looked through you.

“You shouldn’t waste your tears on something so undeserving as a man.” He rumbled.

Your eyes were locked on his, and you felt as if all air was sucked out of you. You still weren’t used to that voice of his; pure gravel.

His words hung heavy in your ears, and you realized that you must have looked like an absolute mess- tears still drying on your cheeks from sobbing for your life in the alley.

He watched you take the tactless comment and he slowly released your wrist, and you gently began to clean his injury and grime on his face. There was a firm line between your brows as your worked- wiping the sharp planes of his face while trying to ignore his eyes on you, burning a hole through your skull.

His face came clean, and your bowl of water was murky and pink. This was possibly the most surreal nights you had had in a very long time. You went to get up but again, his hand caught your forearm and kept you seated. You looked from his hand to his face, staying quiet.

“Why are you helping me?” He snipped, grip tight.

You blinked, and searched his handsome face for any idea why he might doubt you aside from the fear he caused you.

You shook your head, “Why wouldnt-“

“Why?” Rorschach snarled, pulling you so close that you breathed the same air- those cold blue eyes of his harsh and intimidating.

You gasped, but refused to look away. His grip hurt, but he had saved your life and you were afraid that if you said or did the wrong thing he would disappear again. It was pathetic, you knew that, but you felt a strange bond to him.

And though he didn’t want to admit it, he felt an odd attachment to you as well.

For 45 years he had only ever seen the greed and filth that came from humanity; shaped from it, starting from the very womb he was born from. Lies and hatred, murder and rape and theft and horror beyond your imagination. For him to find your grey in amongst the rubble of humanity, it felt like good gold. He was waiting to rub away a coating of false innocence and find another piece of coal.

But there you were…coming whiter and whiter until-

Rorschach didn’t like being wrong. Being surprised. It was tedious.

But it would be a lie if he said you were anything but one of the innocents.

A good person.

Each of the deeds you had done for him had in fact come from a place of benevolence, and not deceit.

Rorschach let his grip on you lighten.

Despite your brain cautioning you of the vigilante in front of you, you simply stared back at him and ignored how strong his hold on you was.you did note that he released you slightly, the same moment his eye twitched.

“I think there’s something to that old saying of a wounded soul recognizing another wounded soul…you looked like you had some decency left in you, sir…please don’t tell me I was wrong.” Your voice was soft. Gentle. But no less direct than his. You were kind, not weak, and you were hoping against hope that he wasn’t like America’s favourite hero, the Comedian when it came to women; a line of them out his door begging for his sexual attention and him using them then tossing them aside as he pleased.

“Or maybe I’m just stupid.” You shrugged and looked away, afraid he might confirm your statement. You wouldn’t put it past him to be blunt.

Rorschach almost reacted to your use of that word. For so long he had labeled you as such, and while you might very well still be…he was sceptical to assume anything of you. He continued to stare, his sharp eyes cutting into you like you were a cloud of vapour. He relaxed his grip on you again, and stared at where he had held your arm- red finger marks forming on your clean skin. You must have washed yourself as soon as you had gotten home…scrubbed yourself clean from those vermin.

Good.

“I have…I have some dinner I was going to-um…well bring down for you…if you want it.” You began to shift uncomfortably under his gaze when he looked back at you. You swore he stared more than he spoke.

He nodded after a moment, and you smiled a little.

An incandescent sight.

“Okay.” You whispered, finally getting up. It was surreal.

Rorschach watched you go, noting that a pleasant scent followed after you.

Why did he notice that?

You walked to your little kitchen, and placed the dirty cloth and water in the sink before going to grab the pot of warm soup. You filled a bowl for him, and turned around to grab a spoon when you froze and jumped back, spilling some soup.

You hadn’t even heard him walk up behind you, didn’t even feel him even though he was a mere breath away.

“What are you…?” You murmured.

He watched you startle, and looked for any last ill intent or motive; any snark comment or any price you might want to put on your kindness…but nothing came.

It never did.

His breath was on your face, and you could only stare at him. There was a tragedy to him, hidden under the dirt, and he was impossible to read. He might have been plotting your gruesome death and you would have no idea.

Rorschach focused on you.

Fixated.

So innocent…white and pristine amongst the blood, filth and rot of his world. He hated it. Hated how you were allowed to be like that; a poster child for something that didn’t exist freely.

He sighed, pursing his mouth.

You had chosen this; you had decided to care for him. You had lead him down this path.

You had given yourself to him.

You looked away for a moment, and gingerly placed the bowl down before you spilled it. Then before you could think of anything to say with this dangerous man who was a hair away from you, you felt the skin of his lips catch yours when you turned back.

You wouldn’t call it a kiss- it was more of a hook or bait. A test. But when he did it again…that was a kiss; tentative and slight as it was. He heard your breath catch , and could feel the heat from your cheeks as they warmed and flushed.

You blushed.

Whores didn’t blush.

He kissed you again, with a little more force, and your hands came up slowly to his chest, resting there like you hadn’t decided if you wanted to draw him closer or push him away.

He might have been one of the most infamous men in New York…if not America, but he was flesh and blood underneath that mask. He was warm, and sturdy.

Rorschach was far from weak, but when he felt your soft lips brush back against his, he felt something deep inside him snap.

A low growl rumbled in his chest and he unclenched his fists; bringing his calloused hands up to grab the back of your head and your jaw to draw you closer as he backed you hard against the counter.

It was messy and Rorschach held you possesively as you gave into him. Your teeth clanked together, and your rhythm was fueled with need as he nipped and bullied his tongue into your eager mouth. He gripped your hair so tight it hurt your roots but you didn’t dare tell him to stop.

He only removed his hands from you to shuck off his jacket and gloves, mouth still sealed over yours, and then they were back on you. Grabbing at your flesh, drawing you closer; chest flush against yours.

You shakily forced your hands between and the two of you and began unbuttoning his shirt- the older man hummed in regards to your tremor.

You nervously loosened his tie and let your hands wander over the skin of his collar and chest. You hadn’t expected him to be so strong, but knowing who he was, it only made sense. Before you could get any further he weaved his fingers into your hair and pulled your head away from him.

Rorschach held you there for a moment, soaking in how you stilled so obediently; staring at you as his free hand began to gather the hem of your little night dress. He huffed, and gave your roots a quick squeeze, and the message was clear: “Stay.”

Then once he was satisfied with your cooperation, he brought his other hand down to the other side of your nightie and brought the garment up and over your head with ease. He let it fall to the ground, and you followed its descent; unable to look at the older man now that you were left in your panties while he was still almost fully clothed.

He placed two fingers under your chin to force you to look at him; you felt your blush deepen when you saw how blown his pupils were. He looked determined, and feral- deep breaths making his chest heave.

Before you could say a word, Rorschach scooped you into his arms and didn’t even pretend to not know where your bedroom was. A gasp escaped you, and your wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He carried you with little effort, and had you plopped down on your mattress in seconds. The older man crawled over you before you could even sit up; lips on yours, kissing you so hard your mouth grew tender. He only paused to pull back and kick off his trousers.

Then he was everywhere.

Rough hands grabbing at your soft skin; low rumbles and hums in his chest that vibrated against you and made you need him even more. He kissed and bit at you- marking you as his. You held onto his strong shoulders, whimpering and moaning quietly as he made you forget your own name and only know his.

Rorschach bit into your neck, and rocked firmly against you. You could feel him scorching and pulsing against your core, rubbing hard against you to create friction that had you forgetting to breathe.

“P-please” you whispered, raising your hips up to meet his.

The man stopped, and you immediately regretted saying anything. He pulled away to stare down at you. You thought you had done something wrong until he spoke.

“Say that again.” He murmured, his nose brushing yours.

Your quick beating heart was so clear for him to see, along with your nearly black eyes; the throbbing vein in your neck and pulse in your chest.

“Please…” you said again, lips red and swollen.

He sucked in a breath. Having your warm, soft skin against his bare chest was the first human contact he had felt in decades. It made him feel…human. He was fighting to maintain his practiced composure, but he could feel it slipping through his fingers with that one word.

“Again.” He rasped against your lips, throat tight; invading every inch of your space. He knew he shouldn’t ask it of you, but be needed this. He needed you to say it again.

You swallowed.

“…please.” Came your timid, needy voice. Your hands started to fidget as he refused to look away, barely blinking as he took you in. Drank your generous vulnerability.

Rorschach hummed low in his chest.

“You’re mine.” He growled simply, the skin of his lips catching yours as he spoke.

Your mind was gone already, sitting in that bowl of cold soup on the counter.

You could only nod.

He sighed through his nose, and then it was as if the last part of his restraint broke. Rorschach locked his lips onto yours, and you parted yours to gasp as his hand came to your hip- squeezing and stroking your skin. His tongue moved against yours and you let out a surprised moan that he swallowed greedily. Then just as quickly, he ripped himself away from you, and you watched his veiny hands as they pulled himself from his boxers; painfully hard and leaking precum. You’d be lying in you said you hadn’t thought highly inappropriate things about the man- something about his simplicity and your need to please him. He lowered himself over you, resting his weight onto you as he bit at your lips.

Low hums would rumble through him and you couldn’t help but think he was purring. He perched onto his forearms, and shifted closer; you gasped when you felt the tip of his cock against your entrance, and choked out a cry when it entered you without warning.

There was no sweetness. It was blunt, and clear as day.

Rorschach rested his head into your neck as he hunkered over you and pushed forward, then drew back; fucking himself into you. You were no virgin, but you might as well have been. It only took two brutal thrusts before his hips were flush with yours and you were clinging to him pathetically.

You whimpered in his ear at the stretch of him so deep inside you. You couldn’t help but squirm slightly in an attempt to get used to him. Rorschach brought a hand to rest at the nape of your neck to keep you still as he drew out of you again then snapped back into you, making your body bounce under him. It was as if he was testing you…or perhaps testing himself.

Then you felt a puff of his hot breath as he quickened his pace, taking full advantage of how soaked you were for him. You could feel him throb inside you, and you suddenly remembered that he was only a man…a much older man who was rutting inside you like he owned you. The thought alone had you moan into his shoulder as his fat tip dragged against your insides and bruised your cervix. You rolled your hips with him, gasping at how hard he gripped your hip and neck.

He was possessive and harsh in his need for you. Like a man who had been starved and you were his first meal.

And he would devour you.

You felt his pace pick up and his thrusts turned harder and sloppier. He locked his arms around your shoulders to keep you still as he bruised your pelvis. Your back arched and hips met his in a need to feel every inch of him. You hooked your legs behind him to bring him closer. You could feel him huff into your neck, a rumble in his chest.

“I-inside me- please…” you managed to croak out, though you doubted he would listen to any request that he didn’t like at that point. He was going to make you his in every sense, and that meant filling you with his cum.

Rorschach growled deep into your shoulder and bit into your flesh. You felt him pulse inside you, then a warmth spread inside your navel as he emptied his cum into you. It had a comfort to it that made you cling to him, nuzzling your face into his strong shoulder. Ragged breaths were in your ear as he hammered into you a few more times like he was proving a point. Making sure you knew that you were his now…his secret.

You panted with him, and clenched reflexively as he began to pull out. You already missed the warmth he brought you. His shoulders were visibly more relaxed as he moved to lay beside you, and you slowly grasped his jaw and brushed your lips against his, which he returned ever harder. You pulled away, and you liked that he hummed when you did.

The man beside you leaned up onto his arm to stare down at you thoughtfully. As if he was trying to read something on you. Your skin flushed with warmth under his scrutiny, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell him that you didn’t cum.

When you moved your hand down between your legs where his cum now leaked from you, you twitched. Every inch of your skin was hypersensitive and when you touched your clit you almost flinched at the contact. All of which instantly drew the attention of the man beside you. He stared at you intently- a deep line between his red brows.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

His scrutiny was jarring, though you noticed it wasn’t judgemental…it was studious. Curious. You looked away from him, and felt very naked under his gaze, afraid he might ridicule you for something like that. It wouldn’t be the first time you had gone to take care of yourself and a man had almost laughed in your face.

“I’m…I didn’t um…” you tried, but he watched you so closely, and felt as if he was studying you.

He was.

Then he understood. His eyes widened ever so slightly.

“Oh…” he rasped, looking down where your hand had been. You bit your thumb nail as you waited to see what he would do or say. You liked this man more than you would care to admit, but you knew men could be selfish…and uncaring…and mean. Hell, you had never had anyone make you cum besides yourself, and your expectations were not-

Your thoughts were halted when you felt the warmth of his calloused hand on yours. You watched as he very simply took your hand from your mouth, and returned it to between your thighs, and looked back at you expectantly. At first it felt like a slap in the face, as if he was telling you to take care of yourself…but with how intensely he was gazing at you, you realised he was examining your every move. You moved your fingers and he regarded them carefully. Like it mattered greatly to him.

The older man committed everything to memory; when you petted, when you were gentle, when you moaned, when you pressed harder, when you stroked, when you arched your back, when your hand started to shake, when your brows pitched up, when you slipped your fingers inside yourself.

You found yourself unable to look away from him even as your eyes drooped and your mouth dropped open in a permanent sigh. Your breaths were coming in little gasps, and you didn’t even notice he was just as effected as you- his chest heaving as he took deep, controlled breaths.

You slowly pumped your fingers inside yourself, stroking your g-spot; then gasped out a soft whine at the contact on your sensitive flesh, at which point Rorschach deemed to be enough watching for his liking. He snatched your little hand and replaced it with his own far larger and rougher hand.

You gasped when he touched you so accurately…but this time you gasped for him.

He leaned over you, his lips just a breath away as if to breathe in your whines and pleas. Watching what he did to you.

His thumb drew small, feathery circles around your clit; alternating between direct but tentative touch, and agonizingly slow strokes that didn’t quite touch it. You began to pant, and your hands found his strong shoulders- hanging on like a lifeline. The older man hummed, and looked away from you for a moment to watch what he was doing, how slick his hand had become as a result. Once he had your hips rolling up into his palm, he eased a finger inside you, although his was noticeably longer and thicker than yours.

You gasped at the sensation.

“I-if you- ah! Can you move l-like this?” You showed him how to curl his finger inside you and he instantly followed your instruction, and even added a second finger; you cried pathetically as you surrendered to his mercy.

He stroked your inner walls for a few moments until he found what he was looking for. Once he made contact with that hypersensitive patch inside you, you let out a gasped moan that you tried to cover with your hand, but Rorschach was having none of that. His free hand that had cradled your head smacked your hand away and didn’t even pause his ministrations. This was just as much for him as it was for you. He wanted to know everything he did to you.

You whined softly against his mouth.

The movement of your hips began to be more deliberate as your body chased its craving. As if catching onto what you needed, he focused on that spot inside of you, and you let a series of moans slip from your mouth. Your pelvis bucked up into his touch, and you could have sworn that amongst the focused breathing and studious stare, you saw that man smirk.

Smirk.

He huffed out a ragged sound that must have been a laugh.

He continued to watch you, and you found yourself lost in the feeling of him and the sight of his eyes staring down at you like you were the most important thing at that moment.

Like there was nothing he would rather be staring at.

It took only a few more moments of his careful ministrations before you were falling apart in his arms. Your back arched up off the bed as you gripped his fingers like a vice inside you, and he continued his strokes, though he slowed them considerably.

The steady drag of his fingers inside you set your veins on fire. There was a mess of your and his cum between your thighs,and he used the saturated slickness to lazily finger you; carrying you through your high.

As you eyes refocused and unglazed, you stared back at him, and caught his lips with yours. He eagerly returned your needy kiss, and very gently removed his hand from your cunt.

You lacked proper judgement and acted purely on what you wanted; with his hand resting on your penvis, soaked and sticky, you took his wrist in your hand. You didn’t want to know how much blood had been shed because of those hands, not in that moment to be specific, but what you did know was that he had you wrapped around those fingers tight. You lifted them to your lips licked the slickness off of them, cleaning him. You flicked your eyes up to his, and we’re startled be how close he had moved. He hummed low in his chest when your tongue slowly lapped at them to clean him.

He drew his hand away from you, kissed you; holding you jaw surprisingly gently as if you didn’t have the shape of his hands bruising your hips or an ache deep inside you.

Your head felt light and disconnected.

Rorschach pulled away after a moment, and propped his head onto his hand to watch you. He gingerly traced your face shape with his finger, as if mapping and memorizing you. Touching your eyebrows, the ridge of your nose, your cheekbones.

He was lost in his own little world.

“I like the way you sound when you cum.” He said so a-matter-of-fact.

Your cheeks went rosy and warm. You didn’t know if you should thank him, so you grinned sweetly.

There was something in him that made it compelling to watch him. Something drawing you in as he stared back with such fixation. You didn’t know how to look away.

Not until your eyelids drooped and exhaustion took you. You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but you did know that when you awoke, your blanket was laid over you, your hair was out of your face, and you had a pair of crystal blue eyes staring back at you. Rorschach looked to have not moved an inch since you had fallen asleep. His head still propped in his hand, watching.

“Did you sleep?” You asked, rolling closer to him; your head and body consumed by your pillows and blankets.

He shook his head.

“You do you ever sleep?” You flicked your eyes across his face.

And he shook his head again.

You placed your hand on his cheek. His face didn’t soften- it never did, you noted. But regardless, his attention was on you entirely; you stared at him like he did you, then smiled gently at him.

“Thank you for trusting me.” You whispered, and he clearly hadn’t expected such a thing.

Again, he didn’t move from his place, but you noted the twitch in his brow, and small smirk that sat in the corner of his mouth. Perhaps he thought you foolish, but you didn’t care.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, and pulled away quickly even when he chased you. A displeased huff escaped him, but you eased it away when you gently hitched your leg over him. He grabbed your waist as if anticipating something volatile, but when you leaned over him, your chest against his, he seemed to pause mentally. You nestled your hips against his, your thighs on either side. With nothing between you, the feeling of his hardening cock against your lips was evident. The older man’s warmth radiated into you. You felt his fingers start to dig into your hips where he gripped you, squeezing the flesh as if he was about to lift you off. But then, you rolled your hips against him, sliding along his shaft easily given how slick you were already. He stopped all trains of thought he had for a moment when the sensation registered in his nerve-endings.

His gaze continued to make you self-conscious, but you wouldn’t shy away from him now.

You repeated the motion again, and felt him twitch and harden under you; you gasped when his hands held you firmer. You enjoyed the feeling of his cock under you, and your eyes began to glaze over when you felt the swollen tip catch your entrance, slipping inside you without warning. The soreness you felt from the night before didn’t stop you though. You watched him carefully, and while his stare was intense and focused, there was no unease or resistance.

Your cheeks flushed and you couldn’t help but stutter, “I-is this okay?” To the nearly silent man.

Again, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he gripped your hips tighter and bucked more of him into you.

You took that as a yes.

Encouraged by his action, you rolled your hips on him a few more times to get more of him inside you; a whimper and a gasp escaped you as he filled you so completely- the stretch painful but addictive. Your slower pace appeared to bother him and he ground you down onto him to get his cock fully inside you. The force made you breathe out another gasp; your hands found their place on his muscled chest to steady yourself.

With you both satisfied with being locked together, you slowly bucked your hips, drawing him in and out of you. You felt his grip grow more possessive, almost pawing at you as he held you.

You started slow, and deliberate; angling your hips to have his cock drag against your g-spot. At the first contact, your tempo stuttered, and your choked on a moan. He seemed to find your pleasure amusing as he hummed and began to meet your thrusts. He seemed to understand what to feel for after a moment when he stroked that sensitive patch, and you noted that he was very particular about hitting it.

Then you started to notice just how much pleasure he was receiving when his lips parted and the tendons in his neck began tighten.

Each time you came down on his shaft, you felt him reciprocate the movement- grinding up into you. It was as if he knew exactly what to feel for that made your toes curl.

You could barely hold a thought in your head as you felt fire brew in your veins and a tightness in your pelvic muscles.

You tilted your head back, and your arms that were braced on his chest buckled; bringing you closer to him. Your head fell back down and your eyes locked onto his- pupils blown. There was a new intensity to his face, a determination.

Then, as if he had had enough of you in charge, the man suddenly gripped you waist and flipped you onto your back. He crawled over you, and slipped his cock back inside you, earning him a whine and gasp from your sweet throat. He found a rhythm identical to the one you had set atop him, and your lips parted when you felt him angle his hips to target that spot inside you; the intense drag of his cock hitting it each time. He rendered you speechless in seconds.

After mewling and huffing out breaths, you finally managed to find a couple words.

“H-harder…” you forced out, “Ple-ase.” You pleaded.

It seemed he was intent to oblige. The gradual roll of his pelvis escalated into a harsher snap of his hips that had him watching you with rapt interest when you cried out.

Out of habit from your past, your hand flew to your mouth just like it had the night before, but just like then, he grabbed your wrist and pinned it beside your head without a moments thought. You felt scrutinized and your cheeks began to heat up so much you felt the warmth spread down your neck.

He wanted to know exactly what he did to you.

And that thought alone forced your body to clench and melt for him simultaneously.

With his careful ministrations, your orgasm grew quickly- an overwhelming amount of pleasure spawning inside you that you hadn’t felt before. Just as you had asked, he kept his pace steady and firm. His desire to know how to play you as he liked made your brain go dizzy with need, and you were intent to follow his wishes. While it made you flush even more to tell him what you needed, you swallowed your pride and forced another pathetic whimper from you. “Slower…please.” You breathed.

At your request, he leaned down over you more, his chest almost flush with yours. He kept your one hand pinned while he used his other hand to pull your thigh up and pushed your knee to your chest.

The change had your eyes rolling back, and you heard him hum; vibrations from his chest buzzing into yours making your fingertips tingle.

It took all of ten seconds before your thighs shook and you desperately rolled your hips up to meet his. He watched as your brows pitched up and your swollen lips parted. Your face flushed in ecstasy.

Rorschach could feel you tense around his cock, and smirked to himself when he felt a rush the of your cum soaking him inside you. You nearly sobbed. Eyes glassy and back arching as you came.

The older man slowed his pace, until eventually stopping all together, but only for a moment. He leaned his nose down into the crook of your neck, and inhaled softly. His grip still possessive; it made you shiver.

Then, just as you settled, he snapped his hips once, forcing his cock back into your tightened heat and he pulled away from your neck to stare you down- nose bumping against yours. You cried out from the impact and looked up at him. He had your attention now. And he began to fuck into you steadily again, but growing in need.

His message was clear.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

And he certainly was not.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[strniohoeee]

Sharp

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Matt and Y/N go out ice skating, but Matt forgets his gloves at home….Y/N offers him another idea on how to warm his fingers up. Will he take the offer?🤞🏽

Warnings⚠️: FINGERINGGGGGGG OH YEAH…..and that’s about it. This is an idea @flowerxbunnie and @lustfulslxt and I spoke about because of Matt’s little skinny fingers, and they uhh nominated me to be the one to write it 😀

Song for the imagine: Teenage Fever- Drake

⚠️This is an 18+ imagine, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

You say the word, I’m on the way

This shit feels like teenage fever

I’m not scared of it, she ain’t either

I was sitting at home bored and missing Matt, so I decided to call him

“Hey baby” he said on the second ring

“Hi Matt” I said

“How are you my love” he asked me

“I’m good, I’m just bored, and I miss you” I said twirling my hair

“Want to do something fun” he asks lowly

“Ouu define fun” I said smirking

“You dirty minded fuck, I was thinking like an actual activity” he said laughing

“I know a fun activity you and I can do” I said

“Alright be careful with your next words” he said back

“Uhh you’re boring, want to go ice skating?” I asked him huffing out a breath

“I’m down” he said

“Okay yay! Could you pick me up?” I asked him

“Was already planning on it princess” he responded

“Ouu princess I like that” I said smiling

“Alright you weirdo. Be ready I’ll be there in 25” he said giggling

“Uhh fine see you soon, and drive safe” I told him

“Thank you babe, I will” he responded before hanging up

I was already dressed for the day, so all I had to do was get my coat on. After 25 minutes Matt pulled up to my house honking the horn to let me know I was there.

I threw my coat on and headed out. I got into his car immediately leaning over and giving him a kiss

“Sup baby” he said slyly

“Ew don’t ever say that” I said giving him a dirty look

“I’m trying to be flirty and this is what I get” I said rolling his eyes

“Uh oh Mattitude” I said throwing my hands up

“Shut up, weirdo” he said laughing at me

“Ouu I like when you’re mean” I said poking his cheek

“Stop being such a freak” he said laughing and pushing my hand away

He drove us to the ice skating rink, and shockingly it was too packed. I figured it was because it was so cold outside not many people wanted to ice skate outdoors.

“Look baby it’s not too busy” Matt said pulling into a parking spot

“Good, less people in my way” I said taking my seatbelt off

“Love the attitude” he said getting out the car

I rolled my eyes, and got out, shutting the door behind me, and walking to Matt. We interlocked fingers as we walked to the entrance

“Ou your fingers are cold, and the rings don’t help” I told Matt

“Well it is 35 degrees outside” he said looking at me making a dumb face

“Ouu sometimes I want to smack that dumb look off your face” I said to him

“Yeah yeah” he said rolling his eyes

We had got in and paid, walking over to get our skates. We had changed into our skates, and heading out to the rink

Matt and I had been skating for a while, just chatting and laughing, but I kept seeing him rub his hands together

“Cold?” I asked him

“Yes captain obvious” he said looking at me

“Spicy today” I said laughing at him

“Yeah I’m fucking cold, and you know with my joint problems in my hands my fingers are sensitive” he said warming his hands up

“Why don’t you put your gloves on” I told him

“You’re right” he said digging into his coat for his gloves

“Shit” he said looking over at me

“What happened?” I asked

“I think I left my gloves in my other coat” he said annoyed

“Awww noo” I said looking at his hands

“It’s fine. I’ll be okay” he said

We continued to skate a little longer, and I knew the cold was bothering his hands as he couldn’t stop trying to warm them up

“Why don’t we just head out?” I asked him

“No it’s fine, I’m okay” he said looking at me

“I don’t know Matt, your hands are like ice” I said to him

“Yeah but it’s okay” he said smiling at me

“I know a way to warm them up” I said smirking at him

“Oh yeah?” He asked smiling at me

“Yeah….you, me in the back seat….your hands in between my legs” I said whispering

“Mm does sound nice” he said blushing

“What do you say?” I asked him

“Mm I don’t know there’s people here we could get caught” he said

“We won’t, come on baby it’ll be fun” I told him

“Alright let’s go” he said

We skated back to the exit, and returned our skates and put our shoes back on. We walked back to the car, and I got in the back while Matt turned the car on to put the heat on. He then joined me in the back seat

“You’re so naughty” he said before kissing me

“Only for you, plus I want to help my baby out” I said giving him doe eyes

“You’re too good to me” he said kissing me one last time

Matt started to kiss my jawline and then down to my neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses

“Shit Matt” I moaned out

“Come on baby help me get you out of these pants” he said pulling away

I lifted up so he could help me pull my leggings down along with my underwear

He ran his hand along my thighs, immediately getting goosebumps at his cold fingers

“Too cold?” He asked

“No it feels so good” I said looking at his hand move along my skin

Slowly Matt brought his hand down to my clit, I jumped at the feeling of his cold fingers, and he started to rub

“Fuck Matt that feels so good” I said looking over at him

“Yeah?” He asked smirking at me

He used his cold fingers to rub my arousal around, sending shock waves through my body

Slowly Matt sunk his cold ring clad middle finger into me

“Fuck Matt that feels so fucking good” I moaned out at the sensation

“So warm and tight” he whisper in my ear causing me to shudder

He slowly pumped his finger in and out of me before adding his ring finger in

“Oh god” I moaned out throwing my head back

Matt was thrusting his two fingers in and out at a rapid speed all that could be heard was the obscene sounds of his fingers delving into my cunt, and my moans

“Such a mess for me” he said watching me watch his fingers go in and out

“Always for you my love” I said looking over at him and kissing him

He continued to finger me pushing up against my g spot

“I’m going to cum…fuck” I moaned throwing my head back again

“Come on baby cum for me” he said as he started to finger me faster, and used his thumb to rub my clit

“OH GODDDDD” I moaned out lifting my hips off the seat

“I’m gonna cum matt I’m gonna cum” I said letting my jaw fall slack

“Come on baby you got this” he said, my cunt making obscenely wet sounds as his fingers thrusted up into me

“SHIT SHIT SHIT” I said as I was beginning to cum

“MATTTT” I moaned out as I was cumming on his fingers and my thighs started to shake. He continued to finger me allowing me to ride my high out

Once I came down from my high he removed his fingers from my cunt. Immediately sticking them in his mouth and licking them clean

“So good to me” he said holding eye contact

“Fuck Matt that was so good” I said catching my breath

“My fingers are all warmed up now, thank you baby” he said kissing me

“Anytime if it means your cold ring clad fingers can be buried deep in me” I said putting my underwear on and my pants

“Dirty girl” he said laughing at me

“Oh shut it, take me home” I said rolling my eyes

“Ouu for more?” He asked winking at me

“Of course for more” I said leaning over and kissing him

We both hopped in the front and he drove us back to my place where we had way more fun….

The End

This one was pretty short, but it was cuteeeee🧎🏽‍♀️💍. Anywho I got some more ideas cooking up in my dome. I just don’t know how to write them LMAOO

-J💅🏽

[milkywaydrabbles]

Flufftober 35 with Alucard? Maybe a chubby reader, everyone likes a soft pillow :3

A/N: This was nice to write, I appreciate this type of ask ;A; I try to keep it neutral when describing reader normally (outside of the fact they're AFAB and fem!bodied) but I love reading/writing about a chubby girlie!! I hope you enjoy it!

"You're my new pillow" x Alucard

It didn’t take long for you and Alucard to become an item. He really couldn’t keep his eyes off of you for longer than two minutes whenever you were around (and that already was pushing it. Trevor would know, he actively counted so he can prove a point.) He tried to stay ‘mysterious’ and ‘alluring’ – but that was hard to do when all he wanted to do was talk to you about anything and everything that came to mind. Whatever would occupy you enough to not leave, to stay with him. It was embarrassing–Or so he would have thought if he wasn’t too enamored with looking at you and your soft figure. It was a breath of fresh air, he thinks, seeing your curves soft and round, fats of your hips squishing from the edges of your pants. He wonders if you realize you would be revered as a goddess in ancient Rome and Greece–he hopes you do. He’d even dare say that the goddesses don’t hold a candle to you, round face with cheeks that squish up when you smile at him so sweetly, chubby fingers that fiddle with the edge of your skirt when you’re picking dirt off it after dragging too close to the muck. His hands itched to simply hoist you up himself so you didn’t have to walk around the mud. Whatever to make your life easier.

Trevor and Sypha were starting to feel bad for him–it was so obvious that he had fallen so deeply in love with you over the last few weeks and yet wouldn’t do anything about it (something about being a gentleman, whatever.) So without his knowledge, Sypha started having ‘girl time’ with you, trying to push you into asking him, even if just out to dinner. Literally anything to get you alone with him. You were terrified really, but decided to take the jump and ask Alucard out on a date, just a simple dinner at your place–you promised you cooked well (and you made well on that promise! He thought it was delicious!)

Alucard asked for your hand in courtship that night.

And here you both are, however many years later in the castle you’ve come to know as your home, cuddling on the love seat in the study that you begged him to bring in, you wanted to press yourself up close to him as he read (of course the big sap did exactly that). And Alucard still looked at you with the same adoration as he did the first time he laid eyes on you–with hearts in his eyes, hands squeezing the chub of your hips and roaming your soft belly–he wouldn’t have you any other way. He decided he wanted to get more comfortable after feeling your soft and warm skin–

“Adrian, what are you doing?” You couldn’t help but giggle, hands moving away from your lap to give the grown man more space (his legs were hanging off the loveseat) before running your chubby fingers through his blonde curls. The dhampir simply smiled, fangs poking out the sides of his mouth as he closed his eyes. “You’re more comfortable than the seat–so I’ve decided you’re my new pillow.” You laughed again, rolling your eyes playfully at your loving husband. There were days that you couldn’t look at yourself, wishing you’d be able to lose the extra fluff that you had–thinking that Alucard deserved someone more...fit. Skinnier. Prettier. But he always made such an effort so that you’d understand he’d never leave you for anyone else, that he loved you so much for who you are, and that the extra fat was just more for him to love. He reminded you every day in different ways of that. And you figured that right now, might be one of those ways. You did love seeing him so comfortable in your lap... “Hmm..” You hummed, looking over to the crackling fire in the hearth scratching at his scalp. “You seem a bit too long for my lap, dear.” He cracked an eye to look at you, knowing you were already poking fun. And he loved the apples of your cheeks rounding up on your face with your smile.

“But I’d rather be nowhere else, my love.”

[doryisdaydreaming]

I drew a butch yandere serial killer btw. hehe my very first female yandere OC :3

Lore's below the cut👇🏽

My writing skills are bad so uhh sorry if i made mistakes here and there.

Her name's Jane. She's 35. I imagine Y/N to be around 39 years old? You're basically someone who loves spending time online, especially on discord. There's an online gaming server where you and a couple of other people chat and play almost everyday. One day, this stranger joined the server but she was a lil clueless about how discord works? So you sent her a dm, to guide her because you felt bad. You guys chatted all night long and immediately became friends! She was all shy in the server but was a bit more outgoing when she was talking to you in your dm! You ended up becoming best friends with her! A year passed and then one day, due to a business trip, you had to fly over to her country for work. She insisted that you stay a little longer in her country after you're done with work. Afterall, your work will only require you to stay there for two days or so... Might as well stay a little longer at your bestie's place right? You were excited to finally meet her irl! You guys are gonna have so much fun!!

After you were done with work, you checked out of the hotel you stayed at and waited at a cafe nearby for Jane! She said she was gonna be there at 6 pm , and it's already 6.30.. You wondered if she's okay.. A couple of minutes passed and she showed up!... Looking completely pale and nervous..

Jane has opened up to you about her agoraphobia and social anxiety before, so you felt bad for her. After eating dinner together, the two of you decided to head back to her place. You both got into her car and left. As you were admiring the sunset, you started feeling really sleepy and eventually dozed off.

When you woke up, you felt a warm blanket on top of you. You thought of sleeping in for another five minutes before realizing that you dozed off earlier in Jane's car, and that the bed you were sleeping in wasn't your bed.. you woke up immediately and looked around, wondering who's bedroom you were in. You walked out of the room and bumped into Jane!

Jane said that you dozed off and she didnt wanna wake you up so she carried you into her cabin and let you sleep on her bed.. Hold on.. cabin? Where are you right now? You looked out the window and saw nothing but trees. Jane lives in a cabin..in the middle of the woods.

Huh, you knew Jane was the type of person that doesn't like being among other people, but living all the way out here? In the middle of the woods? You didn't really expect that. But oh well it's fine, the line's still okay. You can still browse through the internet and play online games together! Or even call for help!

Wait what? Oh well, it's probably nothing. This week is gonna be the best week ever! You're gonna be sooo sad when you have to fly back home at the end of the week.. but no need to think about it now, Jane's right here, with you! It's just the two of you now!

[impishtubist]

tell us more about the new years incident of 1997 👀

Why, yes, I will!

Obv, Sirius and Remus raised Harry, and also they had a million children over the years. But by Harry's fifth year, they SWEAR they're done. Completely, 100% done. Remus is so OVER being pregnant and he's 35 now, he's DONE.

Except. Well.

Harry graduates Hogwarts and moves out. Two more of their children start Hogwarts that September. Their youngest is no longer a toddler. There are a lot of changes happening, all right? And they're nostalgic about the whole thing.

There are lots of changes in the wizarding world, too! Sirius is a menace at the Ministry and pushes through a bunch of progressive legislation. Kingsley Shacklebolt becomes Minister. Things are bright and hopeful and they're kind of high on it all.

Anyway, Shacklebolt throws a New Year's celebration in 1997 (with his lovely and very understanding Muggle husband), and invites all his friends, family, and people from the Ministry. Sirius and Remus are there with their brood, and as the night wears on, they have a bit too much to drink. And they're very, very happy. Just like everyone else, of course! Nothing strange about that!

But then they get a little...handsy. And then more than a little handsy. And then suddenly there's a piercing scream because Molly Weasley has walked in on them in, um, a compromising position in the bathroom, which of course brings the whole party running. (Thankfully the little kids went home to bed hours ago). But all the adults are still there, so within about 15 minutes everyone knows that the two were caught fucking in the bathroom. Anyway, baby Oscar makes his appearance nine months later, yay!