#slowly being able to add 'kind of knows what a hand looks like now' to my portfolio yee haw

[poppy-metal]

oooh what if fail marriage!art after separating with reader and being a sad miserable fuck now with tashi and patrick, sees you on a date, like on a random tuesday evening? He sees you all dolled up with this guy and you‘re smiling and giggling and tashi and patrick just feel him vibrating from anger and sadness next to them. How long has it been that he made you smile like that? How long has it been, that you wore something slutty like that for him on date night (when was the last date night ouchies)

sm came over me this au is dangerous.... cause why did i add some reader x patrick drama at the end..... failmarriage au is slowly riding closer and closer to toxic polycule but its gonna be drama drama drama till we get there !!

tashi has to put a hand on his arm to physically stop him from picking up a knife and slitting his throat - or yours - committing a murder - suicide. he thinks god is punishing him. because there's just no way, no way, the one night hes able to drag himself from bed to go out with patrick and tashi you're at very same restaurant. with another man.

and you look beautiful, like honesty his lips are parted, mouth open - because your style has always been a little on the modest side, you wore it well, sundresses and long skirts and blouses. you looked lovely in them.

but this - a skin tight body suit. black and hugging every curve on your body. he knows your body. well, he knew it. not as well as he wanted to, maybe, but he'd seen you naked - he'd been inside you countless times. but this. it feels new. it feels like hes seeing you for the first time. your tits look amazing, somehow appearing fuller with the fabric of the bodysuit clinging to you. and your ass.... he could weep, he really could. it moves like water when you walk, the smooth glide of your steps making the cheeks jiggle just the right way. strappy heels that accentuate your legs.

even patrick lets out a 'damn' and tashi would shoot him a glare except she's staring at you too. all of them just kind of gawk as you walk past them - you dont even look their way - you must have noticed art, you must have - and settle into a booth across the restaurant from them. you're smiling at your date. lips painted a dark seductive red.

art wants to go over to you. stab your date in the eyes. fall to his knees. beg for you to take him back, spare him a glance, just let him touch you. he misses the feel of you, the unique texture of your skin. the way you giggle when your ankle receives soft touches because you're ticklish. are you going to spread your legs for that man tonight? are you going to let his touched burn away arts?

he swallows. sets down his silverware. "im going out to the car." he can't watch. tashi frowns at him, like she wants to say something, encourage him to say, encourage him to talk to you, even, but he just looks at her, pleading. wordless communication that they've gotten down to a science and her lips press into a thin line, her eyes going sad. she nods and drops her hand from his arm. lets him leave.

you watch him go, taking a sip of your drink to hide your expression. the unpleasant turn of your mouth at the way he walks out, head down, fingers nervously twisting the watch on his wrist. you crunch ice between your teeth, swallow down the disappointment of his easy retreat. typical of him, to recede instead of fight.

your eyes catch on tashi's - dark and cunning, assesseing and all too aware, like shes peeling you like an orange and she knows what she'll find - you look down quickly. focus back on the date you'll inevitably ghost.

____

patrick zweig is smoking a cigarette behind the restaurant for a moment - tashi is paying the bill - art is moping in the car still, probably. its just a brief moment of reprieve from the borish melancholy cloud he'll be suffocated in the moment he gets in that car and gets engulfed in the pathetic yearning permeating from art like slick oil, and the even worse tension from tashi over her inability to fix the situation.

god, he just wants to fuck. he expected to be getting alot more ass when art moved in, if he was being honest. like a full on fuckfest. you'd come around eventually - as soon as the facade of a boring monogamous marriage lost its appeal and you realized you'd been missing the thrill you had in college when all of you, the four of you, were in eachothers orbit at all times.

but it'd just been a fucking drag. all he'd gotten was one sad moment, where he'd been throating arts cock and enjoying himself very much, before art had started crying - going on about how he missed your mouth - very mood killing. not that he'd mind if art pretended he was fucking your throat instead of patricks, because that'd be kinda hot, but the tears were a bit much. he hadn't touched art since. he didn't know if he and tashi were fooling around, but he doubted it was a common occurrence with the amount of time art spent moping.

he was on his last drag when the back door swung open and you stepped out into the humid night air. you startled to see him, like a frightened doe, and made to grab the door handle, "oh, im sorry -"

"no - stay." he blew out a cloud of smoke, right in your face - "i got something i wanted to ask you, anyway." he stubs the cig under his shoe.

your eyes dart around nervously but you lower your hand. cross your arms like its chilly. maybe your own cold heart keeps you cold, fuck if he knows.

he leans a shoulder on the brick of the building as he studies you - eyes perusing your outfit languidly. his lips twist, like he's hiding a smirk.

"this is new."

you shift on your heeled feet. look away, "you dont know enough about me to know if its new or not."

patrick straightens and steps forward, you hadn't realized his hunching posture before was doing so much to hide his height until then, when you have to crane your head to look up at him, scramble backwards so he doesn't bump your chest with his.

"see that's what pisses me off about you." he pokes you, and you jolt at the sensation of the touch "i do know you. because before you decided to become betty fucking crocker we used to be what you call 'friends'. do you know what that word means? or have you sniffed so much lysol your little brain gave you temporary amnesia."

your mouth parts in shock. you stare at him, speechless. speechless because its been years since anyone has talked to you this way, speechless because the only person who did were him and tashi, when they'd call you out, pull you out of your shell - it makes your cheeks flood with heat.

"i-" you scramble for what to say, trying to pull words, defenses out of the air. "i dont have amnesia...." fucking great line.

patrick nods. "right, okay. so-" he waves a hand in the air, his wedding band glinting in the moonlight. you want to look at it. see if it resembles the one you and art share. you didn't attend his and tashi's wedding. guilt pricks at you. "my question for you is how long do you plan on playing this game? because that's what this is. and dont -" he shakes his head with a laugh - " and dont give me that shit about art and tashi when you know damn well how they felt about eachother in college. you still married the guy. you wanna know why?" another step. you can smell him. spicy and sharp. something tashi would have bought him, no doubt. its too polished to be something he'd pick for himself.

you inhale. lashes fluttering with the memory of the over expensive boysih cologne he wore in boarding school - in college - the kind that stung your nose, but. but made you feel comforted. because it was so distinctly patrick.

"because deep down you know he loves you just as much. you've always known. and this whole act you're putting on-" he looks you up and down, "- of the scorned neglected housewife? its tired. its fucking boring. i mean-" he licks his lips, leans down so close his nose almost brushes yours. "-does art know you almost let me eat your pussy on prom night?"

you gasp, stepping away. flushing. eyes wide. "no." you gasp, voice small. "that was - you promised you'd never -"

"i promised my friend I'd never bring it up again." he looks at you, "you're not my friend, sweetheart. haven't been for awhile."

you glare at him. patrick smiles. one dimple indenting his cheek. so boyishly charming for a man in his 30s. you want to kick him.

"i hate you." you hiss. "i hate all of you."

"uh huh -" patrick shrugs, shoves his hands in his pockets. starts to walk backwards. tashi will be getting impatient by now. wanting to head home to tend to a wounded arts wounds. "keep telling yourself that."

you huff. spin away from him and yank open the back door, ready to storm back inside when his voice rings out one last time behind you.

"your ass looks great, by the way!"

they'd all be jerking off to the thought of it tonight, probably. he knew he would.

[thedancingcostumeyoungadult]

It's all timing - S.R.

Spencer Reid x fem!reader smut, no use of y/n

Spencer's return from a case just so happens to coincide with the part of your cycle that has you feeling a certain type of way, which Spencer is only too happy to help with.

Warnings: fluffy smut, oral (fem! receiving), unprotected piv sex, creampie, a smidge of breeding, d/s a little if you squint

~

It's hard to say that Spencer traveling for work was ever convenient, but every once in a while the timing lines up nicely. Like tonight, he's on his way back from a case and you are, to put it crudely, horny as shit. It's not normal horny, either, this is ovulation horny, the kind that leaves you aching all day, overwhelming your already frayed system.

So when you get the text that he's on his way from the airport, you waste no time stripping naked and arranging yourself in the big armchair that faces the door. And then you wait, the clocks ticking taunting you, each second reminding you of his absence.

Finally, the clinking of keys at the door alerts you to your boyfriend's return, the thought of who only rekindling the low burning in your belly. You swallow as the door swings open, adjusting your position slightly to best present yourself to the entryway.

"Baby! I'm h-" Spencer's voice seems to stick in his throat when he sees you, "-ome." He finishes the word slowly, setting his go bag down and closing the door but never moving his gaze from your form. Even in the shadows you watch his eyes rake down your body slowly.

"Welcome home." Your sultry voice draws his eyes back to yours in an instant, the intense gaze softening with a smile shared between you.

"That is quite a welcome." Crossing the room, he kneels slowly in front of you, one of his big, warm hands sliding up the back of your calf as he leans in to catch your lips with his. It's one of those kisses that melts your core, warming your bones and drawing a happy sigh from your chest.

"What did I do to deserve a welcome like this?" He speaks softly as he pulls away, sitting back on his heels as his other hand smooths up the side of your thigh, his touch firm but reverent. You can't help the smile that rises on your face looking down at your love, those soft eyes of his glowing back at you, messy curls falling in his eyes that you gently sweep away. His eyes flutter when you cup his cheek in your palm.

"Being you, mostly." You run the pad of your thumb across his bottom lip, not missing how his breath hitches. "But impeccable timing helps." His head cocks questioningly at you, a line forming where his brows knit together. "You know how I get this time of month." You finish with a devilish little smirk as he finally understands. An eager grin splits his face, his eyes absolutely lighting up.

"Oh!" His hands move immediately, uncrossing your legs and pushing them apart, his grip now anchored in your soft thighs as he surges forward to kiss you excitedly. His excitement and the slight manhandling only add to the quickly forming puddle between your thighs, causing you to whine into his kiss.

As if he read your mind, Spencer broke away from your lips, kissing and biting his way quickly down your body. Excitement clearly outweighed romance tonight, made even more eveident when Spencer, with neither ceremony or hesitation, dove into your pussy like it was the fountain of youth. He'd always eaten pussy like god, but this is even a step beyond that, you didn't even care what he was doing that much, your hormone-flooded brain only barely able to process the sheer pleasure burning through your veins.

"Oh fuck!" You can't help the words falling from your lips as your hands fly to his hair, gripping desperately in a way that must have hurt as your body arches and writhes under him. His hands, large and strong and so warm, run once again up your thighs, gripping your hips almost hard enough to bruise. You can hear him devouring you, wet, lewd sounds interspersed with low grunts of effort that border on animalistic.

It's all so so good, but you still need more, that burning ache in your belly only satiable by one thing.

"Spencer," you manage, your voice cracking on his name "More, please please I need more." He hears you, taking one last harsh suckle at your clit that makes your whole body shudder at the sting before sitting up, his mouth leaving you with a wet pop.

"More? What more do you need, baby?" You just whine, bucking your hips weakly as you throw your head back. Spencer tsks,

"Come on, sweet girl," he plants a kiss on your swollen clit, making you twitch, "you gotta tell me what you want."

"I want your cock," it's like a damn breaks, and suddenly you're begging, clawing at his shoulders with tears pricking your eyes, "I want your cock please, Spencer, please! I wanna be so full of you and your cum and your babies oh god-" you don't get any further before his lips crash against yours, his hands hauling you out of the chair and into his arms. In a matter of seconds you're on your back on the bed, Spencer's lips still hot and demanding against yours, the taste of yourself heady on his tongue as it slides against yours. He breaks from you for only a second or two, definitely ripping something in his haste to rid himself of his clothes.

There were no words, you didn't need them as he pushed into your waiting warmth, his forehead falling to rest against yours as you take him to the hilt, choking on a gasp as he hits that spot thats just so deep and it hurts just a little but it's too good for you to care.

You've always been able to find a rhythm together, fitting against each other just right as he rocks into you, singing your praises in soft grunts and low moans, drawing you ever closer to the edge, begging you to cum for him in every bite, every loving touch, every breath.

You give in to him as he loses himself, the warm ache of his cum spilling into you taking you that last step over the peak and you tumble down the other side. You come apart in the safety of his arms, crumbling and shaking under him as he answers your cries with soft kisses and words of praise mumbled against sweaty skin.

You're glass in his hands as he turns you gently, rolling into his back and bringing your body to lay on top of his. He hasn't pulled out, his cock twitching slightly at the way you squeeze him, still riding the last few shocks of your orgasm.

Your body feels so heavy, so relaxed as you cuddle into his chest, deliciously full and sleepy.

Before sleep takes you, you manage something that sounds like "I love you."

And in that last hazy moment before you drift off, you hear him say it back.

"I love you."

~taglist~

@nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @f-me-reid @spencer-reid-wonderland @dungeons-are-too-cold

[cuubism]

a silly addendum to physical therapy au

--

"I do love you, but I admit I'm questioning your judgement in this moment," Dream says. "This wasn't what I was hoping for our evening."

Yeah, Hob may be a little bit impulsive when it comes to Dream. But he maintains that decking the guy who groped Dream in a crowded bar was, in fact, thought through. It was considered. Moreover, it was justified.

He kind of wishes it hadn't turned into an all-out brawl, but really that's the other guy's fault for not knowing when to back down. And even sitting gingerly on a bar stool with Dream holding towel-wrapped ice to his cheek, Hob can't bring himself to regret it. Dream might deny it until he dies, but Hob saw the glee that flashed across his face the moment Hob's fist connected with the man's nose.

"Whatever happened to not wanting to be violent in front of me?" Dream adds, raising an eyebrow.

"This is different," Hob says. "He was literally harassing you!"

"Hm." Dream presses the ice more firmly against his cheek. Hob winces. "It was very chivalrous, until you got your head smashed into a table. I believe your jaw may even be broken."

"Fuck," Hob swears, which only makes it hurt worse.

Dream's lips twitch up. "It was very chivalrous," he says. He pets Hob's un-bruised cheek. "I will think on it often when I am taking you to your doctor's appointments to fix it."

"Dream."

Dream kisses him on the side of his lip that's not split and bleeding. It still hurts a little, but Hob thinks it's worth it to mess up his jaw if Dream will tend to him like this and look at Hob like Hob is his hero.

He reconsiders that feeling later, when it turns out his jaw is actually broken, requires surgery, and a lot of rehab after that.

-

several weeks-to-months of jaw surgery recovery later, which we're skipping over as it was undoubtedly just completely shit

-

Hob is over the moon as they walk home from the clinic. There's really nothing like breaking your jaw to make you appreciate the little things. Like being able to open your mouth.

Dream, meanwhile, is trudging along beside him, holding Hob's hand but looking depressed about it.

"I'm the one who finally got wires out of my fucking jaw," Hob says, "why are you sulking about it?"

Dream continues pouting, but doesn't let go of Hob's hand. "They said you would still need to rest your jaw for a month."

"Yeah, so? At least I can eat food again. No offense but any more days of you diligently hand-feeding me broth was going to be the end of me." He pokes at his stomach, where there's substantially less flesh than before. "Besides, look at this."

Dream looks critically at his waistline. "Yes, your weight loss has been alarming to me. But I could not figure out any other ways to add calories to broth."

Hob wrinkles his nose at the reminder of Dream's attempts. "You did try."

"I tried," Dream sighs. "You still aren't allowed to eat normal food, though."

"They gave me back ice cream, I'll take the win."

Speaking of which, they should go get some food now. Hob thinks he might even be able to handle chips if he eats them slowly. Incredible.

"Hey," he adds, as they continue their walk, "at least I can kiss you properly again." He leans over to plant a quick kiss on Dream's lips, getting a smile in return. "And talk your ear off."

"I did miss your voice," Dream says. "And your kisses."

"Why are you sulking, then?"

A hint of embarrassment colors Dream's ears pink. "I had," he starts, sentences broken up, "Things. I was hoping you might be able to do again."

It takes Hob a second to realize what he means and then he doubles over laughing.

"Are you seriously," he wheezes, "are you seriously moping because I can't suck your dick?"

"You are rather good at it," Dream says, going truly red now, and Hob has to actually stop walking because he can't breathe for how hard he's laughing.

"I'm sorry the jaw surgery recovery is so disappointing to you," he says, sucking in air. "For the record I'd rather be blowing you than doing whatever they-- oh God, am I going to have to go to physical therapy now?"

It's a sobering thought. Dream's lips twitch. "Are you opposed to the profession?" he asks.

"I'll bear it for the sake of making you happy again," Hob says solemnly, and Dream plants his face in his palms.

Perhaps to distract from his own embarrassment, perhaps to distract Hob from his impending PT burden, Dream does end up buying Hob chips. As they eat Hob looks through the discharge paperwork he was given.

"They didn't technically say 'no oral sex'," he observes, and Dream nearly chokes on a chip.

"Do they think I'm not getting any?" Hob wonders aloud. "Is that why they didn't put it in? Just took one look at me and said 'yeah don't need to tell that one.' That hurts my feelings."

"No one would look at you and think that," Dream says.

Now Hob's the one who's choking. "Are you telling me I look like a whore?"

Dream appraises him with one eyebrow raised. "No one would look at you," he clarifies, "and think that no one would want to have sex with you."

"That might be your bias," Hob tells him, but takes his hand on the table and squeezes it fondly.

"I suppose I think about it a disproportionate amount," Dream concedes, and Hob laughs. "I think they left it out of the instructions because they assumed that if you were not allowed to even eat carrots, then not deepthroating my cock was implied."

"I'm not biting your cock, though," Hob argues.

"I would hope not."

"Okay, Doctor Dream," Hob gives in, "I'll be a good boy and not give you a blowjob."

Dream gives a long suffering and truly depressed sigh. "I will cope."

Instead, Hob kisses the back of his hand, which brings a smile back to his face. Dream pets his cheek, twists fingers into his hair fondly.

"Let us go home," he says. "I will make you dinner that is not solely composed of chips."

"Not soup," Hob begs.

"Not soup," Dream agrees, eyes sparkling.

--

Dream's not entirely wrong that sex was a little weird while Hob couldn't even open his mouth. Not that that stopped them from doing other things. He is looking forward to being able to properly kiss Dream again (and other things), though he's not as disappointed as Dream is about having 'rest his jaw' for a while longer. He's too busy being happy about being able to eat with a fork again instead of a straw.

It is fun to tease Dream about it, though. Really, Hob's the one who broke his jaw, and Dream thinks he's suffering?

"You are making fun of me," Dream says as Hob lies between his legs, cheek resting on the jut of his hipbone.

Hob kisses low on his belly. "Maybe."

"Hob."

"It's cute when you're horny." It had taken ages to get Dream comfortable enough to even voice his desires and Hob still feels his heart soar when he does now. Even if he can't fulfill them at the moment.

"Horny," Dream says, offended by the word choice.

"Admit it or do ten sets of physical therapy hand exercises."

"I can think of better things to do with my hands," Dream says, and Hob laughs.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Dream pets his cheek, runs his thumb over Hob's lower lip, dipping in to touch his tongue. "I am dearly sorry you injured yourself in my defense," he says.

"Would do it again," Hob says. "You didn't see your smile."

Dream smiles again now, charmed. "Perhaps you'd like a reward."

"Oh, I get a reward now? Instead of just flack for--"

Dream pushes him up and draws him close, kissing him fiercely. His fingers dig into Hob's hair, his tongue sweeps into Hob's mouth, he nips at Hob's bottom lip as he pulls away. God, Hob's missed kissing him like that.

"Next time I'll smash the other guy's head into a table first so he can't break my jaw," he promises. "Then I won't have to stop kissing you. Or other things."

"You learned nothing," Dream complains. But he's smiling, eyes sparkling.

"Maybe you'll have to teach me something new, then?"

Dream leans in to kiss him again. "Maybe I will."

[sumeruin]

bad idea, right?

♫♪: pairing: toxic ex! scara x afab! reader (modern but still in universe au)

♫♪: warnings: written by a minor, kind of dubcon but reader is very obviously into it, slapping, spitting, bondage, degradation, slight humiliation, toxic relationships, pet names, fingering, female anatomy but no pronouns or gendered terms used, i think that’s it but if i missed any please let me know!!

♫♪: a/n: originally meant to post this like. weeks ago lmao sorry <3

♫♪: minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!

fuck. you don’t know why you keep doing this, if you’re being completely honest. he’s bad for you. so, horribly, unbelievably bad for you. and yet, as he sits on your couch, leaning back and propping his feet up on your coffee table like he owns the place, you don’t want to kick him out. all you wanna do is slap that stupid smirk off his face and let him fuck every single thought out of your mind.

his voice breaks you from your thoughts. “are you planning on saying anything, or am i supposed to just stare at you?” his eyes linger on your waist, following the curves of your body and leaving you feeling much too exposed for your liking.

you cross your arms over your chest defenseivly, returning his smug stare with a glare of your own. “why are you here? i thought i made it clear last time that i never wanted to see your face again.” unless it’s in between my legs, your brain adds silently, and you desperately try to shoo those thoughts away. if you start thinking about how good he is in bed, you’ll never be able to make him leave.

he clearly notices your internal struggle, raising an eyebrow and letting out a laugh that’s only slightly mocking. his condescending gaze makes your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. how does he always manage to make you feel humiliated when he’s the one who keeps crawling back? “you did, but we both know that’s not true. i bet if i looked between your legs right now you’re wet just from looking at me. you always were into the weirdest things. you found another guy willing to slap you around yet?”

your face burns at the reminder of the things you’ve asked him to do, all of them depraved and perverted in nature. from the times you’ve begged him to spit on you, to the times you’ve placed his hand on your throat and silently urged him to apply pressure while he was fucking you. it’s clear he enjoys your humiliation, a fact that only makes you more humiliated and only sends yet another pang of heat in between your legs.

“th-that’s none of your business, *scaramouche*. just- what do you want?” he flinches ever so slightly at the venomous way you say his name, and that fact that you’re calling him that at all. you never call him that, it’s always “kuni” or “scara” or some random pet name. never “scaramouche”.

after a few painfully long moments of contemplative silence, he slowly stands up and walks towards you, and you can’t help the way you reflexively lean into his touch when he grabs your chin. he chooses not to answer your question, simply tilting your head to face his as he speaks, tapping your cheek with two of his fingers. “open.”

despite your best judgment, you obey, silently opening your mouth and gazing up at him in confusion.

he simply admires the sight for a moment, then, without any kind of warning, he spits directly into your open mouth. his grip tightens on your cheeks so you can’t close your lips, and he smirks to himself as you grimace at the feeling. “you done being a bitch yet? or am i going to have to fuck it out of you?”

you glare, though he only laughs in your face at your attempt at intimidation. “you look pathetic, trying to intimidate me while my spit is sitting on your tongue and your drooling all over me like a dog. is that what you are? my pathetic, stupid little mutt? maybe i should put a leash on you. then you wouldn’t think you could leave me.”

he lets go of your cheeks, though he gives you a threatening look that promises consequences if you try to do anything other than swallow. you do, sending him another barely threatening glare as your voice comes out. “fuck off. ‘m not yours anymore.”

scara only gives you a mocking smile at your words, gripping your wrist and dragging you over to the couch before practically throwing you on the cushions. you’re suddenly thankful for that throw pillow phase you went through a few years ago. maybe celestia did have a plan besides making you waste your money.

he hovers over you, his eyes furious and his mocking smile gone, seemingly having decided to drop the faux nice facade and embrace the dominance he holds over you. his hand curls around your neck, not tight enough to choke you yet, just enough to cut off a little bit of oxygen and fill your brain with that fuzzy, soft haze. “fine. you wanna be like that, huh? i can deal with a brat.”

he yanks your pajama shorts and underwear down your legs, carelessly tossing them to a random corner of the living room before working on your shirt. he doesn’t even bother trying to take that off the right way, he simply rips the fabric down the middle and exposes your perfect tits, which he then decides to start massaging with his left hand. with his right, he takes his belt off and restrains your hands behind your back. you can’t control the moan that falls from your lips as your back arches into his touch, and you’re only a little ashamed of how desperately needy your voice sounds. “fuck, scara-!”

he grins in response, his eyes trailing from your exposed cunt to your eyes as he responds, his free hand trailing down to rub little circles against your clit. “yeah? i’m right here, doll. not going anywhere.”

scara relishes the way you jolt under his touch, body shaking as whines and mewls fall from your lips. fuck, it’s been so long. you hadn’t realized how deprived you’d been until someone was finally playing with your pussy. no one’s ever as good as scara, not since you slept with him the first time. he knows very well how much he’s ruined any other guy for you, how he’s the only one who can make you cum this hard. and he loves it.

he deems you wet enough after a few more moments of him rubbing your clit, and then he slides two of his fingers in your twitching cunt, not even bothering to take off his rings beforehand. not that you’re complaining, you both know how much you love the feeling of the metal rubbing against your insides. he notices the way you start to drift away, and lands a heavy slap to your cheek, snapping you out of the pleasure induced trace he put you in with a predatory grin. “are you trying to hide from me? you should know better.”

you can only whine in response, trying to blabber out a coherent response while on the verge of cumming your brains out all over your ex boyfriend’s fingers is much harder than it looks. all you manage is another little mewl, gazing up at him with teary eyes as you whine out the words. “not- not tryin’ to hide, kuni… p-please, need more- need- need to cum, please let me cum!”

scara only gives you another grin, clearly pleased with your performance, and he slips another finger inside you, scissoring them and making you cry out as your back arches and your legs twitch from where they’re resting on either side of his body. your moans get less coherent, but he doesn’t seem to mind. he just pulls his fingers out of your pussy and holds eye contact while licking them clean, then pulls his pants down just far enough to take his cock out. he slaps it against your clit a few times, and pats your, quickly reddening, cheek condescendingly as he speaks. “i don’t think you’ve done anything to deserve getting fucked.”

his soft pats switch to a harsh grip on your chin abruptly, and he forces your face to make eye contact with him while he continues. “why don’t you convince me, hm? tell me how sorry you are for pretending you wanted to leave me, how much you missed me. then i’ll consider it.”

scara’s grin is wicked now, staring deeply into your fucked out eyes as your face scrunches up and you start to sniffle at his denials. he’s the one who started this, why is he making you seem like the desperate one? you wouldn’t be this desperate if he had just kept his stupid hands to himself. still, though, your cunt aches from the overwhelming emptiness, little drops of slick drooling out and making a mess of your favorite blanket.

so, you obey like always, the words flowing from your lips with an ease that makes it seem like something you’ve always known, a deep rooted fact that you can’t possibly deny as you stare up at him through thick lashes with glossy eyes. “p-please, kuni, need you so bad, it hurts! i- i was wrong, wasn’t- wasn’t thinking… missed you so much, please!”

scara smiles, baring his teeth in a way that you distantly know should terrify you, but as he thrusts deeply inside you, filling you up so well with one deep stroke, you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore.

you aren’t sure you ever did.

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝑅𝐸𝒢𝒰𝐿𝒜𝑅 𝐸𝒩𝒞𝒪𝒰𝒩𝒯𝐸𝑅𝒮

info ⭑ bakugo katsuki x reader ﾉ 1.6k wc ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff 

the first time bakugo sees you, his new neighbor, is from his balcony. the squeak that accompanies your door sliding open catches his attention and your distant voice holds it. you’re on the phone, too preoccupied with your conversation to notice him sitting a few feet away. he watches you from afar, takes note of how you playfully roll your eyes and the way you throw your hand out in disbelief. you’re animated and energized, a shining light against the dark canvas that is the night sky.

bakugo isn’t sure how much time passes before he decides to head back inside. he comes to the realization that it’s strange to watch someone you haven’t even met so intently. so, he stands and picks up his plate of half-eaten noodles, readying to call it a night. whether it’s the scrape of his chair or the feel of his eyes on you, bakugo isn’t sure, but something makes you turn to face his direction. instead of the scowl or scoff he expects of someone who has just found out they were being stared at, you smile at him. you even wave, too.

his lips part in surprise at your kindness, your warmth. bakugo can’t say he knows or has encountered many people who offer a smile while they’re taking a call. deku maybe, but that’s beside the point. before he forgets and makes an ass of himself, he slowly raises his arm, two fingers sticking out to return your wave.

you smile wider.

the image sticks to his eyelids as he lays in bed and waits for sleep to overtake him.

the next time he sees you, it’s on the balcony again. this time you’re able to introduce yourself.

“sorry,” you apologize after giving him your name. you’re sitting in a chair you dragged out from your unit. the singular piece of furniture looks out of place outside. katsuki figures you haven’t had the time to decorate the space appropriately. “i would have done this that first night but my mom was talking my ear off. moving and all.”

bakugo distinctly recalls what it was like when he moved into his first apartment; nothing he did went unchecked by mitsuki. she was practically breathing down his neck throughout the entire process. if he wasn’t grateful for the help, the memories would have sent an unpleasant chill down his spine.

“i get it,” he nods.

talking to you is different than looking from afar, the blonde thinks. even though the two of you have never spoken before this moment, you regard him so casually—like he’s a friend you’ve known for years. it’s refreshing yet strange, being seen as a neighbor before a hero, though he doesn’t mind the change of scenery.

the rest of your conversation borders on mundane—you ask when bakugo moved into the building, about his hobbies, and if he has any coffee shop recommendations near the neighborhood. they’re questions he usually wouldn’t bother answering but something about you compels him to reply. maybe it’s the way it looks like you’re hanging on his every word. or maybe it’s because, despite the fact that you’re the one asking the questions, you’re still a present part of the conversation. it doesn’t feel as though it’s one-sided, like an interview he gets nothing out of. your giggles at his muttered sarcasm and the comments you add—little details about how your apartment is coming together and what you usually order from the café—draws bakugo into your bubble and keeps him there.

talking to you isn’t a chore, in fact, katsuki actually enjoys it. the sound of your voice isn’t irritating like nails against a chalkboard—it’s pleasant, addicting, like the gentle hum of his favorite song. your stare doesn’t bother him because, for some reason unbeknownst to him, it feels like you see past his outer shell, past the image the world has created for him.

you don’t know him now, but bakugo doesn’t mind it being a possibility. a little part of him longs for it.

that longing for a connection isn’t far out of reach. your balconies have become an assembly area of sorts. given his line of work, katsuki can only spend evenings and seldom weekends out under the moon or sun, but you seem to have caught on to the loose pattern that is his schedule. whenever he’s there, so are you.

sometimes you’re working on your laptop, fingers furiously tapping away at the keyboard until you hear the slightly squeaky gliding of bakugo’s door. the contents of your screen are easily forgotten in favor of focusing on your blonde neighbor instead. talking to him means you’ll lose sleep over finishing your report later than intended, but bakugo is much more interesting than the spreadsheet of numbers you’ve been staring at for the past hour.

other times, you’re taking down laundry you hung on the line earlier when the same noise catches your attention. you can’t help but stop what you’re doing and inquire about his day—the good, the bad, the boring, the exciting. (an odd habit arises from it; you ask him to rate his day on a scale of one to ten whenever he joins you outside.) by the time you remember what you were doing before katsuki’s arrival, the sheets you had set out to dry are wrinkled and creased in your arms.

every moment, no matter how short and seemingly insignificant, floods bakugo in a sea of inexplicable joy.

today is no different.

like every night, bakugo kicks off his boots before entering his apartment. after a quick shower and a change of clothes, his feet instinctively carry him to the living room where the door leading to his balcony, leading to you, is. a cool breeze pushes into the unit as he drags the sliding door open and steps out. goosebumps raise on his arms—not because of the evening air, but because he hasn’t even sat down yet and your eyes are already on him.

“hey there, superhero,” you greet him, and he can hear the smile in your voice. there’s a click as the door closes and a grunt as katsuki tosses himself into the lone chair on his balcony. yours has two now, situated on either side of a small table. you’re sitting in the one facing him, a cup of instant noodles cradled in your hands.

“hey.” he returns your hello. it’s audibly less enthusiastic, but he’s glad to see you—even if that sight is you manipulating a pair of chopsticks to best fit the bunch of noodles hanging from them in your mouth.

your wrist stops rotating once you’ve found the prefect positioning. before you take the bite, you ask bakugo, “rate the day?”

all things considered, bakugo had a favorable day. nothing had gone wrong, everyone at the agency was on top of their game, he even had a notable villain takedown. despite it all, the day lacked a sense of excitement. nothing got his blood pumping like has had hoped it would. but now that he’s here in your presence, everything feels right. “…eight.”

“wow!” you cover your mouth upon realizing that you still have food in it. you sheepishly swallow the mouthful before clearing your throat. bakugo’s chin rests in his palm as he grins at your outburst. it’s infectious, causes the corners of your lips to curl into a small smile. “that’s a jump from the rest of the week.”

it is. the days before this one had been mediocre at best. but nights spent with you always give his days an extra point on the rating scale. that, bakugo thinks, isn’t something you need to know. not now, at least.

his eyes fall down to the styrofoam cup in your hands. every time he’s met with you for the past week, the same budget-friendly meal has appeared. “that all you eat?” he questions.

you snort at his observation. he’s got a good eye, you’ve come to learn, remembers details about you that even you find yourself forgetting. you set the cheap dish down on your table and smile. “other than knowing how to operate a rice cooker, i’m even worse than a novice in the kitchen.”

you’re a strange one, smiling while admitting a weakness, the blonde thinks. “you seem oddly happy about that.”

“eh,” you shrug, “it kind of sucks burning everything i touch. but, i happen to know someone who’s planning on helping me fix that.”

you’re still smiling, but this one is different than the others katsuki has had the pleasure of seeing. it isn’t like those delighted ones you wear when you recount the best parts of your day or the admirable ones you sport when you listen to his. there’s something hidden behind this one that he can’t quite put his finger on. knowingness? flirtation?

if the latter was the case, bakugo would have a problem—one he isn’t entitled to, but, nevertheless, a problem. he may not be entitled to it, but the green-eyed monster isn’t something he can so easily conceal, even if he has no business feeling jealous. he crosses his arms at the thought of someone else holding your interest. “and who is that?”

“oh, come on genius.” your heart thumps against your ribcage, hard and heavy. it’s been a few weeks since you moved in to the apartment beside bakugo’s but your first, hushed interaction has stuck with you. the seedling of attraction in your chest when you first met his eye has long since bloomed into an embarrassingly large, vibrant flower. “you think i forgot about that yakisoba you were eating that first night out here? i’m talking about you.”

there’s a fluttering in katsuki’s chest, like his heart started floating while simultaneously skipping a beat. he discreetly pats his sternum to calm the frantic organ sheltered behind it but the action is useless when you’re staring at him so intently, a hypnotizing glint of hope sparkling in your eyes.

“so, superhero, teach me how to cook?"

hihi~ sua here :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[whatdoidosatoru]

pain&affection

Megumi Fushiguro X Reader flufffffffrhehwhsywuh

in which reader gets their period and megumi comforts them and tries to help with the pain

cw: swearing, periods, pain, painkillers

wc: 1952

“I know you took my hoodie, why are you always taking my stuff?!”

Megumi’s voice came from the hallway, spilling into my bedroom through the door that was now almost thrown open. I should've known this would happen, mainly because I did actually do what I was being accused of.

My roommate was completely in the right to look to me for his ‘lost’ stuff because I was the one who did the laundry for both of us and sometimes … it just happens. He's insanely gorgeous and smells heavenly so sometimes I just…swipe one of his hoodies off the pile and stash it under my pillow.

If sniffing my crush’s clothes is a crime then send me away, I guess.

But this time I didn't expect him to be so…angry because of it. I was currently in a foetus position, trying to make the period pain go away - but to no avail - and tears were already streaming down my face.

The last thing I needed to add to the pile was being yelled at.

As soon as he walked into my room, all menacing with his dark scowl, he noticed the state I was in and his attitude changed.

“What happened?” His voice suddenly soft, with a twinge of sadness.

I couldn't trust my voice so I just pointed towards my stomach. His eyes followed where I was pointing and, when it clicked, his mouth formed a little surprised o. He shuffled his weight awkwardly.

“Well, did you take my hoodie?” The accusation now sat in the air a little bit softer than before.

I slowly reached under my pillow and grabbed the cursed hoodie and handed it to him.

“The smell of it calmed me down.” I squeezed it out through my teeth, voice broken from straining out my silent sobs for an hour.

He carefully approached the bed and took it from my hand, suddenly not seeming very keen on taking it back from me.

"Why?” He was never a man of rambling. Most of our conversations were to the point, no additional information on his side.

I simply shrugged, not in the mood to start explaining myself. His gaze landed on the bottle of water and an empty pack of painkillers next to the bed and worry clouded his eyes.

He sat on the edge of the bed, like he didn't know what to do next. Some part of him seemed to want to help me, but didn't know how.

“What's wrong? Can you speak?”

I swallowed hard and through another sob explained, “Got my period today.”

He nodded, realising he could not help me in this predicament, but still wanting to try.

“Anything I can do?”

I shrugged again, not wanting to inconvenience him by asking him to punch my uterus out of my body or to joke about getting me pregnant so I can be at peace for a little while. In a small voice I braved myself to ask for one favour.

“Could you maybe rub my back a little?”

That seemed to not surprise him much, and he leaned over across me to place his warm hand on my lower back and slowly rub in circles.

“Is this okay?”

His voice was soft and soothing now. Like he lowered it to not upset me. I nodded to answer his question so he continued what he was doing. My sobs were getting fewer and far between so he figured whatever he was doing was helping at least a little bit.

“Is it okay with you if I lie down next to you to do this?”

In normal circumstances, his asking me to lie down with me would've sent me into a frenzy. I would've screamed from the top of my lungs and danced in the rain at the proposal. But now I was barely able to squeeze out a pathetic little ‘yes’ and watch him slowly move me closer to the wall so he could lie down in front of me.

My face was an inch away from his chest and his arm was practically hugging me to reach my back. Yes, I was definitely counting that.

He wasn't a man that showed affection often, so this act of kindness took me by surprise, but I'd be damned if I showed it. Nothing could get in between me and this moment of closeness with him.

“Is this okay?” Hearing his voice so close felt almost illegal. He was speaking into the top of my head and I'd stopped sobbing a while ago.

I felt brave enough to shimmy a little closer to him so our legs were fully touching and he didn't pull away, that was a win.

Our faces were uncommonly close, his lips in line with my forehead. I could feel his breath on my nose and cheeks. He smelled of our fabric softener with a dash of his cologne, all mixed with his natural body scent and it felt so intoxicating I couldn't move, think, or speak.

Realising I didn't answer, I quickly cleared my throat and managed a weak ‘yeah’. Megumi didn't seem eager to leave. He let the silence take over as my thoughts were racing, none of them loud enough for me to register it, just a constant buzzing in my ears.

“I'm assuming you already took painkillers, right?”

His voice was low, but authoritative. I mean, of course I took painkillers, but If I hadn't, I would've done just that specifically because he asked.

I nodded and tried to explain, “Yes, they don't always work, though.”

He hummed at my answer.

“Did you want me to get you a hot water bottle?”

I was surprised at the amount of care he showed me, at best I expected a pat on the back and a disinterested ‘there there’.

I swallowed hard.

“Please just … stay here for a bit. Didn't have the time to get one, I nearly fainted in the shower so I hurried to bed.”

He nodded, “I see.”

There was worry in his voice. Along with his calm demeanour, it was more comforting than a warm blanket and a cup of hot tea.

I wasn't sure if I was delirious with the stabbing pain that made me want to rip out my uterus and beat it to death, but it felt as though Megumi rested his lips on my forehead. When the feeling lingered, I realised his lips hadn't moved - he was definitely kind of kissing my forehead. What?

My heart started pumping faster. The buzzing in my ears cleared up a little and I could hear him take a deep breath and exhale into my hairline.

“I'm really sorry you feel like this.” His sentiment caught me off guard.

“I'm mostly used to it.” I regained the use of my voice a bit more already.

“That's even worse, I should've at least got you some chocolate.” He sounded upset with himself.

“Not being funny, Fushiguro, it's not like I'm advertising the fact that my uterus is tearing itself apart from the inside.”

“I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier.”

I scoffed quietly, I didn't want him to apologise just because I was in pain and most likely dying.

“I'm serious. It's just been a long day and … I don't mind you actually taking my hoodies, I just wanted to know it wasn't lost or something.”

Okay then, that was different…

He was softening up.

“I'm sorry for taking it and not telling you.”

“It's fine, don't worry about it.”

What??

I kept quiet because, at this point, I didn't quite understand what was going on. There was a non-zero chance that this wasn't ‘my’ Megumi, but a shape shifter or some kind of a doppelganger.

“Thank you for staying here with me.”

He tried to cover up a soft chuckle.

“I don't mind.”

Megumi let out a long sigh and continued, “I do actually care about you, you know? I'll stay with you throughout the night if you'd like.”

I let out a surprised giggle.

“Careful, Fushiguro. Those are the kinds of words that make girls fall in love with you.”

I couldn't believe I just said that. I should NOT have said that oh no.

That was a risky sentence and I might have revealed my true feelings to the man that would never bother with me and I had to continue living with him.

Fortunately, he chuckled at the words.

“Are you speaking from experience?” He asked jokingly.

I decided to keep quiet at that. Maybe he'd drop it.

Unfortunately for me, he persisted.

“Well?”

Fuck.

“What?” I resorted to playing dumb.

“Are you trying to play dumb?”

What the fuck? How was he this observant now, when before, I tried to start something by walking around in nothing but oversized T-shirts and underwear…Now he decided to pay attention to me.

“Uh, I didn’t catch the question, sorry.”

A sigh from his end.

“Yes, you did.”

Alright then, Mr. Attitude.

“That’s not my name.”

It took me longer than I care to admit to realise I said that last bit out loud. I started giggling, unfortunately, every movement caused another jab of pain in my abdomen so I groaned out and pressed on it tighter.

Megumi looked down at me, sighed, and pressed me closer to his chest.

“Fushiguro?” I decided in my delirious state that this was the right time to try saying shit I will probably regret tomorrow.

He hummed in response, vibrations from his chest resonating through my head.

“I think I’m dying. If you’re in love with me, better come clean now, or else you’ll regret it when I’m gone.”

I swear I could hear him chuckle, I didn’t make it up.

“You’re not dying, but I do have to admit, I do like you.”

“You whAT?” I almost suffocated myself in his embrace.

He snickered at my reaction.

“You're going to make me say it again, won't you?”

“It concerns me, doesn't it?” I don't know how I found the strength to be sassy at this point. His chest was rising and falling a bit faster now.

“I don't know how you didn't get it before, but I like you.”

“I'm sorry, how was I supposed to get that?”

He sighed, “Well I stayed in the living room to chat with you after you came back from work recently, then I made coffee and left it on the counter for you in the morning, and I got your winter coat out of the back wardrobe… I was sure you noticed and didn't say anything because you didn't like me back.”

He fucking what?

“I…that was you making me coffee? I thought I just left it and forgot about it, I'm sorry.”

I'd been dumping them into the sink. Oh god.

He chuckled, not seeming annoyed at that.

“That’s okay, I had a feeling you might not realise it was me who did that. I didn't really know how to approach you with this…issue.”

Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck?

In hindsight, it might have been the mass amounts of painkillers that made me so calm about this situation. At least outwardly.

“Hey Megumi? Can we talk about this tomorrow?” I felt myself dropping off to sleep. Finally.

“We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.”

For fuck’s sake, my guy.

“No, I…I like you too, obviously.”

His breath hitched.

“I just want to be fully awake for this, and I'm about to fall asleep.” I was beginning to slur my words already.

He kissed the top of my head and took a deep breath.

“I'll stay here with you while you sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

[itsthestutterforme]

Should We Try Again? 1/2 (toxic!Rafe Cameron x toxic!reader)

Summary: Rafe tries to accuse you of cheating, and you did some snooping of your own. And when Rafe found out you went through his phone, you were in for it.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, Topper is a really good friend in this fic, reader is black, dark themes (choking, threats, arguing, name calling, overall just toxic behavior)

If any of these making you uncomfortable, pls don’t read. Take care of yourselves.

**

You and Rafe had one of your fights again. The yelling match, screaming in each other’s face kind of fight.

The kind of fight where the police gets called because someone heard glass breaking and shouting.

This particular time, he logged into your Instagram and founded close to 50 DMs from guys commenting on your stories where you posted your OOTDs.

You never opened any of the DMs but there were too many to go unnoticed.

“Do you get off on having other guys want you or something? Huh?” He starts as he abruptly forces his way into the bathroom where you were showering.

“What are you talking about, Rafe?” You snark, ringing out the water from your hair.

“What the hell is this?” He rips the shower curtain open.

“Rafe!” You scold, shutting off the water so none leaks onto the floor. He shoves his phone in your face and repeats, “What the hell is this?”

“They’re DMs, Rafe. Why are you talking to me like I did something wrong?”

“Because you did do something wrong by not blocking these sons of bitches. You like the attention, don’t you? You fucking slut.”

“Don’t you dare call me a slut, asshole. It’s DMs. They don’t mean shit!”

You close the shower curtain so you can resume your shower when he ripped it open again.

“Oh it means something when they’re sending dick pics, Y/N! They want to fuck you!”

“It doesn’t matter if they want me because I’m with you, Rafe. Not them.” You tried to reason.

You were already exhausted from work and you really didn’t need this right now.

“You’ve been sending them nudes, haven’t you?” “Are you fucking serious, Rafe?” “Do I look like I’m joking right now?” He says flatly, his nose flaring angrily.

“No, I haven’t sent anybody nudes. I didn’t even know they sent me dick pics because I don’t open them, Rafe.” He gives you a pointed look and you crossed your arms as a challenge.

It was clear you weren’t going to shower in peace so why not add some fuel to this fire.

“You’re such a hypocrite, you know that? Shame on me for having fifty unopened DMs but everything is okay when you have hundreds of opened DMs?” You antagonize, slowly stepping out of the shower with suds still on your body.

You watch as his face fell for a few seconds before it hardens once again.

“You’ve been going through my phone?” He asks. “Of course I have! Because I know you’ve been in my phone, desperate to find secrets to use against me. So I figure why not dig up some secrets of my own.”

“Y/N,” he warns lowly, taking a step towards you.

“What did you find?” He wrote down a few things about the cross.

Like where he’s already looked and potential places where it might be. But he hid those notes behind a passcode in his journal.

There were also a few texts of Ward asking ‘if it was taken care of’. Garret’s body.

There was no way you could figure out the passcode, right?

“What are you so scared I would find?” You questioned, purposely being vague. There was no point in being specific, if he was going to connect the dots for you.

His anxiety got the best of him and he wraps a hand around your throat, giving it a warning squeeze.

“Stop being cute and tell me what you saw.” He orders.

There wasn’t a constant pressure so you were able to breathe fairly normal. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t change his mind.

“I only went through your social media and some of your messages. Nothing else.” His hand twitched around your throat when you mentioned messages.

“I just wanted to see if you were texting others girls.” You added, wrapping your hands around his wrist.

“What else?” “Nothing else, I swear.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Y/N.” “I’m not lying to you.” He pulls away from your throat and you instinctively touched your collar bone.

His gaze softens when you stepped away from him. He itched to get close to you and apologize for over reacting, but he still wasn’t sure that you didn’t know about the gold and the bodies.

So his hands remained by his sides, tightening every so often.

“What are you protecting?” You asked cautiously. “Don’t pull that shit again.” He states before storming out of the bathroom and slamming the front door of your house.

That was a few days ago, and you haven’t spoke to each other since. The most interaction you’ve had was him viewing your story. That’s it.

You’ve been going straight home after work, not wanting to interact with anyone unless you had to.

But a small part of you wished you’d come home to Rafe waiting for you on your door step or him come to see you during your break.

But he never did. That was enough for you to come to the conclusion that he stopped caring about you.

He was so worried about protecting something or someone that was willing to choke you out to protect it.

You’ve seen him anxious about a few things but nothing set him off like you did that night.

You were watching one of your comfort movies with your fleece blanket wrapped around you, eating some stir fry you ordered on UberEats when your phone chimed.

Topper: hey you doing okay?

Tossing the phone back on the bed, you used the chopsticks to dip a piece of beef into the speciality sauce before eating it.

Your phone chimed again.

Topper: We were friends before you started dating Rafe, remember? I care about you too.

You: I assume Rafe told you everything?

Topper: Just that you had an argument and you’re on a break

You: Well that’s an oversimplification.

Topper: I’m throwing a party tonight. You should come.

You: I’m not exactly in the mood to get hit on by a bunch of drunk dudes.

Topper: Stick by me and you won’t have that problem.

You: You’re right. Instead, you would have a Rafe sized problem.

Topper: I’m not scared of Rafe.

Topper: Just come by for a few. It makes me feel uneasy that you’re by yourself at home all this time.

Topper: Please.

You: Fine, Topper.

Topper: Great! I’m on my way.

**

You hated yourself for how quick your eyes locked in on Rafe as soon as he walked into the party wearing a navy blue shirt and a white hat that matched his white cargo shorts.

He dapped up a few guys that greeted him by the front door and looked straight up to where you were sitting next to Topper.

He found you almost immediately with an expressionless face.

Your heart skipped a beat that he looked for you but that feeling of elation left you as quickly as it came.

He didn’t reach out to you for three days. No call. No text. No apology. He was done and now it was your turn to feel the same.

“You two are like magnets,” Topper says from behind you. “Toxic ones,” he eventually adds with a chuckle.

“I knew you were going to say that,” you teased, playfully hitting his shoulder.

Sadness kicked your gut when two girls approached Rafe, one of them ran her hands over his chest as she went to whisper something in his ear.

“I’m going to grab another drink.” You said when you notice Rafe coming up the stairs with the girls.

“I’ll come with you,” you gave him a look. “What? I meant it when I said stick by me. Let’s go.”

He lets you lead the way and you go down the second set of stairs but you stopped abruptly, peering down at your jewelry.

Everything you were wearing was gifted to you by Rafe, even down to the earrings. You still wore the R golden plate necklace and matching anklet. You had his signet ring on your thumb because that was the only finger it could fit.

“Everything okay, Y/N?” Topper questions. Rafe was watching the entire interaction from the loveseat you and Topper were just sitting on.

You bent down to take off your anklet and moved to take off your earrings next.

“Can you help me take off the necklace?” You asked, pulling off the ring and placing it with the other jewelry.

“Sure,” he agrees, pushing your passion twists out of the way.

You felt his warm hand brushing against the back of your neck when he unclasped the necklace.

He put the necklace in your outstretched hand. You walked back up the few stairs you crossed and approached Rafe whose eyes were still trained on you.

You let out a shaky breath before taking his warm hand into your own and giving him the jewelry. You were beginning to miss his touch.

Guilt flashed across his face, looking down at his hand. You avoided his gaze and left him without another word, rushing down the stairs and Topper followed after you.

“Well that was dramatic,” one of the girls says, rolling her eyes while her friend eyes the gold carat in Rafe’s hand that easily amounted to 75k.

“Can I have the earrings?” She asked and before Rafe could respond, she reached for them anyway.

Rafe caught her hand in a tight grip and she whimpers at the pressure.

“You’re hurting me,” she groans.

“No one told you to touch what’s hers,” he shoves her to the ground. “Hey! You asshole!” Her friend snaps, standing from the couch and helps her friend to her feet.

He doesn’t spare them another glance as he digs in his pocket for a baggie to do a few lines.

“Y/N,” Topper calls, finally catching up with you in the kitchen. “Are you okay?” He asks you, examining your face for anything he could read.

“You should check on him,” you poured yourself a shot in a small solo cup and knocked it back, barely making a face.

“I’m checking up on you,” “It needed to be done, okay. All of it were just reminders of what I don’t have anymore.” You explain, pouring yourself another shot.

“That was very brave for you to do.” “Then why do I feel like shit?” You huffed after taking another shot and he stops you from pouring another one.

“Because the break up is still fresh, Y/N.” He looks at you like you’re going to fall apart before his very eyes.

His soft eyes examines your face for any micro expression that could give away what you’re thinking.

“Look, Top. I know you’re trying to help and all but if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to cry.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“I want to enjoy your party. Your birthday is tomorrow. You shouldn’t be spending it watching me cry.”

“That’s not happening. I’m not leaving you.” He shakes his head and you took his hands into yours, much like you did with Rafe.

But Rafe’s hand were warmer.

“It doesn’t make you a bad friend. I’ll find Sarah.” He studied your face once again and you gave him a soft smile.

“Go,” “Alright,” he says, not bothering to hide his disappointment. “I’ll come find you in like ten minutes.”

“Take your time,” he leaves the kitchen and you let out a deep sigh. You shouldn’t be here.

But you didn’t have the heart to ditch Topper on his birthday rager.

You pressed your palms into the cool, granite countertop and bowed your head to release the tension in your neck.

You hadn’t realize someone was in the kitchen with you until you heard footsteps and someone’s low voice. To your surprise, it was Pope standing on the other side of the counter.

“Sorry, were you saying something?” You asked softly, the shot were slowly starting to get to you.

“I said you are too pretty and insanely smart to be treated like an option.”

That was the nicest thing anyone said to you. You haven’t felt valued in a long time.

“Thanks, Pope. That really means a lot.”

His mouth fell open at your words. “You know who I am?”

“Yes I know who you are. Your family makes the best seafood boils in town.” You explained with a chuckle.

“She knows my name,” he said to himself, which he quickly realized you can hear.

“I should haven’t said that out loud,” he admits and you let out a laugh.

“You’re cute,” he scratches the back of his neck to hide how flustered he way. “Um, are you hiding from Rafe in here?”

“Yes, I am.” You admitted, crossing your arms. “Well if you want some company, my friends are by the bonfire outside. If you want to join. O-only if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything or-“

You interrupted his rant to say, “Sure. I’ll go with you.” You took a solo cup and swung by the keg on the way out, offering some to Pope.

“By the way, what makes you think I’m insanely smart?” “I’m a TA for Mr. Patterson. He still uses your test as a grading key.” He explains after taking a swig of your beer.

“Of course he does. I loved his class.” You admitted with a chuckle. “What is this?”

JJ stands from the chair and motions between you and Pope with his ringed pinky.

“I told her she can hang out with us.” “Hey, JJ.” You greet with a small wave.

“‘Sup, sweetheart. Want a hit?” He offered a blunt to you and you graciously accepted.

He had a grin on his face as he watched you take a hit. He expected you to cough or at least have your eyes water from the potency but much to his surprise, you exhaled the puff of smoke slowly without a fuss.

The mix of the weed and the tequila was throwing your head in a spin. “Never pegged you to be a pothead,” “I’m full of surprises, Maybank.”

A drunk Rafe stumbles outside in search for you when he finds you laughing with Pope and JJ.

JJ noticed your shivering whenever there was a breeze and peeled off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

Rafe wasn’t even aware what was happening until his vision started to blur.

He was crying.

[reverieblondie]

HI!! baldurs gate ladies anon

was just looking at the other tiefling (purring and tail stuff) x guys ask and wondering if you could do it for karlach and shadowheart?

catlike tieflings give me life lololol

Hey Anon!! Thank you for the ask! I never Write for the ladies but this was really fun! I hope you enjoy! As always the last bullet point is 18+ NSFW!

BG3 Boys with teifling s/o

Karlach

You Should feel humiliated right now, but that feeling is being subsidized by your udder glee at this moment. You had taken a particularly nasty fall, ending up with you having a twisted ankle. Usually, a little inquiry like this could be healed quickly by Shadowheart or Halsin, but they are back at camp, leaving you to be with Astarion, Lae'zel, and Karlach. Karlach, of course, was the first to volunteer to carry you back, and with your heat resistances, how could you refuse. Thus, you get to be held in Karlach's strong arms! It would be foolish to decline. Karlach carries you effortlessly and is nothing but smiles as she carries you back. She is always such a positive light in your life that you can't help but admire her; plus, you two have a connection unlike you have felt with any other. Being around her just makes you feel so comforted. That comfort would be what makes you slip, what makes that soft purr vibrate through your chest. Karlach seems surprised for a second before her beautiful smile stretches to her lips. "Well, well, Soldier! You must be feeling a bit better." You blush and lean against her chest more, "Being around you always makes me feel better... you're my favorite person.." Karlach's chest also starts to purr, and she holds you tighter, ecstatic the feeling is mutual.

It's no surprise that people, especially kids, flock to Karlach. It's almost like she is a magnetite, but you know it's just because of her kind soul. Karlach has become a role model to the teifling kids, and honestly, Karlach couldn't be happier about it. Karlach has been spending the last hour telling stories to them and receiving every compliment under the sun. Though she wouldn't fully admit it, she blushes as they call her a strong hero and beautiful. Once storytime is over and you two are walking back to camp, you see that Karlach is still on cloud nine. "Those kids are great, though I don't know if I am exactly role model material," Karlach says, still grinning. "Well, they have great taste; you are pretty amazing." You add as you two walk along. Karlach blushes at your words, "I think that you are way more admirable.... and beautiful...." You feel yourself grin and decide to shoot your shot by wrapping your tail around hers; she seems surprised for a moment before she tugs you closer and wraps an arm around your shoulders.

Karlach is so tender as she presses soft kisses to your skin. At the start, she had swept you off your feet and devoured your lips with hunger, her hands so greedily caressing over your most sensitive parts... But now that she has you where she wants you, lying prone underneath her muscular body. Softly pleading, trembling... Now Karlach wants to take her time as she explores your every curve, Worshiping you thoroughly. Karlach looks deep into your eyes as she slowly slips her hand down, smiling as she watches you unravel... Once she finally starts to tease her long fingers against your sex, you think you're about to evaporate to a different dimension. The only thing keeping you grounded is her voice and tail wrapped tightly with yours.

Shadowheart

You and Shadowheart were finally able to set up a proper date. It was the first thing you had promised her: go on a proper date with her after everything is done in the city. Today was a big deal for you; it was the day you hoped to take your flirtationship with Shadowheart into a relationship. The plan to seal the deal? A perfect kiss. The date was simple: a nice countryside picnic. You cooked and packed everything, and Shadowheart looked so radiant! It was all going according to plan. You two ate food, shared a cake, and fed the squirrels and ducks from around the lake. Shadowheart surprisingly has a way with animals and made quick friends with a particularly adorable squirrel. As the date was ending, you decided to make your move, so very gently you brushed her fair hair back behind her ear. Shadowheart leaned into your hand and looked at you with a knowing smile. "May I kiss you?" You asked barely above a whisper. "I would be disappointed if you don't." With the go-ahead, you leaned in and kissed her expecting lips softly. During your kiss, a pur starts to bloom from your chest, causing her to giggle and you to get embarrassed. You break the kiss feeling flustered, but your face is quickly brought back close by Shadowheart's hand. You whisper an apology, but Shadowheart only smiles and shakes her head, "Don't be embarrassed... I thought it was cute… and I hope you will do it again."

"Must you keep doing that?" You say with no real bite to your tone but still stern enough to make Shadowheart pause. "Why? Is it bothering you?" She asks casually before running her index finger up the base of your tail again, making a shiver tremble through your body. She knows she's teasing you, and you're loving every second of it. However, a person can only handle so much teasing for so long, and you want it to be her turn to shiver in excitement. So right before Shadowheart can lean back down and tease your twitching tail, you're quickly wrapping it around her waist and pulling her close to your chest. "If you're going to keep teasing me..... I'm just going to have to find ways to tease you...." Shadowheart smirks, "That sounds like a promise..."

It's not something you thought you would like, but with Shadowheart doing it, you just can't seem to mind. The more you kiss and tease her with your forked tongue, the more she seems to fall apart for you. Her soft moans are like a melody in your ears. Then you wrap your lips around that little swollen bundle of nerves, and it makes her pull on your horns harder and moan your name louder. The pull from her bringing you closer against your core makes your eyes roll, and you can't help yourself when you start to purr, and That just seems to get her closer to that blissful edge... Carefully you slip two fingers into her quivering slit, praying to the gods it will make her pull harder on your horns and grind against your eager tongue faster.

[dorayakichan]

tysm for responding!! may I request dating & smut (only if you are okay with the topic) hcs for wooin & joker (I love them both sooo much) take your time & thank you! 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Pairing: Joker x Fem bodied!Reader, Wooin x Fem bodied!Reader

Genre: smut, headcanons

cw: MDNI, sub!reader, fingering, oral, rough, squirting.

a/n: Thank you for the request, here it finally is and I hope you like it!

Wooin

Being in a relationship with Wooin is not only hard but near to impossible. You sometimes ask yourself why are you even enduring all of this, why are you still with him?

He is not the kind of person who will put your needs above his, yeah he does care about you but he cares about himself more than anything else.

You’re going to ask what’s wrong with that? Well, there is quite a lot starting with the fact that he doesn’t care where you are, how you are feeling, or what you are doing. If he wants to meet you you will always have to make time for him. 

To add to that he shows no affection at all be it when he is in a good or bad mood the only thing he ever does is tease you and get on your nerves. Or going on dates…. When was the last time you both went on a proper date? Right, you can’t even remember it anymore. 

 Well, you decided to ignore those red flags when you first started dating him so you have to accept the consequences of that now. 

You have more than once gone to meet him with the intention of breaking up and well all those times he has been able to change your mind because there is one thing Wooin is good at and you have to accept you enjoy it so much that it makes it impossible for you to break up with him…and that is…the way he pleasures you.

There is something so addictive about those moments when Wooin with one hand regardless of where you are slowly lowers his hand rubbing through your clothed core, the friction stimulating you as you let out small whimpers. He moves his fingers slowly but addictively, in result making you subconsciously wiggle moving your hips to get more of that friction.

Every time this happens you wish you could slap away that grin on his face as he gets you in an isolated area with no one around, holding onto your hips and then pushing down your panties getting a beautiful view of your glistening pussy, waiting to be devoured by him. 

Your panties are pushed inside one of his jacket pockets never to be returned in the end to their original owner. His eyes never leave yours as his hand moves up and down your thighs, thumbs ultimately resting on your wet core. As he does these he whispers in your ear the filthiest, most degrading things a man can say. Knowing how much that turns you on.

Wooin bents down, facing your dripping pussy as his thumb continues making circles on your clit. He looks up at you, waiting so you can take his glasses. As you do so degrading words come out of his mouth.

Although you wish you could hate it, you can’t when you see Wooin moving up one of your legs, your thigh resting on his shoulder, as he gets larger access to your naked core.

You are always taken by surprise the moment his snake-like tongue touches your area. Maybe it’s the way his tongue has that unique shape, you are not sure but the feeling it gives you is close to divine. In the beginning, he licks you moving all over your uncovered area. Not even leaving one part out. 

Then pulling your cunt closer to his mouth, nose pressed just over your clit as he inhales deep into you, causing a shiver to run through your body. You moan, unable to keep it suppressed anymore.

As if getting the signal he had been waiting for he starts devouring you, pulling you as close as he can. His tongue enters your hole and you feel the metallic touch of his piercing inside of you. He works diligently on you making you a crying mess begging for the release.

As you get closer to it he moves his tongue out and pushes two of his digits in and out of you curling them, while he continues to slurp up on your clit. Your hands grab on his hair, pulling him closer, too lost in the haze of pleasure. 

As if sensing the right time Wooin accelerates his movement bringing you to your orgasm. Your body shakes uncontrollably but is still held in its place as he sucks all the juice dripping down from your legs. 

After that, as every time thing happens you find yourself on his bed being fucked throughout the night and ending up once again losing all your resolve to end things for good with him.

Joker

On the other hand, Joker is quite the opposite of Wooin but not in the ways you would expect him to. It’s not like he is the kind to show affection by making big gestures. In the eyes of others, it might look like he is quite cold to you, but only you can see that he is not.

It’s the way his hand always ends up on your shoulder, waist, or grabbing one of your fingers gently and so lightly holding it. It’s the way he only looks at ease when he can touch a part of you, even if it’s just a strand of your hair. It’s weirdly satisfying to see how he is so dependent on your presence. 

You can understand it even when he is on the ring fighting as soon as his eyes catch yours, you can see relief wash over his body as though your existence in itself brings peace to him. 

He doesn’t say much or compliment you daily, but when he does he makes sure to speak the most heartfelt words to ever exist. His personality is not one of a romantic guy, but strangely enough, everything he does makes the whole atmosphere change into one full of hearts, flowers, and confetti falling over the two of you. It melts you on the spot.

Certainly, there are days when things don’t go well, and when you argue or fight it ends up in a silent war of nerves and giving attitude to each-other. 

If you think he could become violent with you when angry, even when it goes above and beyond his limit, he never touches you. He keeps such cool that would amaze everyone who sees it. 

It’s as if he becomes weak in front of you. 

On the other hand, there is a time when he can definitely get a bit especially when he is angry and that is during sex.

If he is angry he usually lifts you up from where you are and takes you to a motel, his changing room in the underground fighting club, or one of your houses, never anywhere else.

When you hear the click of the door lock that’s when you know you are in for a rough time. He nearly rips your clothes apart leaving you naked in front of him. He turns you around, bending you down as you hold on to the nearest thing you can find. 

He violently rubs your clit pushing his fingers inside and out enough to get you wet and then with no prior warning he pushes his member inside of you causing a squeal to come out of your mouth due to his length. 

His cock moves fast abusing your walls with each powerful push of his hips into you. His arms cage your body pulling it harshly with every move. He pounds and pounds until the only audible sound inside the room is the slapping of your skin with fluids squelching and dripping down on your legs. 

He ends up pushing you and himself to the limit as his tip pounds your cervix monstrously reaching that desirable state of intense pleasure. 

If he has calmed down after that he usually turns into vanilla mode taking care of you and gently entering a second and third time with a much more delicate feeling than the beginning, holding you much more lightly kissing every inch of the skin he previously bruised with his tight grip. 

But if he has not calmed down yet, well the process of ravishing you like a beast continues for hours on end, even when you beg him to stop he does not listen. 

Usually after those nights, you are unable to walk the next day making him feel internally guilty for what he has done. To Joker's luck and surprise, you are never mad although sometimes you ought to be you end up always reassuring him that it was okay.

Let’s accept it you love it too when he roughly manhandles you sometimes how could you ever complain about that in the first place. When you notice his lowered head the morning after, you can’t stop yourself from whispering to him how you are fine and you love him no matter what.

[mrandmrssnowbaird]

very submissive kept-boy coryo, but you're a soft dom and you just wanna take care of him forever when you realize how badly he needs you. dacryphilia, begging, coryo on his knees and loving it.

You blink rapidly in shock, your heart pounding in your chest at the sight of Coriolanus Snow down on his knees. For you. You're usually so good with your words but you're speechless. Your face flushes. Coriolanus moves forward on his knees a bit, eyes still filled with tears. The sight is odd for so many reasons. One being of course the situation itself, the second being - usually, you find men crying to be kind of funny. The way their face crumpled instantly, like they'd been holding back far too long and the sudden release of emotion was so great that they can't help but look so ugly you could hardly stand it. But not Coriolanus. No, he's quite pretty with tears in his eyes, bottom lip trembling. You swallow hard. "What can I do? Please, tell me." He begs, almost whining.

Your heart skips a beat, and you sigh. "Come here." Coriolanus does, not bothering to get up off of his knees and instead shuffling forward towards you til he's right in front of you, hands still clasped. When he reaches you, you place your hands on his shoulders. The second you touch him, his tears start to fall. He starts to lower his head to hide, but you won't let him, placing your fingers under his chin for a moment. Your heart is pounding so hard in your chest you think he might be able to hear it, and the sight of his tears falling sends a rush of heat through you. "Please...please just tell me what I can do." He continues, definitely whining now. It's sweet, you think. Maybe you're making a mistake trying to end things. "Well...this is a good start." You say, a little breathless. "I like you on your knees.” Coriolanus blinks, and looks around a bit, up at you, down at himself, as if he just notices now that he's on his knees. He swallows hard, a few more tears falling. He nods. He'll stay on his knees, if that's what you want. And it is what you want. You still want him - you just want him to crawl on his knees for you, give himself more fully. Til he has nothing left. That's what's missing. Coriolanus was still holding back, sweet as he was to you these past weeks. You're beyond aroused. The tension had been building between you these last weeks, but nothing had been done about it. Coriolanus has been a near perfect gentleman, and you’re starting to understand why. You don’t necessarily know what you’re doing, but with Coriolanus on his knees in front of you, it seems nearly instinctual. You touch his cheek. Tears are still coming, though slowly. Your thumb brushes along his wet skin, not wiping the tears away but rather caressing them into his pale skin. “It’s okay,” You tell him softly. “Y-you’re not gunna leave me?” Coriolanus asks, looking up into your face, his own full of hope. “No…I’m not gonna leave you.” You tell him, and he releases almost a dramatically relieved sigh, tilting his cheek into your hand, eyes closed. “Not when you asked so nicely.” You add, watching his face for a reaction. Coriolanus sighs again, enjoying the compliments. 

You lean in to whisper in his ear, “You like this, don’t you? Being on your knees for me?”

Your breath in his ear causes him to let out a whimper and you fully understand, as he nods his head, why Coriolanus was so hesitant to fully open up. It was bad enough the Snows were broke - even worse if the entire student body found out he gets off on being made to get down on his knees. 

The house of Snow had fallen so hard and so far that now, he was down on his knees in front of you, crying and begging you not to leave with an erection tenting his black slacks. Just a little bit pathetic. 

And you love it. 

This somehow only makes Coriolanus more appealing, endearing. 

“Are you hard for me, Coryo….? You love begging on you knees that much?” You ask him, voice a mixture of amazed, soothing, and teasing as you continue to whisper in his ear. He groans at the feel of your breath in his ear again, at the little bit of degradation. His hands unclasp and he grasps your waist, holding onto you as he nods. 

This isn’t good enough for you.

“Use your words, Coriolanus. Tell me.” 

He releases a frustrated whine, turning red. This isn’t easy for him, but that’s part of what’s making it so arousing. 

“Say it.” You don’t even have to threaten him. He says it. 

“Okay, okay, I-…I love…I love being on my knees for you.”

Both of you are breathing a little faster at the discovery of a new aspect of a relationship you thought was very nearly over. 

How wrong you were. 

“What do you want, Coryo?” You ask, because you genuinely want to know. Does he even fully know himself? 

You pull away to look at his face. He does look confused, uncertain. You know he’s a virgin - he knows you’re not. You’re not incredibly experienced, but more so than he is. 

But he manages to shock you again. 

“I wanna…I wanna make you cum. Will you show me how? Please?” 

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Could I get a Hc for how the M6 would react to an Mc that has regeneration like an axolotl due to it being the fools body?

Like during the ending of the route or during a fight post route Mc loses a finger or an arm and as their recovering they notice it growing back and like a few weeks or a month later it's like they never lost it to begin with. Due to how they view themselves and the fools body making them look like how they ses themselves.

Similarly to how Lucio lost his arm so long ago his metal arm is just a part of him so when he took the fools body it come with the metal arm.

(Let me know if it's not a good Hc idea and I'll change it for a different one.)

The Arcana HCs: When MC can regenerate their limbs

Julian

His first thought is "I have to keep them away from Valdemar"

His second thought is more along the lines of a very intrigued medical scholar. He's dying to figure out exactly how this works - how does your body know what to form and where??

His third thought definitely bears his younger sister's influence, because it's the sleep-deprived, melodramatic theatre kid version of "twinsies!!!"

Yes, twinsies! Because now you're one of the only other people in the world who knows what it's like to have crazy regenerative abilities! (though, he gave his up, but still -)

Will chart the growth of the limb and regularly ask you if you got any new injuries that day (obviously he hopes the answer is no, but if it's yes he has multiple reasons to want to know now)

Occasionally thinks himself into an anxiety spiral worrying that he's treating you too much like a medical phenomenon and not enough like his beloved partner. A round of smooches will take care of that

Asra

Honestly? They're more relieved, than anything

He is uncomfortably aware of the level of responsibility he has for yoinking you back to this plane of existence and knowing that you have this safety net for physical injuries is very reassuring

That said, they're still very curious about just how far it goes (not that they'd ever try to find out)

May or may not add "lizard" to his list of pet names for you, because lizards are also cute and known for losing limbs and then regenerating them for self preservation reasons

May or may not study just enough of the magic involved to suggest trying to grow said limb to be ... different than the previous one. You could grow an arm of neon tentacles!

May or may not regularly use body paint to turn your slowly regenerating limb into some kind of illusion, like a large, funky looking hamster hanging onto your shoulder (with your permission)

They love you regardless of how many limbs you have

Nadia

To say that she is intrigued is an understatement. She is borderline obsessed with your slowly reappearing limb

Much of that has to do with her desire to provide for you and the duty she's given herself of making sure that you are taken care of

Plenty of that has to do with what an excellent excuse it is to initiate touch and general affection

But a good portion of that is because, while she can tell you're a unique case, it's the kind of ability that would do so much good if she could find a way to recreate it even a little bit

She's not going to ask you to do anything unreasonable, but she might suggest allowing lead researchers in the medical field to chart your progress and study it in case they find anything

On another note, she does love to make you feel and look your best. If you've lost an arm and your outfit has gloves, you'd best believe she's ordering a mini one for your tiny hand

Pulls out old baby jewelry to try on it while it's small

Muriel

He's not going to lie, he does find it just a little disturbing

He's not going to go as far as saying that it's unnatural (he knows of plenty of creatures who can do the same thing) but it's definitely not a normal thing for humans to do

It's far outweighed by his gratitude that you're able to heal from such difficult injuries to this extent. He likes your limbs :)

He's also terrified of accidentally ruining whatever unforeseen magical force is allowing your body to manifest itself back together

You're clearly already very good at losing limbs! He doesn't want to make you lose another one! What if it's like one of those budding flowers that's really sensitive to touch?

He doesn't want to find that out the hard way! What's he going to do if he reaches for your mini-hand and the rest of your mini-arm comes with it? Stick it back on??

The above freakout is happening on the inside. On the outside, he's avoiding that area of your body and being very protective of it

Portia

It goes without saying that she thinks this is pretty cool

First off, you lost a limb, which is badass by default, and now you're completely regrowing it on accident - that's amazing!

She does casually mention that she is curious about just how far your body can regenerate itself at one point, but that's just idle wondering unless it's something you want to look into too

Fascinated by your mini-limb while it's growing back

Comes up with a whole list of pet names for it (squishy, tiny, silly, mr peach, miss millie, The Growth ...) but she mostly sticks to referring to it as your baby

"Good morning MC! And good morning squishy! How's your baby growing?" (all this is said while she hands you your preferred morning beverage and rubs the affected limb like it's a belly)

Overall she's so adaptable that she kind of ... forgets that it's weird. At least, until someone else sees it for the first time

Then she'll tell them it's because her shrink ray missed

Lucio

Seriously?

No no no no no -- SERIOUSLY?!?!?

He's been living with a prosthetic limb (albeit a really cool one) for TWENTY YEARS NOW, and you just randomly start growing yours back just like that? JUST LIKE THAT?! NO!!!

He's not mad because he thinks you don't deserve it! You do deserve it! You saved the world without having to make a life full of criminal oopsies first, and you did it while you rehabilitated him!!

He's mad because even if he doesn't deserve it more than you do, he wants it more than you do! WHY DIDN'T THE ARCANA OFFER HIM HIS ARM BACK, HUH?!

(This is a very good point at which to tell him that you think the metal arm is attractive. He will quickly switch gears into crooning and flirting at you and rarely bring it up again)

He does often comment on its growth patterns, and has definitely made an innuendo or two about it for funsies

[gutterfuuck]

i literally have your post notifs on now 🫣 that conquerer mark fic was soooo good omfg 🙏🙏 while it’s kind of on the topic of bff mark, would you be able to do like…childhood friends mark that knows the reader is attracted to him (probably in love with him) and kind of uses it to manipulate her? or something similar idk LMAO i’m just in love w the childhood friends/friends to lovers trope and i think u could put a really fun and dark spin on it!

mdni! possibly uncomfortable for some, will add tags soon so please bare with me! not very smut like, some at the end.

this is just a small drable, i will extend on this idea! please enjoy!

i very love this idea; i already know exactly what i will do with this hehe. he's been aware of your little secret crush on him since you both started highschool, thinking nothing of it, thinking that you would eventually grow out of him… until you don’t. you were certain that you were destined to be.

that was until amber came along. you felt threatened, terrified that she would take him from you- she was gorgeous-and he knew it tore you up inside. when college came around; you almost gave up on him. you thought back to how he had knocked on your bedroom window floating one day making you panic and almost scream awake the entire neighbourhood. oh how you wished that he had stayed by your side.

you scrolled through the newsfeeds on your phone, watching back mark-invinvible's - fight today, pining for the sweet boy that you had fallen in love with. you felt as if you needed mark grayson to eat, sleep and drink.

he flew through your window, taking you by surprise as he nodded his head at you as a quick greeting, disappearing into your bathroom in his suit and emerging a second later in no shirt and pajama pants. "thought i'd do a quick check around the city before bed." he spoke, your eyes quickly glancing at his body, observing him. you were sure he wouldn't notice, you'd been doing this for years and he hadn't even paid you no mind.

that wasn't true. mark saw the way you looked at him. not just now, but all the time. he could see the way you mourned for him, heard the way you touched yourself for him, jerking off to the sounds of your hopeless shameful cries afterwards, slowly slipping into despair as you tried to wrestle with the realisation that mark was with another. he craved it. craved you, wanted you.

he wanted to get off…

you were his best friend, so when you watched him slump onto the end of your bed and listened to him complain about his relationship, you comforted him, you heard him. you felt guilty to admit it, but your heart fluttered at the possibility of amber being out of the picture. oh you felt horrible.

mark knew how you felt: euphoric. you were hoping on their downfall. mark and amber were actually only on a little break. “it’s just been rocky recently,” he would get back with her eventually. “we should try seeing other people.”

and he sees right through you, sees right through his pretty little friend. he doesn’t hesitate, his hand resting on your lower back. “i know you like me, i’ve seen the way you look at me.” he speaks and you flush, wanting the bed to open up and swallow you whole. you try to speak, but are interrupted by mark. handsome, strong, sweet mark. “i’m kinda pent up… just- i don’t know.. i don’t wanna make it weird,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, shrugging along with his words. take the bait.

“me and amber— not so active anymore. if you get me.” what was he getting at? you thought your heart was going to pop out of your delicate little chest.

and then he finally pops the question.

before long, you’re on your knees, mouth stretched around your best friend’s dick, drool leaking from the edges of your mouth as he rocked his hips into your face, “c’mon now, i thought you liked me… hah- are you gonna start being a good fleshlight or am i gonna have to go next door and finish inside of amber, huh?” his words were lost on you, the only thing you could focus on was the way you had finally gotten his attention; you were finally useful to him.

[cardigan-ns]

Wandering Star (2)

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Ben’s dead and there’s no reason to stay. Diego gives you an ultimatum. Live with him or rot away in the commission. But after being with him things take a turn for the worst.

Synopsis: HERE

Note: This is definitely a long part.

Part 1 <- here Part 3 <- here

You’ve not left your room for weeks, not for food, not for the free day, not even to give your weekly calls to your parents. Ben’s death struck you like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Handling death was in your veins but not now, not after the 4 years you’ve spend close to him, helping him, shading the rest of the family with him.

Seventeen now, you and Diego snuck around, got more and more close together, secretly without his father’s notice. Not being able to keep your distance after your kiss that night. Only one of the hargreeves suspected it though (that you knew of), Ben, he’d heard you and Diego through the wall, he hated being next door to Diego. He always banged the wall yelling for you to “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” causing you to place a silencing hand over Diego’s mouth. But knowing your connection it just made the both of you more frustrated and passionate. It was thrilling, just how hungry his eyes got when he saw you. The power in each of your veins manifesting more and more out of sorts every day, making it lustful too. But that craze died down when Ben left, both of you too stunned with grief to even think about anything of the intimate kind.

A knock struck your door, “Go away!” You barely got the words out as you sat on your floor, back against your bed, crying. The door opened slowly anyways, despise your call to leave. “My dad wants you downstairs.” Luther spoke, mopey, still in pyjamas, nobody was talking this well. You failed as a team. You cried again, looking at number one, “Goddamn Luther can’t you just fuck off!” You screamed, your grief turning into malice. Luther walked into your room, crossing his arms, “Get. up.” He spoke through gritted teeth, making you laugh, standing up, punching him in the gut, winding him. “Aw.” He groaned as you gripped both of his shoulders, shoving him out of the room. “I told you to fuck off!” Luther stumbled and whacked his back off the wall across from the hall, his eyes pained, he didn’t expect you to be that cruel, he was only the messenger, he ran to his room, slamming his door.

You looked at the dent the wall made with the strength of Luther’s impact. You walked out of your room and touched it, noticing just how unhinged you’d become, you felt despair now, wanting to run to Luther and apologise but you knew he wasn’t in the mood to look at you right now. You decided to see whatever Reginald wanted, wanting to get it over and done with. You reached his office to see your parents sitting there, you crossed your arms immediately fixing your posture and attitude when you saw them, you weren’t meant to be going home for another 2 weeks.

“Ah, Y/N, took your time.” Your mother spoke up, her curly auburn hair moving with her head as she turned to see you. You were still in your pyjamas too, expecting to be scolded by Reginald for lack of decorum, but he only sighed and tapped his pen on his desk advising you to sit down. You took a seat between your parents, facing the billionaire. “Now, I know you’ve taken it upon yourself to go on strike from your role.” You looked at your lap, ashamed for letting him down, he was disappointed, greatly, making your heart beat slow drastically. “But, Number 6’s death is merely just a mistake to add to your list.” Reginald confinued. But your father saw just how miserable you’ve become, zero wit, zero spark, zero ambition. You were overtaken by such dread, he just frowned, rubbing your back, causing you to look up at him, your eyes glossy. “I’m so sorry, dad.” He shook his head, kissing the top of yours. “Angel, it’s okay, we’re taking you home, that’s what this is about.” He whispered to you. Your mother glared at him, making him revoke the affection altogether, she was colder than a blizzard. Never allowing your father to treat you like his daughter.

But you finally acknowledged what your father had said after his presence left you. You looked around the room at the three adults. “No. I’m not due to go home for another 2 weeks. I’m not ready.” You protested, looking at your mother as if asking how she could do this to you, you stood up now, wanting nothing more than to run into Diego’s room and make him hide you, he was still asleep though, your mind letting you see what he was doing anytime you needed to pick up on it, you’ve learned to control the visions, but sometimes your control slipped up.

Your mother harshly grasped your arm, making you wince from the pain, you looked at her sadly. You wish she’d just be kind to you ONCE. “We are not done, how dare you treat us with such disrespect after we’ve travelled all the way here.” Your father rolled his eyes at your mother’s guilt trip over you, and you just huffed and spoke to her face. “Yeah, because a 0.1 second briefcase jump is worthy of my consideration.” You yanked your arm away with force and stormed out of the office, leaving your father silently proud of you, Reginald appalled and your mother playing the victim with a sad look on her face.

You ran upstairs banging on Diego’s door. You haven’t spoke that much after the funeral but you needed him right now. He didn’t answer and you took it upon yourself to burst in teary eyed and shook him up. “Diego…” your veins glowed and he was disorientated. “Huh?” His voice deep and growly from sleep and he gazed at you, seeing you cry. He immediately stood up, his hands holding both your arms making you face him fully. “What’s happened?” He was was gaining more and more protective of you by the day. But by his touch on you he saw what your mom had done and that your parents were downstairs. He was about to put a shirt on and walk you the door, seeing you cry made him so fucking mad.

“No. They aren’t taking you away from m-me.” He stuttered on his last word, your eyes softened and you kissed him, his brows that were furrowed instantly softened as he continued to have his lips on yours, he walked you towards his closet, grabbing a button up shirt, you grabbed it and let him slip his arms into it, still while kissing you buttoned it up for him. “God, they’re definitely not taking you away from me!” He panted as he grabbed your hand and you both ran downstairs. Diego flung one of his knives, the ones he hid in his pyjama pants, down the hall, it halting as it pinned your father’s suit blazer to the wall. Your parents just got into the hallway, your father got annoyed, “How in the hell.” He shook his head and your mother’s glare was golden, the look of disapproval only filled you and Diego with more drive, putting your hostility to your parents and not to each-other. “She not gonna be your weapon. She’s staying home, where she belongs.” Diego defended you, referencing the academy as your home, you just examined his beautiful face, just how you had one another wrapped around your fingers. Your father yanked his arm, from the knives hold, now having a rip all down his tailored navy suit, you stifled a laugh.

“Child, I don’t know what’s possessed you to think you can talk to her parents like that, but you must stop this at once!” Reginald’s stern voice echoed through the office, the door slightly ajar so he heard all the commotion. Diego just smirked, this was fun, he walked up to your father and briskly took the knife from the mahogany wall. He whispered threateningly, “She’s staying here.” Your father looked at you to see how you were taking this boys aggression towards him, but you were on his side. “Mom, dad. I’m staying here for my 2 weeks and that’s final.” Your mother was not happy with you in the slightest and walked to you strutting, grabbing your ear and forcing you to look at her. “You’re not the girl I raised. So rotten, it’s disgusting.” She was unbelievably cruel and bitter causing Diego to stare at her with distain, but he remained by your father, knowing you could handle yourself.

You just just pushed your mother, making her mind ripple, in your control, you just demanded her as her eyes glowed white, “You’re going to agree with me.” She shook her head, growing used to you trying to change her punishments all the time. “ONE MORE DAY! AND WE WILL BE BACK YOU BRAT!” She screamed as you stood back, not expecting her to get so loud, but at least she was letting you stay until tomorrow. Compromise. “Fine. Bye mother.” You smiled eagerly, “father.” You nodded to him as he was opening the front door, your mother’s vein popping out of her forehead as she was furious. Once they left, Diego walked over to you, fixing your hair a little, “Let’s get you packed then.” His hand moved to your shoulder tracing his thumb along the fabric of your pyjamas. You sighed, both of you walking to your room. It wasn’t the best thing in the world but atleast he could prepare today to say goodbye tomorrow.

As you both tiptoed down the bedroom corridor, as to not wake anyone, Luther fell back to sleep after your outburst. Diego peered out the window, halting you by putting his hand over your frame, to stop you taking another step. He walked to the window and tapped it with his blade, looking over his shoulder to you. “We should runaway.” You looked at him, disagreeably. “Yeah, to just have to police pick us up after making it out 20 minutes.” You huffed a laugh, Diego’s seriousness didn’t falter, wanting you to see his vision. “We could get out. Allison’s already moved out. Klaus hasn’t been home for days. Viktor is house hunting too. Runaway with me.” His eyes desperate for you to notice his sincerity, his want to keep you safe and free. Free from Reginald, free from your parents, the commission, yeah he told your parents this was your home, but he knew deep within his soul that your home is with him. But here we go again, your lack of agreement interfering your good time, it was always so short lived, being on the same page. “I’m going back to my parents tomorrow. You know better than anyone here that they can and will find me.” You protested with a valid excuse and he couldn’t handle that.

He walked into your room, grabbing the bag you came here with originally and threw some of your clothes in it before you pushed him away from that task. “What the hell are you doing?” Your frustration rising, as was his, he couldn’t take your rejection. “I’m packing for you, seeing as I mean nothing to you. As always.” His voice along with his demeanour was stern. He always knew just how to make you heated. “You know that’s not true, you asshole!” You pushed his chest again, making him hit your desk, he placed a hand behind his back, to the table steadying himself. You definitely woke viktor and Luther up by doing this. “Then why’re you running back to them like a scared little girl. You don’t need them.” He argued and he would continue to argue until you believed he was right. “Because it’s who I am.” You believed your only quality was to be an assassin. Diego saw you as so much more than that. Sometimes less than that, but all in all, he wasn’t just going to let you run right back to your hellscape.

“I’m not watching you walk out there, getting yourself killed.” He continued to pack your clothes, hypocritically his actions betraying his words, he tried fitting as much stuff in as he could, even packing your elephant stuffed animal, one that you slept with every night. Seeing Diego stuff Achilles into your bag meant that this was actually happening. The poor elephant had a dried blood stain on his right ear, after an altercation with the butler of a cruise in Italy when you were six. You killed the guy for laundering money on it, you and your parents undercover as a tourist family. No matter how many times you tried putting him through the wash, the blood never got out. Just like how the blood on your hands would never rinse from your memory, Diego was right, you needed to be set free, with him.

“Fine.” You sat on your bed, letting out a deep breath, you were overworked. Diego just gave you a look as he knelt before you placing both his hands either side of your knees. “It’s all going to be okay. I’ll get a place for us, okay?” His lips turned down as he looked at you with careful consideration. You nodded, your morning already giving you twenty different plot points.

You and Diego waited until everyone was asleep before your escape, no goodbyes, just a letter under Luther’s door, mostly you apologising for winding him. Reginald always told you that he required at least a 2 week notice if you were to move out, but after Ben died he just gave up on all of you altogether. So it wasn’t him you really had to worry about, but you took precaution anyways. You and Diego had packed all in all 5 bags, 2 each and then one with spare things that both held sentimental value to you, like the stitch Grace made Diego with his name on it and a domino mask. And a cassette Allison made you for your birthday, you made her one too, it was your gift to each-other.

Diego helped you out the 3 story window, luckily the drain pipe was there to slide down. Once you got to the concrete ground, the alleyway exit seemed too good to be true. Diego threw the bags down, you caught them, setting them on the ground, so nothing would smash, he then made his grand exit from the window, you smile up looking at him. Your future of freedom already clear in your mind, naive to how being in constant proximity to him would affect each-other.

Once he was by your side, he grabbed your hand with his gloved one, his knives on the holster over his chest, he smiled to you, squeezing your palm as you both ran down the streets of a midnight New York. You both made a pit stop at griddys donuts, the owner Agnes confused that two teens came in so late, ordering sugary treats and two sprites. But she gave you them anyway, noticing your bags. “Where are you guys headed?” The pink dressed woman asked as she set the plates down, you smiled and handed her a twenty, “We’re finally getting our own place.” Saying that aloud made Diego stare at you, his heart bursting at the seams at how lucky he was to have you be the one he fell for.

“I wish you two young lovers the greatest luck.” She nodded with approval as she walked to the back office to get your change for the twenty. Diego watched her leave then moved closer, to talk to you from across the table. “I saw a boxing gym across the way. Maybe we could sneak in there?” You looked out the window to see what he was talking about, your eyes brightened, “Yes.” You bit into your chocolate sprinkled donut.

After finishing your midnight feast, you and Diego walked across the street and ran to the back entrance to Al’s boxing gym. He took out a wire from his backpack and picked the lock, you were apprehensive, you couldn’t sense anyone around but you knew this place still had life, it wasn’t abandoned. Diego jimmied it open and you both entered and felt the cold chill emerging from the concrete gym. He walked around, punching the bag and lifting the weights as he went. You, on the other hand, immediately went to the office, a practical thing to do, most things you touched giving you the same vision of a man called Al. He was in his late 50s. He ran this place up from nothing and was organising monthly big fights, you seemed intrigued, Diego noticed you flicking through a file of old boxing poster dates. “What’s that?” He snatched it from you, smiling at you as you looked offended. “Boxing fights.” You told him as he’d already clocked it by looking at them. “I could do that.” He wanted to see your reaction, which you hesitated. “I mean we just broke into this guys place, are you sure we should hang around long enough for you to fight for the guy?” You weren’t wanting to feel the wrath of Al. Diego just dry laughed causing you to frown, “I need to make us money somehow…” you still weren’t convinced at his plea.

“Trust me, I’ve got this sorted.” He set the files down, “Look what I found.” He held your hand and walked you down a hallway, a boiler room, you suddenly got a gut feeling but you weren’t yet sure what it meant, whether it was good or bad, they both felt the same. “There’s a makeshift bed in there, we could both squeeze onto it.” You were extremely exhausted, yawning at the mention of collapsing onto a bed. You looked at the only person you trusted with your life, nodding. “Okay.” He stood a little behind you, his hand rubbing your shoulder as he kissed it. “Okay.” He copied your response. His kiss on any part of your body sent electricity through your veins.

You turned around, your eyes pouring into his. His faint smile made your heart palpate, he was magnificent. You undid his holster and he looked down at your hands unravelling it. “Let’s make ourselves at home.” You whispered handing him his bundle of knives hugged in leather. He pulled you in for a quick kiss, your wrists glowed, then dimmed, the glow rarely stuck around that long, the longest it’s ever lingered was in the first 2 years, you’re both now so used to one another.

You spend the night in eachothers arms, two stowaways, making a life from absolutely nothing.

You were lying there, half asleep, half conscious, hearing voices in groups. People in the main area of the gym laughing and singing along to music. “Yeah, a couple of troubled trespassers.” Suddenly a deep voice spoke to another as you heard footsteps approach your room. “In here?” A feminine voice spoke up, and the man’s voice agreed, suddenly the dimly lit room was now exposed by the bright light of a torch, blinding you and Diego’s closed eyes, he shot up and put one hand over his eyes and one hand on your arm, making sure you were within his safety.

“Y/N Bardot, get up right now!” You opened your eyes to see your mother dressed as a police officer, not even trying to be a worried mother. Fuck her. Diego scoffed keeping you by him as you sat up. “Jesus Christ you couldn’t stay away could you?” Diego spoke irritated, you just elbowed him in the side causing him to wince. “Officer, I’m afraid I do not tolerate rude pigs!” You spat out, respecting the character your mother tried so desperately to play. This caused Al to get a good look at you and Diego. He called the cops expecting you two to be a couple of homeless addicts, not expecting you to be some teens in need of asylum. His face rested in ponder.

Eliza just grabbed Diego off the bed and shoved him beside Al, making him look at the older man and give him a dirty look, knowing it had to be him who called your mom, not knowing how the commission had hacks to the emergency numbers. “Jesus fucking Christ, Eliza, just stop!” Diego hated your parents, especially your mom, hated how she talked to you, referred to you as anything but the kid she birthed, how could a mother be so cruel to her baby. Your mother then grabbed you by the hand as you protested with great restraint. “Is she not a copper?” Al asked Diego and Diego just rolled his eyes. “No, you idiot, look at her.” You just accepted defeat, your mother was holding a briefcase, you finally noticed it. “No.” You sighed. “Mom, no, please?” She just gave you a somber look as if you were the biggest disappointment of her life. After all she didn’t want you, she made that clear, you were merely a rank to keep her at the top of the commission. “No, darling, why do you have to make everything so difficult. Don’t you want to see your family?” Diego wanted to kill her, he felt as though he could, one simple stab and she’d be a goner, but that’s one thing you’d never forgive him for, and he wasn’t wanting to make you hate him.

“We had this all figured out.” Diego muttered, causing your mom to scoff and walk over to him, pushing her finger to his chest, causing him to narrow his eyes. “You think breaking and entering into this man’s gym is having it all figured out.” Then your mother looked over to you. “Jesus Y/N, you actually associate yourself with a bafoon such as this?” This made Al mad, he pushed Diego behind him. “Lady, I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.” The gut feeling you had from last night was all too clear now, good AND bad. Diego would have respite in here while you had to go back to home sweet home with the devil herself. Diego looked at Al confused that and adult was defending him like this. “Fine then. Y/N, honey.” Your mother gripped your hand again, and Diego tried to grab hold of you but she got you out of that room as quick as possible, pressing the button on the suitcase and off to the commission headquarters you went.

Diego shed a tear, trying to be stoic. Al looked at the boy, then looked around the room. “You can stay. But on one condition, mop the floors at night for me?” Diego didn’t give a fuck what Al wanted him to do with the gym he just wanted you back. “Whatever.” He sat on the bed, Al noticed your bags still here. “And if your girlfriend comes back, she can convince you to box for me, you’ve got potential, kid.” Diego’s eyes lightened, Al saw his potential, without him having to beg for him to look. “I’ll leave you be though, I’ll take you out to dinner tonight, just scrounge up some breakfast yourself.” He was supportive, something Diego subconsciously admired, he wasn’t asking much of him either which was a breath of fresh air, and he knew nobody was gonna come looking for him, he was alone. For once he was actually alone.

You took in the familiar halls, the familiar intercom rules that played on a loop, the familiar colleagues, you were just agitated, ready to kill your own mother. “Just take me to dad.” You spoke to her distastefully, only wanting your father right now, at least he had sympathy in his body, something you’ve now grown to appreciate after five and Ben were gone. And your mother lived and breathed.

You walked down the halls to your mother and fathers joint office, the tainted windowed door read ‘Bardot inquiries’. Your mother opened it and let you walk in, your father was stood by the window drinking a cup of coffee, he had two more in a holder on his desk, for each of his girls. “Sweetheart, you made it, without any wounds I hope?” You ran into his arms and he hugged you back, looking at your mother worriedly, and she rolled her eyes and sat at her desk, working the typewriter. Peter tried to let go but your hold on him only tightened, he was protesting but he was just concerned for your wellbeing, when you were at the academy yesterday you didn’t look so sharp, and especially not now.

“What’s the problem?” He finally made you let go, you walked across the desk and grabbed a coffee, one pump vanilla in your latte for sweetness. Just how you liked it. “Her.” You spoke bitterly glaring, at your mom. She just shook her head smiling angrily as she kept her eyes on the type writer. Your father gave you a look, ushering you not to push the situation, you sat on one of the chairs beside the door, taking a sip of your caffeinated beverage. “Where’d you go? You weren’t at the academy.” Jesus, news travelled fast. Your mother spoke up now, happy to call you out on your scandalous behaviour. “She was with that boy. In a run down boiler room. Like the horrid girls we raised her not to be.” Your lip quivered trying not to cry at how cruel she was, your dad just put his hands on his hips, looking between the two arguing ladies. “Sweetheart, maybe you should take a little walk, come to terms with what you want.” He looked at you, you raised a brow, how’s a walk going to help you any?

“Of course, kicking my feet about an agency hellbent on gore, will serve me in the right direction.” You stood up, leaving their office. Once you were gone your father handed your mother her coffee and he tutted, “She’s really vulgar.” Your mother just gave him an ‘I told you so’ look.

You dragged your feet along the shiny tiled floors and looked into each room you walked by, until you saw Hazel, he looked pretty beaten up from one of his missions, he sat in the common room, you went in taking a seat beside him. “Hey kiddo, I haven’t seen you in quite some time.” He spoke chuffed. You didn’t even look at him. You just stared at the little television that played the welcome video repeatedly until someone kicked it in, mostly you, there’s around 20 new televisions brought in weekly, due to workplace violence. “It’s been 3 months, Hazel, it’s always 3 months.” You threw your head back on the couch, slouching. “That’s still quite some time.” His brows raised a little showing that there was truth behind his words. You finally looked at him, his emotions calm and assuring, as he never usually let you see any bad temper from him, he was always the nicest employee here, and herb. Dot too. But you had a soft spot for hazel.

“Do ever feel like you’re living a lie?” Your blunt question sparked a little pain in his gut, he hated thinking too much about his career decision. “In what way, sport?” You reached over and broke the antenna off the TV, not wanting to see that animated briefcase anymore, his cartoon smile filled you with unbelievable rage. “I’m with the commission, correcting the timeline, a child soldier. Then I’m with Reginald Hargreeves, fighting crime, a-maturely. I can fight better but whenever I’m there something stops me, like the child I am doesn’t want me to be violent.” Hazel’s heart broke when he heard your side to your life, everyone else always had to convince him you were okay with what you do, even though he had doubts on the morality of it. “So, you’re saying that your lie is thinking you should stay here?” Hearing him ask that made you realise you were in a deeper mental hell than you thought. “No. The lie I’m living is thinking I could ever be normal. Have a white picket fence life, no power, no briefcase, being content with just me.” Your mother taking you from Diego made you question the ethics of it. You and him weren’t just 2 normal runaway kids, young love over living with your individual parents. Your lives weren’t built that way, meaning it just wouldn’t work. You loved him, a little too much, but you were always going to run, that was just in your nature, never tied to a place, hell, you were swapping personalities every 3 months. You were breaking at the seams.

Hazel unbuttoned his blazer, getting comfortable to help sit and divulge your life crisis at 17. “You don’t need to have that figured out yet. You can be happy and then take your life in a completely different route.” He sighed seeing your eyes so dim. “Think of this, when you’re 30 where will you be?” You didn’t know. How could you, I mean, you could just kill the guard by the infinite switchboard and break in and look, but the future was always changing with every decision you made, who’s to say what it will truly be. “I don’t know.” This made Hazel smile softly. “Exactly, you don’t know, so don’t think that being normal isn’t in the cards for you. It’s your life at the end of the day, don’t believe what you’re conditioned to believe.” He’s been having doubts about being here too. You could feel it from him. That eased your consciousness a tonne. Without thinking, you hugged the man, he was truly a friend, whether you were colleagues or not, he was like an older brother, and with a pat of your back, you finally realised why your father told you to go on a walk.

You quickly walked back to your parent’s office, stopping yourself before going in, almost fearful at what they’ll say. You breathed out and opened the door. It was just your father, he gave you a little smile as he packed some files into his non-time travelling briefcase, he was taking these home to theorize on his big pin board, he did that with all his cases, it never faltered, and sometimes you’d stay up late nights with him to help him solve cases. “You coming home tonight or are you still protesting your right to freedom?” He spoke sarcastically, the brunette man clicking his case closed. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that, where’s mom?” He gave you a confused look, “She always has an early day on Wednesdays, you know this.” You had actually forgotten what day it was after being so grief stricken by Ben, and running away, you didn’t have time to look at the newspapers or listen to the radio. “Okay, whatever, she doesn’t matter.” He gave a dry chuckle and sat down on the desk, letting you pace and ramble.

“You were right, well, mom was. She didn’t raise me to be a horrid girl who runs away without alerting you.” Your father nodded along, no idea where this was going. “But I interpret it differently, I’m not made to kill. I’ve been conditioned to believe I am because that’s the family I was born into. But I am not a violent person.” You were just a kid, a lost one at most. Your father crossed his arms now, tugging on his loose tie from working so hard all day. “I don’t want to be your soldier anymore.” That was the most honest and truthful you’ve ever been to him about your needs and wants. He seemed guilty at you calling yourself his soldier and he had to admit, you weren’t wrong. “I love Diego, dad. And I know mom hates his guts but we have a real connection and I’m not going to let you hide me away from him. He’s made me see that this life isn’t who I am.” You continued to pace every-so-often stopping glance at him hoping he was keeping up. Your father was a bright man, there was no doubt he felt your frustration and resentment. He stood now, placing one hand on his side, scratching the back of his neck, with the other. “Angel, I want you to follow your dreams, but you don’t know what you want, you’re a child.” He was the one person who you wanted to understand you, and that hurt deeply.

“Dad?” Your eyes saddened and he immediately wanted to take it back. “All I’m saying is, he’s one boy, there’s millions of them. And he’s only going to break your heart. This is your true home.” You sat down in defeat, your hands covering your face, “Please just listen to me.” You whined like a little kid, after all that’s how you mentally felt, you never got to be one. “Can’t you hear what I’m saying? Diego’s my family. Not you, not mom, I was dumped on you. I chose to love him. There’s a difference than being forced to.” Your father could live in all the denial he wants but he cannot escape the fact that he failed you, he was more of an operative than a dad. Your mother heavy hitting boss than a nurturing mother.

Your father walked towards the other side of the room, unlocking his metal cabinet, he’s never actually let you see inside it before. You were amazed he was finally unlocking it in your presence. “I can’t force you to do anything. You’re almost an adult. So, take this.” A briefcase, your own briefcase. “I bought it when you were born, for you to take when you started disagreeing with me about your future, like you are now.” He was understanding you, finally seeing you as the person you were and not what he expected you to be.

“You mean it? I can have it?” You now stood by him, seeing the entire contents of the cabinet. A passport, a commission suit tailored to your size, an elephant mask, similar to the bear and bunny Hazel and Cha Cha have. Yours was purple. “It’s like Achilles.” Your father placed an assuring hand on your shoulder as you stood by him. “But you don’t need these.” He closed the cabinet, just keeping the passport out for you. “Go see the world, without having to kill someone, for the holiday. The briefcase is for you and Diego to go wherever.” He made you face him now, “and to visit me, if you’ll remember after your amazing sights.” He seemed wounded with grief that his little girl has grown up. You rested your head on him. Somber and bittersweet, he was finally letting you go.

“What about mom?” That was the real worry. He just kissed the top of your head, like he always did, “I’ll calm the wolf.” He assured you and that made you smile through tears. Not actually admitting to yourself that this was it. The commission life was no more, you could be with Diego. “I love you, Angel.” Your dad ruffled your hair, causing you to give an annoyed look, but secretly you loved happy moments as this. “I love you too, dad.” You left his office feeling better than you did entering. And all you had to do was log the date into the briefcase “September 28th 2006”.

It’s been 12 hours since you left, your mother picking you up at 7am it now being 7pm. Diego was mopping the floor of the gym, Al closed up early because he wanted to take Diego to get some food for dinner. He had the radio on and was listening in to an article about the legacy of WHAM, when the doors opened. You arrived, the mop has never hit the floor faster and Diego immediately pulled you into a tight embrace. “Holy shit!” He smiled chuffed that you chose to come back and be with him. He’d even decorated the boiler room with both your things, making sure to gently set the cassette player on your own personal stand.

“Alright alright, ease the applause.” You taunted him and he set you back down on the ground. You found your way back, and he was so unbelievably grateful. He then got irritated, “Is this a goodbye? I feel like you just got sent here to tell me you’re gonna vanish off the face of the earth. No way your mom is lenient enough to let you stay.” His paranoia making you laugh, you sat on a balance beam and he was still apprehensive. “Diego, I’m all yours. I stood my ground and the bastards let me go.” Hearing you say you were all his filled a swell of pride in his ego, he crossed his arms with a little smile tugging at his lips. “All mine then?” He was delighted, but it wouldn’t be long before you were at each-other throats again about how he was mopping wrong and forgot to even add soap.

Note: this was so long and part 3 will also be backstory but they’ll be older. I just really want to add a certain plot, you’ll thank me for it.

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@ravenn-darkholme @shadowbriar @total-lunareclipse4 @vesper4seance @yanibobonni @st4w3

[katelynnwrites]

Laura's Honigbiene | Laura Freigang x Baby!Reader

warnings: preemie baby and medical stuff

word count: 546

summary: laura calls you her honeybee

a/n: very much of a short one but we will see where this goes i guess, part of Laura's Honigbiene

You’re born so absolutely tiny that Laura can’t hold you.

She has to watch you lie in an incubator instead. The neonatal intensive care nurse puts a special eye mask on you, to protect your eyes and your Mama can’t stop looking at you.

The doctors tell her that the lights in the incubator will treat your jaundice and the incubator itself will help keep you warm.

They also tell her that it will be weeks before she can take you home because of how early you were born.

Premature is the term the doctors had used because you weren’t supposed to have been born for another two months.

Your Mama sits by your enclosed plastic bassinet and just listens to the beeping of the monitor measuring your vitals.

To Laura, the soft hum of the machines working kind of sounds like the buzzing of a bee. She takes comfort in it, knowing that it means you are going to be okay.

‘My Honigbiene.’ She murmurs fondly, associating the sound and insect with you after that.

She watches you grow in the incubator, watches you squirm around and begin to become more alert.

The overwhelming relief she’d had when your doctors told her that you were now big enough for her to hold you, your Mama doesn’t think she’s ever felt relief like that.

She cries when they put you on her chest, you’re still so small and you kind of wiggle around under her shirt until she puts her hand on your back.

Then you still and blink up at her slowly.

Laura simply cannot tear her gaze away from you, soaking in the feeling of finally being able to hold you. She can feel your breathing against her bare skin as precious little puffs of air.

There are still chest leads, your feeding tube and a pulse ox attached to you but your Mama doesn’t care. She’s holding you close and that’s all that matters.

‘I love you.’ She repeats, over and over again.

Kangaroo care seems to be your thing because you regularly fall asleep on your Mama. Something about the direct skin to skin contact soothes you and Laura falls in love with the way your tiny body feels on her chest.

Her body warmth helps to regulate your body temperature and she makes sure to spend as much time holding you as she can.

******

You are allowed to go home when the doctors are sure that you can bottle feed and breathe reliably on your own. Your body temperature has stabilised and you have gained weight in the time you’ve spent in the hospital’s intensive care nursery.

Bringing you home is a special moment for your Mama. She cradles you gently as she walks you through the front door.

‘Welcome home Honigbiene.’ She softly says.

Your Mama gives you a tour of your home, monologuing to you about anything and everything as she goes.

When she reaches your nursery, she gives you a little kiss on your forehead.

‘And this is your room. I think I’ll need to add some honeybee decorations to make it truly yours. What do you think?’

You make a little grunt, one of your many newborn noises and Laura smiles.

‘I’ll take that as a yes.’

German Translation:

Honigbiene - Honeybee

[slamsuckingslut]

can i request a willne x fem!reader where theyre fwb but they both end up catching feelings so they stop being fwb but now theyre jealous when the other person is with anyone else?

if not, thats totally okay!⭐️

thanks so much!🩵

OF COURSEEEE i love this goofy guy and his stupid little mullet smsm ♥️♥️

A/N; I didn't really add many speaking parts cause i haven't ever written for Will before and i gotta speed run watch more of his videos later and i might come back and edit this. Pls us ur imagination on what you think he would say during parts. Also, it's more like Will silently hating the dudes y/n goes out with and y/n being like "he alone.. i could fix that." Then blah blah blah READ THE STORY.

NSFW AT THE END OF THE STORY, I MARKED WHERE IT STARTS SO ANYONE WHO DOESN'T WANT THAT PART CAN SKIP IT !!

WillNE x fem!Reader

Y/n used; no real description of how they look besides being a woman, use ur imagination.

Being friends with benefits with Will is like being friends with him.. Just with sex included.

The mutual agreement to not catch feelings was followed by the both of them.

Kind of.

If it wasn't for his pretty smile or sweet laugh, or y/ns usual sweet attitude towards him or her (e/c) eyes that stared so tenderly at Will whenever they were together.

Maybe if they both were more careful about how they thought about the other, they could've worked it out. Instead. They're just friends again now. Really. Really awkward and jealous friends.

Months of sleeping with eachother like lovers then acting like friends again the next day turned into months of jealousy and awkwardness, and avoidance. Will hated the guys y/n saw, y/n hated when she saw or heard about Will trying to go on dates again. Months of jealousy mixed with want.

But Will is too prideful to admit he's jealous when he hears you're going on a date with a guy, feeling his gut tighten in an uncomfortable knot. And y/n is too awkward to try to speak to Will about how she feels about him, her heart twisting when she notices Will's attempts to go on dates like how he used to before the benefits.

Mutual agreement to not catch feelings turned into mutual want. Or maybe just dislike. Yeah, Will must not like y/n anymore if he keeps avoiding her, right? She can just move on and actually be happy with one of the random guys she goes on a date with.

Nope.

Here they are. Y/n finally tracked down Will and managed to get him to stay for a few minutes.

"Will.. we have to talk."

Y/ns voice was so soft, it gave Will heart palpitations, made his hands sweaty and his face feel hot. He looks at her, he shouldn't like her, she doesn't like him right? It was just a sex thing, then they broke it off. She sees other guys, Will just.. sits and hates them all, knowing he could be better than they could be.

"Alright. Well what is it then?"

Wills voice couldn't help but have an annoyed tone. You have to cover the sound of being in love with something, right?

Y/n stares at him, not really knowing what to say, not having thought out what would be good to say. She thought. Staring. Before blurting out,,

"I want you, Will."

She immediately blushed, looking almost afraid of what Will would say. First they lost having amazing sex together, now what if she loses him as a friend too because she said something dumb like that? No, that wouldn't work.

He stares at her for a second, a cocky but sweet smile slowly forming on his face as he nods.

"You're lucky you're bloody gorgeous, Y/n, or I wouldve been able to move on by now."

He says as he stares at her, carefully putting his hands on her hips. A familiar feeling to y/n that makes her stomach do flips.

She smiles, excitedly almost, as she puts her hands against his chest, leaning into him.

"So.. friends with benefits again or?"

Y/n asks, almost testing if Will wanted more. Or just the sex again. Silently hoping he'd wanted more, but deciding she'd settle for the benefits again if he didn't love her back the same way she loved him.

He stared at her, shaking his head. His arms snaked around her waist, his face close to hers as they stare at eachother, each having their own slight blush.

"More. I hated seeing you with all those other guys.. they seemed like real morons."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He mumbled as he kissed her, holding her close, practically desperately like he didn't want to share her or let her go again. Y/n happily returned the kiss, her arms slinking around his shoulders as she leans against him.

"My place or your place Lovely? I'll take you to dinner after, like a true boyfriend."

He said softly as he pulled away, his eyes crinkling as he grins widely at her as she nods and smiles back kissing his cheek before pulling away and grabbing his hand.

"Yours, and I'm not one to say no to a free dinner."

He nodded and gently held her hand in his, leading her as they walked.

(magic teleport to Wills place, smut beyond this point so be warned if u dont want that.)

SMUT BEYOND HERE

^

^

They barely made it into the door before they were all over eachother. Wills hands groping and grabbing at her as he kisses her hungrily, her hands feeling up his chest as she holds his shoulders and pulls him close.

They slowly make their way to Wills room, discarding their clothes piece by piece on the way there, not caring about the mess.

Will put his hands on the backs of her thighs, picking her up and gently setting her on the bed before crawling on top of her.

He unclipped and removed her bra as he kissed along her neck and collarbone, letting out a little groan as he hears her soft shaky breaths and her hands sliding into his hair and holding it gently.

He kissed his way down to her chest, leaving dark hickeys before kissing down her stomach as his hands slid down to her hips. His fingers carefully hooked and pulled down her underwear, discarding it onto the floor with her bra.

He carefully cupped her pussy in his hand, teasingly dipping two of his fingers into her, eliciting a soft moan from her. He carefully slid his fingers in, gently moving them in and out, spreading and curling them.

She let out little soft moans as his fingers worked her already soaked pussy, her hands gently gripping and combing through his hair. He pressed a kiss to her lips, slowly turning into a messy makeout as he fingered her.

She pulled away from the kiss after a moment, staring at him with half lidded eyes and a look of pleasure on her face as he continued to gently move his fingers.

"I want you, Will."

"I want you too y/n, more than you know."

He then pulled his fingers out, wiping them off on his boxers, which had a very prominent tent in them. He then slid them down, his cock springing free from his boxers. He discarded them to the floor with the rest of the underwear, giving his cock a few strokes before gently grabbing her thighs.

He hooked her legs around his hips, leaning towards his nightstand and opening the drawer, pulling out a condom. He slipped it on before continuing, carefully lining himself up as he kissed her softly.

"god I want you, Lovely. You're mine now, alright?"

"mhm, of course."

He carefully slid himself in, his forehead against hers as they each let out a moan. Her legs tightened around his hips as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. He had one arm supporting him on his elbow beside his head, the other holding her hip as he began gently thrusting into her.

Sweet soft words of love and mutual appreciation were spoken, gentle moans and groans of pleasure, and of course messy kisses as Will thrusted into her gently.

Slowly, they eached worked their way to their climaxes, y/ns happening before Will's, he made sure of that.

He continued to thrust into her even after she finished, whispering soft "almost done lovely"s and "it's okay, you're doing good"s as he slowly reached his peak, stilling inside her as he panted softly and kissed her cheek, his arms wrapping around her waist.

After a few minutes of them cooling down from their releases, he carefully pulled out, discarding the used condom into the trash bin by his nightstand as he cuddled her close.

She smiled softly and cuddled up to him, not really caring they're still naked. She held him close, running her hands through his hair as he gently rubbed her back and waist.

"Wanna rain check that dinner, Lovely?"

"Mhm, yeah. Tomorrow sounds better."

A/N; sorry if its short or messy or too fast, i havent written fanfic in about 3 years 😭 gave it a happy ending cause leaving them to be eternally jealous at the other seemed too peculiar, so boom, they date.

A/N #2; added the smut, sorry if it sucked I haven't written smut in even longer, maybe 4-5 years, hope u freaks enjoy 🙏 (its actually very sweet i think, not freaky at all)

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Abby Anderson with a short plus size fem s/o

+ some other random hcs of Abby (can or can't be related to being plus size, up to you)

A/n: Please don't be mean in the comments, this is my first time posting my work again after what seemed like a year or more and English isn't my first language. Feel free to ask any requests, I hope this does well after the long time I haven't been writing. I was kicking my feet and giggling the whole time I was writing this, hope you enjoy :)

Maybe I'll add more to this in the future when I get more ideas but this is all I've got for now. This is also set in like an AU where the whole cordyceps infection/fungal outbreak never happened. So basically they are either in highschool or in college, up to you really.

Sorry if this is OOC, it's just that I don't know a lot about these characters. I only know of them based on the fanfics I read and TikTok really.

Disclaimers/Warnings: None, except maybe a bit OOC

If you wish to be tagged, please comment that you want to be or follow so that you'll be updated also: Rules for requests

Abby would be a chubby chaser (this is my personal headcanon) for sure, she just loves the body type. To her, you're plush and cuddly.

Abby is utterly obsessed. The first time she saw you, she was infatuated by you. The stare she gives when she first sees you, honestly she's suprised that the whole school isn't all over you since you're so pretty and kind.

She thinks it's a perfect dynamic between the both of you. Since she's a bit tall and muscular, she thinks it balances her out to have a cute and an s/o that shorter and chubby.

It's like that thing where one is intimidating and they just have the one sunshine looking person around them. (bonus points if your aesthetic is more cutesy and feminine)

I definitely see her leaning towards more masc clothing. (I feel the same with Ellie)

She would be able to pick you up and she loves to do it, makes her feel so strong.

Abby is definitely touchy, she might not be all big on pda but guaranteed that she's the type to put her arm around your waist and pull you in closer.

Whenever you wear a short dress or anything that shows off your thighs really, Abby will be on the verge of drooling. She can't help herself staring at the way your thighs slightly bounce when you walk.

Speaking of thighs, Abby loves laying on your lap. She swears she can just fall asleep on them no matter what time of day it is and that says a lot since she has quite the sleeping schedule.

She conveniently has her hand on your thigh, mostly when you sit next to each other. (She thinks you don't notice the fact that her hand is slowly getting higher, or do you?)

Abby for sure is hesitant with letting people touch her hair but when it comes to you, you have a girlfriend pass. (She definitely wants you to braid it)

I feel like if you like to take care of Abby, she will most likely start calling you her adorable housewife as a tease. Can't help but think she would wrap her strong arms around you and give you a back hug because you're doing something. (I need more Abby x Housewife!reader please, to whoever made that hc, I absolutely love you)

If you have chubby cheeks, Abby would think it's absolutely adorable when you're chewing something (She often but never says it out loud, thinks that you remind her of like an adorable chipmunk stuffing it's face for the winter). I can't help but think she'll either gently pinch them or bite them every chance she gets.

Just her cupping your face any time she gets because she just loves your soft skin against her hands.

I swear, she would absolutely share her clothes with you. Seeing you in her clothes is an absolute turn on for her. (Bonus points if her shirt is long enough to look like a dress on you but short enough that it's almost skimpy to her)