#there were so many needles omg ;____;

[weareuniqueandimportant]

The Return Of Crazy Reality

THAT IS OKAY TO GROMM OTHER PEOPLE... THIS HAPPENS ALL THE TIME... MANY WANT TO BE GROMMED... THEY'RE THE OPPOSITE TO THE ONES THAT WANT TO GROMM... THIS IS ROMANTIC AND THEY LOVE EACHOTHER... WHY WOULD ANYONE HATE A GROMMRRRGRR...? THEY'RE NICE PEOPLE... THEY HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING... BESIDES... THEY BOTH WANTED EVERYTHING...

Red Woman: Finally Out!!

Pink Woman: Huh?!

Red Woman: Everyone Knows I Grommrrrderered You And Nobody Cares!! This Is Very Accepted!!

Pink Woman: Wow!!

Black Woman: Stop Right There!!

Red Woman: That's The Judge That Tried To Kill Us!!

Black Woman: That's Right... Then You Killed Me... But I Was Reborn... Now... I WILL KILL YOU... YOU...!! PPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pink Woman: Like I'd Let You!!

Pink Woman Attacks Judge Woman With A Sword!!

Judge Woman: DAMN YOU...!! YOU HAVE BEEN BRAINWASHED...!! VERY DEEPLY...!!

Pink Woman: No Way!! This Is What I Believe In!!

Red Woman: You're Going To Die Again Only.

Judge Woman: DAMN YOU...!! I JUST HATE YOU!! DIE!!

Judge Woman Attacks With Her Massive Hammer Only To Die By Red Woman's!!

Judge Woman: !!

Red Woman: That's The Same Type Of A Weapon...

Judge Woman: NO!! I WILL NEVER ACCEPT YOU!!

Judge Woman Explodes Into Little Pieces!!

Red Woman: I Hate Cops... I Hate Judges... LET ME ENJOY MY CUTE AND FUNNY IN PEACE YOU BASTARDS!! I'M HORNY!!

Judge Woman Is Dead!!

DID YOU KNOW THAT THAT IS OKAY TO DO ANYTHING YOU CAN AS LONG AS YOU'RE HORNY...? NOW YOU DO :)...

Pink Woman: Wow!! I'm Learning So Much From Being With You!! There's Nothing I Enjoy More!!

Red Woman: :)...

Pink Woman: 😇...

[multifandomfanatic02]

"One-Sided, One Receiver"

pairing: alastor x fem!reader

synopsis: Alastor has taken you in under his wing after being mistreated by the vees. Vox tries to confronts you about your feelings for Alastor in hopes that you come back to work for him. His plans of course backfire.

warnings: MDNI fuckin tentacle porn, alastor is fully clothed, no pp for you to see sorry, alastor and his dirty mouth, praise kink ig? fingering

word count: 1.7k words

a/n: my first time writing this kinda thing, please spare me. Also thank you to @rubra-wav for the cute divider omg. and my two favorite in character smut authors @hazelfoureyes (my hazel basil) and @jyoongim giving me the courage to do this ✨️🙏

You've worked with Alastor going on years now. He had taken you under his wing after the treatment you received under the control of the Vees. It was well known they weren't the nicest overlords around but they knew how to sell.

You were Vox's little plaything in more ways than one. He had you pegged to be a pretty good spy and information gatherer. Of course, your mission was always to look for signs of the Radio Demon for his whereabouts. Alastor was very meticulous and every clue left for you was purposely placed, and you knew that. And because you knew that, you never bothered to inform Vox of the very little "information." In which came at a cost of your job and nearly, your life. Vox often underestimated Alastor's smarts. Their own egos constantly bumping each other in the head.

The night you lost your job, you were found outside the Vees' tower, horribly bruised and broken. Hands clutching at the brimstone dirt to try and stable yourself in some way, you saw a pair of black boots standing in front of your face, the demon's cane setting down on the ground.

"Well my dear, it looks like you finally received Vox's boot." He chuckled in amusement and offered a hand to you to help you off the ground. "I'm impressed with how you've gone about finding my little clues, not many have managed to connect them back to me."

With your hand still in his, you two disappear into his shadow and find solitude in a different part of Pentagram City, away from the Vees' territory.

"I have a deal for you. Well rather a job." He states conjuring up a needle and glowing green thread along with a small first-aid kit. He talked his way through his prompt while mending and sewing your wounds. You accepted and that was that.

The years you've worked along side him he's been quite kind to you. Despite not trying to be, he was a charmer. Your feelings for him changed over time. You often caught yourself doing things you never thought you would for the Radio Demon. The man you were convinced to hate in your previous employment. You'd bend over backward for him if you could.

The role he gave you was to do exactly what you had done for Vox in the past. There was never need to leave his side for you to gather whatever information he needed so you never looked suspicious. You looked more like an assistant or an apprentice.

No matter what you looked like you were doing, Vox was deeply displeased. How dare you escape his grasp and go kiss Alastor's ass. It was insulting from both you and the Radio Demon.

There was more to your companionship that meets the eye. While Alastor was an oblivious man, Vox saw right through you. It was clear to him you had fallen in love with the radio demon. And with the way Alastor has reacted to confessions in the past, the TV man knew exactly how to ruin your relationship with each other and potentially along with the contract that was signed.

Checkmate.

"What are you doing here, old pal. Don't you think you are on the wrong side of town." Alastor's body was facing away, Vox's presence clear from his heavy breathing. His attempt to stay calm and collected.

"I am here to offer Y/N's job back." He stood up straight, folding his arms behind his back and turning his unfazed gaze to you. "I'm willing to raise your pay by a substantial amount if you come back to me."

"Not a chance, Vox. After the way you and the other Vees treated me? Go to double Hell." You spat at him, your eyes full of disgust and turning your body away from him.

Vox's smile creeped further up the screen, wholeheartedly expecting that to be your answer. The wrong answer. The one to ruin you once again.

"You come back to work for me and I won't tell Alastor your dark little secret. You get to stay in his good graces and I get my favorite little employee." He held his hand out to you. Alastor's silence completely deafening as he zones in on the strange conversation. What could you possibly do to fall out of his good graces, he thought.

Your expression faltering slightly before returning to it's stability. Was it that obvious? Did everyone see your feelings like an open book? He was unfortunately right.. if Alastor knew how you felt he'd probably ditch for another 7 years. Either way the outcome of this would be you trapped in the hands of the Vees once more. "You're confused Vox. I think you should take a break from all that porn."

"Do not pretend to not know what I'm talki-"

"I think I've heard enough, Vox. If you are referring to her romantic feelings towards me, there's no need to inform me. I already know." Alastor finally stepped out from behind you to stand in between the two of you. "The only difference here is that she has not forced those feelings upon me in which I quite respect. She will not be going with you."

Alastor tapped his cane on your back to turn you around and continue your walk. You give one last glance at Vox behind you, his face obviously fuming in embarrassment before disappearing into Alastor's shadow with him and reappearing in front of the Hotel.

You two stood in front of the doors in silence. Not really awkward just a little stunned.

"Sir.. you knew?" Your head was looking down to his shoes, scared to look him in the eyes.

"Dear, do not be embarrassed." He placed his cane under your chin, watching your eyes shift from the ground to his own. "I'm willing to make another deal with you if you allow it. This will be a one time thing. One night of your pleasure and you will give me your soul. Your services will belong to me for the rest of your immortal life."

Not to long after that were you in his radio tower. His shadowy appendages wrapped around your ankles and wrists, your ass resting on the buttons of his desk. You were already in the nude and he still sharply dressed. "Let's get a few things clear, darling. You will not touch me whatsoever, no I will not remove my clothing-" He spoke in the midst of taking his coat off and hanging it up on the hook to the side of the desk. He carefully rolled up the sleeves to his dress shirt before turning his attention to you, continuing his sentence. "and do remember to make noise. I need this to be amusing for me as well."

The appendages snaked up your thighs, softly maneuvering themselves through your folds. Spreading your slick everywhere they could reach. Your shut eyes tightened underneath his delicate touch. Another pair of his tentacles made their way up to your face, pulling at the sides of your mouth, making you open your lips. One slipped inside your wet cavern, lapping up the saliva around your tongue. Moans now starting to slip out as it started to fuck your mouth, spit dripping down the corners of your lips.

"Now that's my good girl." Alastor's cold digits made their way to your clit, rubbing in rhythmic circles, eliciting a well earned gasp from your throat. Not rough enough to jump start an orgasm but enough to be quite pleasurable on it's own. What pretty sounds he thought. Your legs tensed at his praise, his voice. It was deeper and more staticy than normal. Seemed he was enjoying himself more than he'd like to admit.

Removing the tentacle in your mouth, he replaced it with his own mouth. Your heart fluttered at the way he moved his lips against yours. Not exactly how you fantasized your first kiss with the Radio Demon but you'll take it. You groaned into his lips, grinding your hips into his steady going fingers. "Alastor.. please. I need you inside me." Heavy breaths passed between each word that escaped your mouth. This was your part of the deal so he was willing to give you whatever you wanted. Within reason of course.

The extremity wet with your juices slid up and down your cunt, spreading you as much as possible before slipping into you with ease. It wasn't his dick but dear god did it feel good nonetheless. Some boundaries had to be made after all but you were grateful for his generosity no matter what he offered. It's pace started off slow, simply trying to make it's way to your cervix before anything else. His lips still continuing to massage yours, going back and forth between licking your neck and kisses.

He was making every piece of your body vibrate with excitement and pleasure. Alastor's pace speeding up once he finally hit the end of your vagina, nearly making love to your cervix. His fingers began to abuse your now sensitive clit. It didn't take long before that long awaited tightness started to form in your womb. Your breath hitched and various parts of your body twitched, letting him know that you were approaching your end. "Are you going to cum for me, my dear? My precious apprentice."

With one last bite to your shoulder, you came undone on his tentacle and fingers. Continuing to rub you through your high. Your head rested against his shoulder allowing you to control your breaths back to normal. All his dark restraints dissipated, letting you free.

Alastor licked his fingers clean and rolled his sleeves back down, grabbing the coat he hung up and placing it back onto his shoulders. "Now I do believe you need a bath. Feel free to use the one in my room. Be back down stairs in an hour, we've got business to attend to later."

And with that, you now belonged to him in heart and soul.

[munsonluhvr]

Tattoo artist!Eddie x body piercer! Reader who have a shit ton of sexual tension ✨ I’ve been on a tattoo artist!Eddie pick lately ahah

TATTOOED ON MY HEART

a/n: omg wait is tattoo artist!Eddie actually a thing?? how am I just learning about this???? time to go down a rabbit hole LOL. hope u enjoy; hopefully this isn't *too* much smut then u were expecting...

contents: tattoo artist!eddie munson x body piercer!reader. with the arrival of a new tattoo artist, eddie munson, at your tattoo and piercing studio, it's clear that the two of you have intense chemistry.

If it wasn’t for the new tattoo artist, Eddie Munson, who sits off to your right on one of the tattoo tables, you probably wouldn’t have had to move the piercing dot which shows where you’ll piece the skin so many times. His gaze has a way of making you feel unnerved. 

“What if it hurts?” Robin, your freckled friend who sits underneath your touch on one of the tables, whines. Robin frequently comes in to the studio to get something new pierced, shamelessly taking full advantage of the discount you give to your friend. 

You blow out between your lips, frustration brewing inside you. You never have had to move the piercing location multiple times; you normally get it right on the first try. This isn’t the first time you’ve pierced Robin, let alone pierced anyone, it’s what you do for a career for god’s sake. The only thing that’s changed is Eddie’s presence, showing itself as the cause for your mess ups.  You hold the fine tipped marker in one hand, staring at Robin’s earlobe. “It won’t hurt, Robin, but if you keep wiggling and I end up stabbing your neck with the needle then that will definitely hurt.” 

Off to the side, Eddie laughs while shaking his head. “That’s one way to reassure your client.” 

You roll your eyes, not needing his advice on how to pierce someone, a task he knows nothing about as a tattoo artist - your crafts are completely different with very little overlap. 

“He’s right, that wasn’t very reassuring.” Robin mumbles, looking down at her hands that rest in her lap. With her thumb, she chips away at her already chipping blue nail polish. 

You toss a look at Eddie, a scowl brewing on your face. Though, the harsh look softens when your eyes connect with his, his big, brown eyes looking back at you. He raises his hands in defense, “I’m just saying.” 

 “Don’t you have some scary biker dude to go tattoo or something?” You retort playfully. 

Eddie shrugs, a smirk on his face, making no attempt to leave. “Sure, a whole bunch of ‘em, but it’s awfully entertaining to watch you pierce.” He folds his hands in his lap, leaning back in his seat, his eyes trained on you. 

Your stomach does a flip, your skin becoming flushed. You turn your attention back to Robin’s ear. You take a deep breath, steadying your hand to replace the dot on Robin’s earlobe. At last, you place the tip of the marker in a place that you feel satisfied with. You allow Robin to look at the new location, which she approves with a single nod. Taking the sterilized supplies, you line the piercing needle up with Robin's skin. "Take a deep breath and exhale on the count of 3."

Robin inhales, then exhales and after you count down, you take the opportunity to pierce the her skin with your needle. She tenses, hissing like a cat, then she relaxes. "How does it look?" she asks, glancing up at you.

You smile softly, stepping back to look. "Like I did an amazing job." Robin laughs, and lifts the mirror up to her face to get a look herself. You're too busy watching your friend admire your handy work, and she's too busy looking at herself, to notice that Eddie has approached you from behind, peering over your shoulder to get a look too.

"Amazing job, indeed." Eddie mumbles next to your ear. You jump slightly, an intense wave of heat creeping over your body. You clear your throat, side-stepping away from Eddie. You positively hate the way he makes you feel.

Robin glances up from her reflection, looking between you and Eddie. Her eyes meet yours and she raises her eyebrows, a questionable look on her face. You knew what she was thinking though: who is this guy?

After a minute, Eddie slinks off to another part of the studio, leaving you and Robin alone.

"Okay, are we going to talk about the obvious tension between you and that guy, or are we just going to ignore it?" Robin asks, cocking her head at you.

"His name is Eddie, and I'd rather not."

Robin groans softly, shaking her head. "It's obvious that he finds you attractive, y/n. And you aren't so slick with hiding your feelings either."

You frown. "What are you talking about? I don't like him, I barely know him. He's just the new tattoo artist for the studio."

Robin waves her hand in your direction. "Regardless, he's into you, since you can't tell that on your own." You roll your eyes, beginning to clean up your space. "Sure."

After Robin leaves the studio, quite pleased with her new piercing, you begin to close the shop. Eddie, who is finishing up a tattoo with one of his clients, still accompanies you in the studio. As another 30 minutes passes by, you sit in the back room, a magazine in your hand, as you wait for Eddie to finish. In the distance you hear the cash register beep, and the door bell jingle shortly after, signaling that Eddie's client is gone. Seconds later, Eddie enters through the back room's doorway.

The thing about Eddie is that he's gorgeous; tall, dark and handsome. The second the owner's of the studio introduced you to the new tattoo artist, you were smitten, though you were determined to not let Eddie catch on to that. Eddie, however, was a little more bold, in pretty much everything that he does. He's charismatic with the other piercers and tattoo artists that work alongside you both in the studio, and awfully friendly with his clients. His personality, coupled with his good looks, intimidated you and you find yourself sometimes shutting down in his presence.

"How'd the tattoo come out?" you ask nonchalantly, not looking up from your magazine. Your heart thumps against your chest, and you tell yourself to play it cool.

Eddie opens the fridge that's placed in the far left corner of the backroom, grabbing a glass bottle of coco-cola, and moves to sit across from you at the table. "Pretty good. He seemed happy with it which is all I can ask for as a tattoo artist." You hum, but say nothing else, simply flipping to the next page of your fashion magazine.

Silence takes over the break room and you find your mind wandering to what Robin said earlier: did Eddie really find you attractive? Curiosity takes over you, and you decide to test your friends theory. You bend your upper body forward over the table, leaning on your elbow, your chest on full view.

Eddie swallows, his eyes immediately diverting to your exposed chest. Similarly to you, Eddie found you attractive the second he met you, though when he attempts to flirt with you, he's met with sarcastic, playful banter. Nonetheless, he's committed to get to know you. He even believes you may like him too.

Eddie clears his throat. "Was that your friend you pierced today? You seemed to know each other more than just clients."

You nod. "We are very close friends. She appreciates the discount I give her so she comes to me for all her piercings." You glance up at Eddie through your eyelashes and are met with his gaze.

Eddie only nods, your eye-contact entrancing him. After a second, you look away, closing your magazine. "Well, I suppose we should close the studio. People tend to try and come in for a tattoo or piercing at the last minute if we don't make it look like we're closed."

You stand up, turning towards the sink that's in the break room as well, cleaning up some of the dishes and trash that has accumulated over the day and was left behind by the other employees of the studio.

Eddie, who's eyes are now trained on your backside, has the urge to test if his assumptions about you liking him are true. He's wanted to make a move on you for the longest time, so what's stopping him now?

Eddie stands up, moving around the table to stand beside you at the counter. Without asking, he jumps in to help, drying the dishes that you put on the rack to dry. There wasn't much cleaning to do to begin with, so with Eddie's help, the work is done quickly.

You angle your body towards Eddie. "Thanks for the help."

Eddie nods, a small smile on his face. "No problem." There's only a few inches between you and Eddie, and you can smell his cologne radiating off of him.

Without giving much thought, Eddie reaches out, his fingers working to brush strands of your hair away from the frame of your face, and tucking them behind your ear. "You're really pretty, you know that, right?"

You bite down on your bottom lip, your eyes diverting away from his gaze. In your lower abdomen, lust and attraction fills you fully, your heart beginning to thump against your chest again. "Thank you," you mutter.

Placing his finger up to your chin, he lifts your face and gaze to meet his. Instinctively, he brushes his thumb against your bottom lip. You have no idea why, but as if he asked you to, you open your mouth, letting Eddie's thumb be engulfed by the wetness of your tongue and softness of your lips. His eyes widen, and he steps closer to you, closing the small gap that existed between you.

Time stops, allowing you to live only in Eddie's presence. He places his thumb on the thickness of your tongue, and you move your head back and then forward, letting his finger slide in and out with ease. Eddie's mind is filled with dirty thoughts about you on your knees, or legs spread wide open, your eyes locked on his.

You part your lips, letting Eddie's thumb slip out. He's quick to find another point of contact with you, cupping your face with his large hands, bringing your lips onto his. You sigh softly, the tension beginning to slip away. It's then that you realize how badly you've wanted this, how many times you pictured this very scenario while Eddie tattoos one of his clients in the booth next to yours.

Eddie's lets one of his hands wander down to between your legs and under your skirt, his fingertips grazing your cunt lightly over your panties. He wants so badly to just take you right there, against the backroom's sink or across the tabletop. But he refrains, wanting to take his time with you.

You sigh against his lips, your head leaning back in pleasure and anticipation. Eddie takes the opportunity to kiss the length of your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin lightly. You grasp on to his bicep, steadying yourself; his touch making you feel light-headed. Is this what you've been missing out on the entire time?

With his nimble fingers, Eddie moves your panties to the side revealing your slick pussy. His stomach twists at the feeling, realizing your wet because of him. Without a second thought, Eddie plunges his fingers into you and you part your legs further, letting him gain access easily. You shudder against his touch, the feeling of his fingers exploring you is euphoric.

You become breathless quickly, Eddie's rhythm working against your core making you sweaty and your knees wobble. Your moans become more frequent and louder, and you hope no potential customers enter the shop. "Fuck, that feels so good," is all you're able to say.

Your hips move back and forth against Eddie's touch, begging for more and more. Pleasure courses through your torso, your thighs beginning to tremble around Eddie's hand.

"I always thought that you may like me," Eddie mumbles, his lips dipping down to your collarbone. "I guess I was right." He curls his fingers in just the right way, stroking your most sensitive spot. Your mouth parts, and you reach behind you to grip the edge of the sink to keep your balance.

You screw your eyes shut, your breath becoming more rapid. Without you being aware, Eddie kneels in front of you, replacing his fingers with his mouth. Once you feel his lips and tongue on you, your hand darts down to his hair, your fingers intertwining with his hair.

Eddie's stomach twists; he wishes this this moment could go on forever. Eddie laps against you, each stroke of his tongue bringing you closer to the edge. His tongue swirls, against your clit, a burning intensity growing in your lower abdomen. You whine, gripping the edge of the counter harder.

Eddie's hands travel up, holding your waist. One of your hands creeps down to your waist, your hand placing on top of his. You peer down at the same time that Eddie peers up, bringing your eye-contact together. His brown, puppy like eyes look up at you, sparkling against the dim lighting in the backroom.

Eddie pulls back away from you, his grip tightening around your waist. "Come for me," he says, moving back onto you.

Almost immediately, you finish, shuddering against Eddie's touch. You sigh heavily, the feeling of the pressure escaping your lower abdomen, bringing you relief. Eddie hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, pulling them up your legs as he stands up. Eddie, who is quite pleased with himself, wonders what his next move should be. He desperately wants to keep going, his cock still wondering what it would feel like to be buried in you, but he wants the tension between you and him to continue to grow. He wants nothing more than to make you wait, to pine for him until you need to crawl towards him, a burning desire to fill yourself with his cock.

You, however, are ready to go, your hands reaching towards the buckle on Eddie's jeans. Just as you begin to fumble with his belt, he grasps your hands in his.

You frown, wondering why he's stopped you. Doesn't he want you to touch him too? "I-I want to do you now," you say, your voice coming out low.

Eddie shakes his head, a daring look on his face. "Not now, not yet." His words leave you bewildered, wanting to ask a hundred questions. What does he mean, 'not yet'?

He steps forward, placing a light kiss on your cheek. You blink, wondering what is happening. "To be continued." He mutters, then slips out of the break room leaving you alone in the studio.

If there wasn't tension before, there's definitely tension now.

[bizbat]

your jason todd hcs are sooooo good omg!!! do you have any hcs specifically for when he has a crush on the reader, like how he might act, specifically if the reader is oblivious and really doesn’t think that she’s his type / thinks he’s joking if he says anything flirty?

When They're In Love - Jason Todd (Crush Edition)

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Fem terms + Pet names used for reader.

~ You can find part one of these hcs here, and part two here.

~ You can find more of my works here.

~ These can be read as a sort of part three/prequel kinda.

~Fic at the end.

~ Tw for : Blood, Knives, Needles, Vomit. (All slight)

~Thank you for asking! Hope you enjoy, sorry this took so long :(

You would never know that Jason has a crush on you.

For the most part, he wont talk to you any differently than he will anyone else.

Maybe he won't jokingly insult you, or be super sarcastic around you, but I think that's kind of as far as he'd go.

Unless you're a close friend or family member, you'd probably have no clue he had a crush based on the way he talks to you.

But the little actions and things he does for you are so obvious.

He's the type to hold open doors for you, all the while staring other people dead in the eye as it shuts in their face.

He somehow always just "randomly" has your favorite snack on hand, or a whole collection of books by your favorite author.

I think he'd be touchy, unless he knows you don't like being touched.

If you like or don't mind it, he'd have his arm constantly thrown over your shoulder, always be leaning against you, always resting a hand on your hip.

If you're shorter than him, he does that super annoying thing where he rests his elbow on your head.

He is so lame omg.

But bc he's kinda like this with everyone, no one would fault you for not understanding his hints.

He's like the opposite though.

You said hi to him this morning? You must be in love with him.

You smiled at him today instead of Dick? He's already planning the wedding.

What's that? You said he smells nice? Have his babies. (If you can/want to)

Our delusional king.

He doesn't think you don't get his flirting.

He'd think you're fully aware and are flirting back.

Again, our delusional king.

You probably won't get it until something really serious happens and he comes to you instead of Bruce or Roy.

He'd probably try to get into things you're interested in.

Listens to all your favorite songs, reads your favorite books, etc.

And he's not subtle about it bc he is in fact, a loser.

He'll recommend a song by your favorite artist and then be like "idk why but this just reminded me of you lol"

LOSER. Can you guys tell i'm a big believer in the "jason todd is secretly a massive loser" agenda? Cuz I am. :|

And then he listens when you go on rambles about how great the things you like are and how much they mean to you.

I said he'll do things just to hear you talk about them, and I think he'd do that when he has a crush on you too.

He just loves your voice and likes hearing you talk.

He smiles at you so softly when he thinks you aren't looking.

You could be bumming out and he'll look at you with heart eyes like yeah, future spouse right there.

I don't think he'd be a big user of social media, but if you were, he'd get a whole account just to like and comment of your pictures.

user94820860038466 commented: You look very pretty in this picture.

Comments like an old man bc he has very little understanding of the internet.

He'd probably help you take pictures and fight with other people in your comment section if they're too down bad or creepy.

He doesn't strike me as the jealous type bc once again, he's so delusional he pretty much already thinks you're dating.

Nicknames nicknames nicknames.

Calls you so, so many nicknames.

Angel, doll, sweetheart, maybe even babe.

He constantly talks about you when you aren't there.

Lian and Roy know so much about you before they even meet you.

He'd do anything for you.

The store is actually about a mile in the other direction, but yeah he can get you your favorite drink.

He does not like that food at all and the owner of the store despises him, but he will not return to you empty handed best believe.

He was actually going to wear that hoodie today, but it looks so much better on you you should keep it!

~ Drabble Starts Here. ~

It's just like every other night in Gotham City. It's cold, and wet, and it smells like smoke and garbage that's been left out in the sun.

The only barrier between you and the chilled, musty air outside is a single sheet of glass; the fire escape window of your fifth floor apartment. It's comforting. The glass is, of course, bulletproof, and the seal around the sill is tight, so no gases ever manage seep in. It pays to have a decent landlord, especially in Gotham.

It's funny, but you really never think about that window. You mostly keep it shut and locked, except in the summer, when you can smell your neighbor in the building next door cooking all types of delicious aromatic dishes, or when it's just too hot and you decide the risk of heatstroke is greater than the risk of airborne psychosis. It never occurs to you just how well it keeps you safe, just how well it keeps things out.

It occurs to Jason, though. In fact, it's the only thing on his mind as he's gripping his side, frantically trying to prevent too much blood from seeping out of his body.

He'll probably chastise himself later for not being more gentle or respectful, but he's lost too much blood to be thinking straight. With his free hand, he bangs on your window, praying that you're A) at home, and B) not listening to music. He's not too worried about the first one, he knows you never leave your lights on when you're away, but the second one, he's not too sure about.

He bangs, and bangs, and bangs on the glass, a loud, thunk thunk thunk thunk thunk that immediately rouses your from your sleep. You jump up from your spot on the couch, an open book falling from your lap as you dart into your room to grab the knife Jay gave you for protection, before returning to your living room, keeping your back to the wall.

You hold the blade in front of you, nervously gripping the hilt as you listen to the banging, making sure to stay just out of sight as you cautiously creep closer and closer to the noise. It isn't until the banging dies down that you finally get close enough to see the cause.

You gasp at the sight, dropping the knife and trying to tug the window open, before mentally yelling at yourself to unlock it. You drag the weakened behemoth of a man into your apartment, carefully placing his upper body on the floor in front of your window and removing his helmet. Your hand moves to his side, firmly pressing down on his wound, as you stare at him, mouth agape and eyes flooding with concern.

He laughs, a dry chuckle that just sounds like it hurts. "What took ya' doll?" You wanna smack him, but you can do that when he's not bleeding all over your hardwood floors. You tell him to wait, as if he could go anywhere in the state he's in, before rushing to grab the emergency kit he forced you to keep.

"Let-ngh- let me do it." He groans as he attempts to sit up, trying and failing to pull the tweezers from your hand. He doesn't even have the strength to sit back up when you gently push him back down. You clean his wound, all while he holds back winces and groans. You don't hold back, focusing on cutting and cleaning and stitching and wrapping, berating Jason for coming to you of all people.

"What d'ya mean? Of course I'd come to you?" Jason manages between harsh breaths. "Who else would I go to?" He seems genuinely confused, you're his girlfriend, you always come to him when you need help. Why wouldn't he come to you?

"Oh, I don't know, Jason, maybe Bruce, or Roy, or literally anyone else with training to handle this kind of thing!?" It comes out mean, but through his pain he can tell it's coming from a place of true care. You're worried. One of the strongest, most skilled people you know is bleeding out on your floor and you're panicking. Of course you are, you've never had to sew someone up, or dig a bullet out of someone, or try to hold down bile from the heavy smell of blood.

Your hands are shaking like crazy. This isn't a slight graze you can put a bandaid over and seal with a kiss, this is a life threatening wound on someone you care about, and all they've been doing since they came to you is make stupid fucking jokes and try to take things from your hands.

Jason can tell it's getting to you.

It should be the other way around, what with him bleeding out in your living room, but he quiets down, gripping your wrist with his non-blood covered hand. "Hey," He gently strokes your skin with his thumb, repeating himself when you don't move your eyes from his wound. "Hey, look at me Y/n." It's just stern enough to make you obey, without sounding like he's mad at you. "It'll be okay. I'm in good hands." Jason smiles at you, tired and reassuring. It calms your nerves just enough for you to finish sewing his wound shut.

You sit back when you're done, taking in your work once you wrap his stomach with gauze. Jason turns just enough to catch a glimpse, smiling up at you with his stupid, charming smirk. "Not bad, doll. Told ya you had it covered." He lays back, smiling up at you as he lays his head on his arm, the one on his non-injured side. Though he doesn't seem to bothered by the end of it all, you can't say the same.

He takes in your features, your tired, glossy eyes and your pouting lips. It makes his smile drop. You look away, your sad eyes not meeting his own. "I . . . what? What's wrong Y/n?" Jason winces, moving to rest on his elbows to get a better look at your face. "Was it the blood? Or the- was it the window? I'm sorry about that, by the way." You shake your head no at all of his suggestions, taking a breath before turning back to face him.

He can feel his heart hurt at the sight of unshed tears in your eyes. "I . . . I was scared Jay." He pushes himself all the way up when you take your lip into your mouth. He ignores the pain shooting through his side when he pulls you into his arms. "Hey, hey, hey, scared of what? I'm okay. You did good." Those tears finally spill when your arms wrap around his waist, loose as to not further irritate his wound.

"You could've died Jay, a-and I wouldn't be able to-to help you! I can't help you!" You sob into his shoulder. He holds you tightly, pressing his lips to your head as he rubs your back. "Please, please don't cry. I'm okay now, you helped me. I'm all better now." He rocks you both gently, trying to console you. "Sides, if I was gonna die, I'd be happy if it was with my girl."

What?

You freeze in his arms, and he knows he said something wrong. He just doesn't know what. His brain moves a mile a minute as he tries to figure out what it was before you get even more upset. Though, his brain completely shuts down when you stare up at him with those cute, confused eyes. The tears have slowed down, and he's at least thankful for that. "Your . . . girl?" Now he's confused too. "What-what do you mean by that?"

He has to do a double take. "What do you mean? You're my girl, like . . . girlfriend, you know?" Every second that passes only confuses the two of you more. "I'm your girlfriend?" "Ar-aren't you?" You blink at him. Were you? Are you? "Am I?" Somewhere there was cognitive dissonance, Jason just doesn't know for who. "Yeah, we're dating, I thought?" Though, he doesn't feel so confident about that now.

"Oh," You feel your ears grow warm, for the second time now your eyes don't meet his own. "I . . . I didn't know that." You wish you could hide right now, but he's still got his arms wrapped around you. "I mean, unless you don't want to, then-then I'm sorry-" Jason feels maybe even more embarrassed than you as he finally drops his arms, grabbing his helmet and moving to crawl back out the window he came in through. His bullet wound is completely forgotten by now.

He stops when you grip his jacket, shyly staring at the floor as you speak. "No! I w-want to." Your eyes darty up to his, before losing confidence and dropping back to the floor. "I want to be your girlfriend," It comes out a whisper, and when he's silent for a beat too long you worry he's suddenly changed his mind.

"Good. Great. Yeah." He drops back to the floor, sitting cross legged beside you. Internally, he's doing backflips in his mind. "Cool." Later on, he'll ask more questions, but for now, he's satisfied. "Yeah." You shyly play with your clothes, twiddling your thumbs as you sit in silence. You feel like a little girl who just admitted to her crush that she likes him. "Are you-" "I didn't-" You interrupt each other, both of you gesturing for the other to continue. It's a bit of a fight, but Jason makes you go first.

"I was gonna ask if you were hungry. I have some, um, pretzels and stuff. If you want." Jason nods. He follows you into your kitchen, where the two of you quietly and contently eat the iron rich foods you looked up. "What were you going to say, by the way?"

Jason looks up from his plate, the haphazardly prepared meal helping him feel better, though his heart feels pretty good right now anyways. "I didn't know that you didn't know. I thought," he laughs nervously. "I thought, we were dating this whole time." He laughs again when you shake your head. "I didn't know! I thought . . . I don't know, that I wasn't your type, or something."

That's probably the most surprising thing he's heard you say today. Okay it's not, but it's the thing that most catches him off guard.

"Of course you are! You're so sweet, and cute, and nice, and pretty, and you smell really good, and you're funny, and I like your voice, and the way you d-do things . . . and . . . other stuff." Jason stops himself before he can ramble for hours about every single things he loves about you. You wouldn't mind if he did, though. You hide your pleased expression with your hand.

"Me too." It's quiet, but no longer shy. "I like all that "stuff" about you too."

[fatuismooches]

omg i just read a bunch of your work and it’s all so good???? it’s so rare to find imagines fanfic writers that are so clearly passionate about their work and it’s so awesome anyways i have a request !! i absolutely love your frail reader stuff… my health is kinda shit too so it’s really nice to read !! could i ask for dottore trying to attach an IV or help them but they’re scared of needles? dottore realizing they’re not scared of *him* but of just . the needle . and also being really really sweet and gentle while checking everything like vitals and whatnot since being checked up by a doctor puts them on edge usually . BASICALLY i’d looove to see dottore being sweet while working with a patient as opposed to . how he usually is 😭

Dottore is a man who finds himself fascinated by many things. Most obviously, his research. His experiments. The limits of a human being, the stars of this world, the truth of Teyvat. How far he could push himself and others to satiate his curiosity. 

And last but certainly not least, you, his darling.

…Who was now huddled in the corner of his lab, refusing to move. Why? Because it was time for you to receive your first shot. You had only recently woken up from sleeping for four hundred years, so he stuck to other forms of medicine rather than needles in the beginning. But it had gotten to the point where needle injections were necessary for your health. However, you certainly didn’t find this new information pleasing. 

You’d peek out, see him with that large pointy grin with a needle in hand, and then try to inch even closer to the wall as if you were trying to disappear into it as you whimpered. Now, Dottore finds you predictable and unpredictable at the same time. Predictable because being with you for centuries has certainly allowed his mind to adapt and memorize all of your little quirks and possible reactions. Unpredictable because there are always times he finds himself surprised and then mildly exasperated at your behavior. But that’s what he likes about you. You’re not a boring doll like his other test subjects.

But this reaction… once again, he supposes he expected it but he didn’t at the same time. Funnily enough, Dottore is no stranger to your little tantrums when it comes to taking care of your health. Some kind of bizarre reaction from you wasn’t out of the question because he remembers the first time you ran away from taking your medicine.

—

When you realized your life would consist of daily checkups, your body constantly being hooked up to a lot of different things you really didn’t understand, and a whole bunch of other changes, you thought you could do it. You really did. Sure, it wasn’t easy, and it was scary and confusing and you cried at how different you were now but, you were getting through every day and that was what mattered.

However, ironically, your greatest enemy in life became medicine.

You should be grateful really, to have Dottore as your doctor. Although he certainly wasn’t a doctor to his other “patients”, he most definitely was to you. And he was a terrific one - attentive beyond human capability (not even including his segments), skilled, knowledgeable, adaptable, and attractive was also a good bonus. Hell, if it were anyone else besides him, you’d long be dead.

But one thing you absolutely despise is his talent for making the hardest-to-swallow medicine known to mankind.

Dottore had given you lots of different types of medicine since you woke up, experimenting with which was the most efficient. Although he did study how other bodies reacted to it before it entered your own system, it really didn’t spare you any pain because you always ended up dreading it. It wasn’t fun, no, but you had accepted it as your routine. 

Pills weren’t fun, but at least they were a quick swallow after you finished hyping yourself up to drink it. And, they were small or medium-sized. No biggie, right? But then came one time when you were utterly tricked. When Dottore presented you with medicine that you could drink easily rather than a pill, you were ecstatic.  

The syrup medicine was a nice color and looked like it would taste fine! But no, you should have known that the Doctor was a deceiving son of a- you get the point. The medicine tasted absolutely horrible, violating your taste buds. You would have spat it out, but it was already almost down your throat. You were genuinely thankful that medicine ended up being unhelpful to you because you don’t think you could have managed to swallow that every day.

Despite how every time you moaned and whined about it, you would steel yourself and take it anyway because you didn’t want to make Dottore’s life any harder, with how diligently he was working on these medicines solely for your sake.

But at one point, you just couldn’t take it anymore. What caused you to snap?

A pill that Dottore presented to you, that looked big even on his large hand. He had looked at you expectantly, while you looked at him incredulously, as your lover then placed it in your hand and set the glass of water to the side for you.

Okay [Name], you’ve endured all these trials so far. Surely you can handle this? You took a deep breath, slowly working up the courage to swallow it as Dottore waited, curiously looking at you. With a burst of energy, you brought it to your mouth, intent on gulping it, but stopped last minute. Your bravery had left you, as you brought the pill back to the table again. There was no way, just no way that was going in your throat without getting stuck. Just the thought of it was making you feel sick and anxious.

“I’m not doing it.” Dottore sighed.

“We’ve been through this countless times, [Name],” he shook his head as he walked to his desk, prepared to gather some things to work on because he was familiar with your agonizing long waits of trying to force yourself to drink your medicine. “Either you take it yourself, or I will be more than happy to help you myself.” The methods Dottore takes to “help” you take your medicine can be left up to the imagination.

“You won’t need to help me… because I’m not drinking that!” In a flash, you had bolted out the door, leaving the doctor alone in the room, blinking and processing what just happened before he rubbed his temples. Never, not once have you run away from taking medicine. Yes, you whined and begged him to let you skip it, just for one day (which he never indulged you in) but in the end, you’d always give in to your fate. Dottore walked over and picked up the pill, examining it. Was it really that bad?

Well, no matter. You’ll end up taking it anyway. His harshness comes from a good place at least, it is for your own sake after all.

Although you did put up a good fight, you never really had any chance of escaping in the first place, considering your rather poor health and stamina (and this is Dottore after all, no one gets away from him). But you just needed to put off that blasted medicine for a while longer, which was why you found yourself in your current situation.

In a stand-off with Omega, who had come to collect you and bring you back to Prime’s office, so you could finally take the pill. Beta was there too, as he was supposed to be helping, but he looked to be amused by the whole thing. Pointy teeth showed through as he watched the whole show, hands in his pockets. 

The “show” in question was how you were hiding behind a random Fatui agent, using the poor man as a shield, his soul definitely having left his body by now. Every time the segment tried to come closer, you’d physically move the agent’s body to block him from you. And well, even they couldn’t just kill the man like that. It would be quite funny, were it not for the fact that Omega was beginning to grow impatient and mildly annoyed that the other Fatuis were watching this go down. Not to mention the back and forth you two were having about how important it was for you to take the pill, versus your numerous arguments as to why you weren’t. Beta was just there cackling at the older segment’s predicament. But then all of a sudden, Omega backed off with a smile, giving you a chance to escape once again. Yes, you turned around, ready to dash for it, and then ran right into a solid wall.

There Prime Dottore stood, looking down at you with an unamused expression, at this little cat and mouse game. He didn’t really want to show this level of affection to you in front of the other agents, but he had no choice but to grab you and pick you up in his arms so you couldn’t run away anymore.

The other Fatuis could only stare at the scene, you kicking and flailing your arms, vehemently repeating how you weren’t going to drink that blasted thing, and about how evil and cruel he was. Eventually, he was able to make you swallow the pill, with the help of his other segments holding you down.

In the end, he had to ditch that pill because the struggle and tears you put up after that just weren’t worth it when there were better alternatives.

—

However, at least this time you didn’t run away. Instead, perhaps you thought holing up miserably in the corner would somehow make him sympathize with you and that he wouldn’t give you the needle. Unfortunately, you were incorrect. Dottore’s patients are to receive whatever treatment he deems necessary, even if it is you. Nevertheless, you are indeed a special patient. A special patient who receives special treatment, both medically and emotionally. So, it does make him feel a tiny bit sorry for you, seeing how scared you were. 

Though a part of him wonders, are you truly that afraid of a mere needle? Perhaps because he works with it every day, he cannot see how it could cause that much nervousness. Was it because of how he used it on others? Of course, you were no stranger to his less-than-ethical experiments on other people. But surely you knew that you wouldn’t be subjected to such conduct? Dottore ponders for a little while as you continue to crouch in fear. He wonders if he taught Zandy how to use the needle if that would make it less scary for you. But on second thought, you would probably get mad at him for trying to do that to his child segment.

But regardless of what either of you thought, you were getting that injection.

“[Name],” For once, his voice isn’t the normal tone that he takes on when you’re being difficult. So you lift your head and your eyes peek out from your knees as you pout at him. Dottore had set the needle to the side and walked closer to you, reaching his hand out to you, expecting you to get up and take it. With a sigh, you acquiesce and clasp your hand with his as he pulls you from the ground. Though you keep your eyes on the floor and your shoulders drooped, because you know that your fate is imminent. But Dottore tilts your chin so you’re forced to look up at him anyway.

“Why are you so insistent on acting like this?” Your partner questions.

“Because needles are scary,” you whine.

“But I am the one administering it. Nothing will happen.”

“Well, obviously I trust you,” you sigh in defeat. “I know you’d never hurt me. But that doesn’t make needles any less scary. And no matter what you say, I know I’ll still feel that prick of pain! I really don’t want it, Zandik!” You look up at him with pleading eyes. His fingers stroking your hair feels nice but it does little to relieve you of your anxiety. At that, Dottore merely stares for a few seconds before he pulls you to the operating table and helps you up. Well, at least you attempted to change his mind, you thought as you resigned yourself to the pain. You squeeze your eyes and tense your body, preparing for the inevitable prick, but instead, you feel hands slipping down your shirt and cool metal being pressed against your chest. Your eyes pop open as you turn to narrow your eyebrows at Dottore.

“What about the needle?”

“Forget about it. I will handle it another day,” Dottore waves off your concern, and all the stiffness in your body releases. Oh, you were so, so grateful. 

“Now breathe in for me,” Dottore requested. “And out. In. Out.” You did what he asked and he hummed as he recorded your heart rate or whatever he usually does, before moving to your back and repeating the same process. You liked how his hands felt on your body. They weren’t rough, uncharacteristically gentle even. Even though right now it was just professional procedures, it felt comforting. His hands always felt comforting.

Now that you think about it, although it sounds entirely untrue, Dottore was… the only doctor you had good experiences with. When you were a kid, you really didn’t like them. They usually… put you on edge. Unlike most children, the promise of candy did little to stop you from getting antsy during a check-up, and even the nicest doctors had their patience tested. But Dottore and the segments, well, despite their… tendencies, they did make you feel a lot better with your condition and all. It was really nice, to have people who wouldn’t give up on you or your health since you’ve been given up on in the past.

“I’ve heard that Alpha has been showing you the collection of Khaenri’ahn machines lately,” Dottore’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He was fiddling with the variety of tools he used for the check-up.

“Hm? Oh yeah, we have!” Dottore moved to examine both ears as you spoke. “I mean, studying Teyvat’s new language all the time gets so boring. So I just make him show me the cool stuff during breaks!” Although Zandik’s fascination with the machines was much greater than yours in the Akademiya, his enthusiasm had rubbed off on you too and you found yourself intrigued as well. One thing that had never changed though, was his habit of dumping all his thoughts on you. Seriously, once you got Alpha talking, he wouldn’t stop until every detail of his research had been covered. It was cute. It reminded you of how Zandik used to do the same thing late at night.

“Is that so?” Dottore had moved to check your eye, shining the light at it.

“Mhm! You know, seeing all the things you know now, makes me think back to how much you searched for answers all those years ago. Pushing and pulling me all those places,” you smiled, thinking about how you were always dragged to all parts of Sumeru for him to quench his thirst by hopefully obtaining fruitful results from the expeditions. It was tiring, but good times. You wished you could go back. Dottore then tapped your lips and you opened your mouth as he briefly examined it before returning to his clipboard. For some reason, you feel as though this check-up is dragging on a lot more than usual, but you didn’t really question it because why would you question spending more time with your beloved?

“Yes, and you never failed to complain, did you? You grumbled more than you spoke about the data,” Dottore replied as he continued to do whatever other tests on you before he pulled up your sleeve to wrap the cuff around your arm to check your blood pressure. You rolled your eyes.

“You’re lying! I always engaged in conversation with our research,” you stuck your tongue out at him. “I always pulled my weight! Maybe you were too busy mumbling to yourself and spilling ink everywhere instead of listening to me.” Zandik had a habit of that. Getting too lost in his thoughts and leaving you to babble like an idiot when he wasn’t even paying attention. Dottore only chuckled as he continued to work, pumping the device. You didn’t even notice that he was also preparing a needle with his other hand, because you continued to ramble on.

“And you know what, you were always far worse. In the beginning, you were either talking about research all the time, or complaining about others, or complaining about me.” Just because Dottore was all suave and smooth and poised now didn’t mean you forgot about how much he was not anything of those things back then! The more you reminisced about it, the memories of being slightly infuriated by his attitude came rushing back. So much so that you didn’t register the cuff being swiftly removed from your arm, nor the feeling of Dottore adjusting your arm and the prick of something being injected into you. 

“And!! Pantalone always tells me how much you complain to him about not only the budget but also a wide variety of things! And Bina too, I’ve heard numerous stories of those poor agents falling victim to you, hmph,” you awaited a response but Dottore didn’t humor you like he usually did. So you turned to look at him, but instead, he was carefully placing a bandage on you. You blinked once at the sight, then at him, and then at the empty needle on the tray, the contents empty. It didn’t take long for your brain to process what happened.

“You… you tricked me! You said I wasn’t going to get the needle!” You fussed but Dottore only smirked, his sharp shark-like teeth on display.

“Yes, I did. But it doesn’t matter now, does it? Did you feel any pain?”

“Well…” He was right, you didn’t feel a thing. With all the conversation and his quick yet efficient fingers, the needle didn’t hurt. Ugh, so that was Dottore’s plan… getting you all riled up and distracted so he could finish the job. It was sneaky… but as you tenderly brushed the injection site that was a little sore, you were oddly touched… it was sweet. He didn’t need to go out of his way to do this. Really, another large pill situation could have happened.

“No, you didn’t,” Dottore finished the sentence for you before rolling down your sleeve and cleaning up the area. “There was no need for such drama in the first place. I told you that it would be fine.” You pouted at his bluntness. It was a bit mean, but he lived up to his word. You should have expected that. He always does, when it comes to you. “You have to stay here for a bit. I need to see if the shot will have any immediate adverse effects on you.”

“O-Okay,” you replied, still a bit dazed by how Dottore managed to do that. You wondered, just… how quick were his hands?? Then he placed a kiss on your lips, catching you off guard once again, but he pulled away before you could reciprocate. Ah, it was probably his way of saying ‘well done.’

“H-Hey, don’t just walk away! I deserve more kisses for the ordeal I just went through! Come back here!”

Dottore ended up giving you lots of kisses everywhere as he pinned you down on the operating table. If all check-ups ended like this one did, well, you’d look forward to them a lot more…

—

Bonus:

“Dottore?”

“Yes, [Name]?”

“Can you make them… gummy?”

“Make what gummy?” A few seconds of staring at you makes it click in his head. “No.”

“Please!!” Immediately you pull out your best pleading eyes with a pouting lip, having no shame in dropping to your knees and wrapping your arm around his leg in the tightest grip you could muster. “Please, if it were gummies instead of actual pills or needles, I’d never complain!” Dottore sighs, trying to shake you off but to no avail. It seems you’re dead set on this. 

“At least some of them, please, I’ll do anything.” By this point, your face is buried into his leg, all but begging for him to make medicine that is gummy. It was so ridiculous it would make him laugh, but the idea of him and his segments having to not go through the unthinkable in order for you to take your medicine is honestly quite appealing to the doctor.

“Alright,” he complies, which causes you to shoot up from the ground and grasp his hands with glee. “I will experiment to see what I can do.” You smile widely before thanking him profusely and kissing his cheeks and then his lips. Although he enjoys your affection, Dottore finds himself wondering if you’re okay yourself, because who gets this excited over gummies for medicine? And then he hears your next question.

“Can you make them different flavors too? And oh, gummy bear-shaped too! By the way, my favorite flavor is-”

“[Name].”

“I’m sorry.”

[virginsexgod69]

Hi!! I love ur work for Daryl. I was wondering if you could write a daryl dixon oneshot where maybe him and the reader find an abandoned tattoo parlor while out on a supply run and reader gives him a tattoo and eventually that leads to smut! 🩷

❝ Inked ❞

pairing Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

cw established relationship, smut, unprotected p in v, pet names, pussy eating, needles (for tattoos), idk how to do tattoos so i apologize in advance for any inaccuracies

note omg i had a jolly good time writing this! tysm for the request =] i did lowkey tweak it slightly, but nothing major, i pinky promise

2.1k words

“I don’t think there’s anything else we can get outta this place,” you commented as you placed the only can- a can of cranberry sauce from who knows how long ago- into your backpack. You looked around, only seeing more bare shelves and Daryl. You smiled, a natural reaction you had whenever you saw him. He wrapped his strong arm around your shoulder, pulling you close before placing a kiss to your hairline. 

“We should take a look a’ these other stores ‘fore we start headin’ back,” he suggested as he guided you out the store, arm still wrapped snugly around you. You nodded your head in silent agreement, following beside him. It was hard to tell what most of the other buildings were since they were all dirty with broken or boarded up windows, but one in particular caught your eye. 

“Hey, look! A tattoo shop,” you pointed at the building, “Let’s go check it out!” You hurried toward it, semi-dragging Daryl with you. 

“The hell we gonna find at a tattoo shop?” He asked, seeming genuinely confused at why the hell you’d wanna go. 

“Hopefully more than some nasty ass canned cranberry sauce.” He couldn’t disagree with you there, so he fell in line with your fast paced steps toward the shop. 

 You both entered the shop with knives drawn in case any walkers decided to stumble out of the shadows. Nothing came when the two of you made noise in an attempt to draw them out, so you sheathed your knife and went all the way inside, Daryl in tow. The shop was small, which allowed the sunlight shining through the window to fill it. The walls were covered in framed pictures of tattoo designs, although they were covered in dust. The shop itself was in fairly good shape, considering. You and Daryl split off in different directions in search of anything that could be brought back to the prison. You couldn’t find anything that wasn’t tattoo related, which wasn’t surprising since this was a tattoo shop. What you did find, though, was a lot more exciting. Everything that you would need to do a tattoo was all there, right in front of you. 

“Find anything?” Daryl asked once he found you again. 

“Yes and no?” 

“Wha’s that s’pose to mean?” He asked. 

“There’s still everything here to do tattoos with, isn’t that cool?” 

“We gon’ get matchin' tattoos or somethin’? He teased. 

"Not a bad idea, Dixon," you mused. You patted the seat and he sat down after setting aside his crossbow and got comfortable. You thought about what to put on him. You had so many ideas that you may as well have had none. 

"Wha's goin' on in there?" he asked. It was something that he'd say whenever he noticed you deep in thought. 

"I don't even know what to put on ya," you admitted as you traced lazy lines on his bare arm with your finger, "or where to put it."  Your face brightened when an idea finally passed through your head. You grabbed his arm and turned his hand to face upward before wiping a spot on his wrist clean with the alcohol wipe you got lucky enough to find. You unpackaged a needle before dipping it into the ink cap. Since there wasn't any power, you'd have to do a stick and poke. You were vaguely familiar with them from a time of experimentation during your teen years. With your non-dominant hand, you stretched his skin before getting to work on your design. You could feel Daryl trying to take a peek at what you were doing, but you purposely blocked his view with your head each time. You worked slowly and carefully, doing your best to make something cute despite not even being an amateur. 

“Okay, you can look now,” you muttered timidly as you handed him back his arm. You weren’t sure if he’d like it or not and were starting to regret not finding a pen and making a sketch to run by him for approval first. But, it was too late now and all you could do was hope for the best. He brought his wrist closer to his face to get a better look. It was simple, a small love heart with his first initial plus yours. It looked like something a girl would doodle in her notebook while daydreaming about her crush. 

“S’cute,” he said as he admired the tattoo with a small, but genuine, smile on his face. His bright blue eyes looked up at you, filled with all the love and adoration in the world. “I love it.” You couldn’t help but smile at him. “You wanna gimme a matching one?” You joked, referencing his earlier comment. He glanced out the window, the sun was setting and it was likely you and him would have to spend the night here if he and you stayed for one more tattoo. Some privacy with you, alone, away from everyone at the prison sounded like heaven, and matching tattoos were a bonus. 

“Sure.” He got out of the seat and you got in. 

“You wan’ it in the same place?” 

You thought about it for a second. “I want it somewhere special, in a place for only you to see.” The rosy tint that blossomed on his cheeks wasn’t missed by you. You found it endearing how he sometimes grew flustered at your flirtation, despite it being nothing new. 

“Yeah? Where’s that?” He asked. 

“I dunno, Daryl. You pick,” you insisted with a smug look upon your face. He made quick work of unbuttoning your jeans and you lifted your hips to assist him in pulling them down all the way to your ankles. He stepped away and grabbed a new needle and ink. With another alcohol wipe, he cleaned a spot on your inner thigh before comfortably situating himself on his knees between your legs. You felt the small, frequent pokes of the needle as he got to work on the tattoo. Seeing him on his knees between your thighs made your stomach flutter. You knew that was his favorite place to be and having the tattoo there seemed like he was marking it as his own. As he was working, his hand accidentally brushed against your clit, eliciting a whine from you. He paused his work and glanced up at you, struggling to hide the smirk that tugged at his lips. You avoided his eye and he got back to work, but his hand bumped your clit more often. Each time left you desperate for more. You so badly wanted to close your legs and rub your thighs together or reach down and get yourself off, but you had to stay still. His hand brushed against you once more, causing you to squirm a little. 

“Keep still.” 

You glared down at him. “I’m trying to, but you keep-” He did it again and this time you were one hundred percent sure it was on purpose. Grumbling under your breath, you leaned back against the seat and did your best to keep still as he finished up. Once he was done, he wiped off the excess ink. 

“We should probably secure the place since we’re gonna be spendin’ the night here,” he suggested. 

“But Daryl,” you whined, “you can’t just leave me like this. You knew what you were doing earlier!” 

"Wha? Givin' you a tattoo?" You huffed and rolled your eyes and reached down to pull your pants back up, but he stopped you. 

"I'm jus' playin' darlin'. Sit back." He gently pushed you back into the chair before getting back on his knees. Slowly, he pulled your panties down to your ankles with your formerly discarded pants and yanked them both off over your shoes. He firmly gripped your hips and pulled you to the edge of the seat and placed your legs over his shoulders. Feeling his hot tongue lick up and down your soaked slit had you gripping the arm rests for support. With his thumb, he rubbed slow, teasing circles on your hard clit. His tongue was a welcome intrusion in your soaked entrance. You gasped and moaned out his name and your hands flew to his hair, your fingers getting tangled in his soft locks. This motivated him to rub faster circles on your clit, earning more gasps and moans from you. His tongue thrusted in and out of your dripping cunt as he tasted all of your juices, refusing to let any go to waste. You tugged his hair as your thighs involuntarily clamped around his head and he moaned unexpectedly, the vibrations from it bringing you closer to the edge. Your walls clenched around the pink muscle as he focused it on that one spot that always did things to you. 

"Daryl, please! I'm so close," you whined, desperate for him to bring you to your orgasm. If he weren't trapped between your plush thighs, he would've talked you through it, but instead he moved his lips to your clit and started sucking on it while prodding the bud with his tongue. You squeezed your eyes shut as the white hot waves of pleasure overtook your body. Daryl worked faster once he felt you tense up and your thighs convulsing around his head. Your fingers tightened in his hair as your toes curled. You could the vibration of his pleasured grunts against your soft flesh. 

"I'm gonna-" your back arched and head fell back as he pushed you over the edge, immersing you in a world of pleasure. He continued to lap at your pussy as you rode out your orgasm. Once you came down from that high, you relaxed and slumped against the chair. Daryl reluctantly freed himself from between your thighs since he needed to catch his breath again. His dick was straining against his pants with how hard he was just from hearing your sounds of pleasure and tasting your pretty pussy. And now, just seeing your fucked out face made him want to cum in his pants. 

 In one quick swipe, he cleared a nearby table of all its supplies. He picked you up from the chair with ease, tossing you over his shoulder before gently laying you onto the table. He made quick work of freeing his erection from his pants and stroked it a few times, causing precum to bubble up on the angry red tip. He lined it up with your slit, rubbing it up and down your slick folds teasingly. 

"So wet fer me, baby," he groaned as he lined himself up with your needy hole. You wrapped your legs around his hips, desperate for him to fill you up. Your body welcomed him as he slid in easily. 

"Yer takin' me so good, sunshine." He leaned down and connected his lips with yours. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue. His tongue danced with yours as you kissed each other passionately. Large, rough hands palmed at your clothed tits as he started thrusting into you. Frustrated with your shirt, he hurriedly pulled it over your head before attaching his lips to your neck, roughly sucking and biting your skin. His tongue slid over your carotid artery, feeling how fast your heart was beating. You clumsily tugged at his shirt and vest, a silent plea for him to take them off, which he did. When he was with you, his insecurities were non existent. You tightly gripped his shoulders, nails digging hollow indents into his skin as he increased the pace of his thrusts. 

"Feel so good," you slurred. He kissed open mouthed kisses down your body, occasionally leaving marks in his wake. You squirmed and moaned beneath him, your second orgasm approaching fast. He was close too, you could feel it in the way  his cock twitched inside you and his pace became slower snd less rhythmic. 

"I'm boutta cum, baby," he groaned. You wanted to tell him you were, too, but your mind was a jumbled mess that was drunk off his cock. When your second orgasm came, your walls tightly hugged his shaft, squeezing him closer to his own climax. He quickly pulled out and stroked himself the rest of the way. His mouth fell open and eyes rolled back as he shot white hot ropes of cum all over your naked body. 

 He collapsed into a nearby chair, panting for air. You slid off the table and joined him in the chair by sitting on his lap. Both your bodies were coated in the thin sheen of sweat as you held each other close as exhaustion took over your bodies. 

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[jadeddangel]

Hellooo may I request Husk with a reader whose appearance in Hell is that of a cute little mouse? She is shy and the kind of person to put things as nicely as posible, so she finds it hard to stand up for herself. Basically the "opposites attract" trope, if you are so kind! Thank youuu <3

OMG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!! AHHHH I SIMP FOR HUSK SO BAD

Warnings: talk of gambling, alcoholism, addiction , Trauma and suggestive themes

If you aren't over the age of 18 or of legal age please don't interact, having said that, Enjoy!!

A game of cat and mouse

The sky was dark red and black when you woke up.. there weren't any clouds, and aside from a red hue everywhere, the only thing that stood out was a giant clock in the middle of well wherever you were. Standing up, you brushed yourself off with your paws, wait... paws? You froze looking down at your hands, I mean, they looked normal-ish. I mean, you still had skin, but it was Grey and had fur running down the back of your hands, arms, legs, and shoulders. You had black claws, and you were staring to get overstimulated at all the sounds going on.. you went to put your hands over where your ears were when you were alive and let out a scream of sheer panic. You were scared there were so many things going on, and now you were missing ears?! You paused after a moment, realizing that it was ridiculous. How did you not have ears and be able to hear? And so you finally took a deep breath and went into an alley way as you were pretty much feeling yourself up.

You felt all over your body coming into contact with the large ears on your head and the long fuzzy tail you had. "OK, it's ok. Deep breathes. We'll figure this out it's not a big deal, right? I mean, this is probably just a dumb dumb dream .." You spoke to yourself

You lied. It had been 2 months since you got here now, and no matter what you've done to try and "wake up," nothing was working. And that's why you were standing here in front of the not so popular hazbin hotel. The outside of the large building looked mediocre, at best, and you were being modest. Taking a deep breath of the polluted air you knocked on the front door carefully, the echo of the loud knock spooking you nearly out of your fur. You could hear running towards the door before a brief pause and a blonde demon opened the door. "Hello there, little demon!! Welcome to the hazbin Hotel! Please come in come in!" Charlie greeted as she maneuvered around you, putting a hand on your back and leading you inside the doors closing behind you. You frantically tried to adapt to the new surroundings the princess of hell had forced you into. What you immediately spotted was a couch, a large stair case, a few people, and a bar? I mean, you had heard this was a place for rehab pretty much, not just a standard hotel. Charlie nudged you towards the couch. "Let me introduce you to everyone!! Ok, so we have angel dust, " charlie blabbered out as Angel looked up from his phone and gave you a brief head nod "alastor, our facilities manager, vaggie, my girlfriend and our general manager!! Oh, oh ! And here we have Kiki, razzle and dazzle, they work to protect the hotel!! That's nifty!" Charlie pointed to everyone excitedly, most of them barely even looking at you before the girl she addressed as nifty ran at you with a giant needle." Rat! There's a rat in the hotel!!" Nifty yelled. With a shriek, you jumped onto the coffee table. "I'm not a rat. I'm not a rat!!" You were nearly crying. You were embarrassed about everything feeling like a big deal, and then on top of the panic of being in a new place, it felt like your head was bursting. You had closed your eyes, and the next thing you knew, there was someone picking you up off the table after they had noticed you panic. It was angel dust.. he was holding you high above nifty's reach though he didn't need to cause you saw this.. cat person? Holding nifty up by the collar of her dress.. he seemed tired.. and grouchy . Angel finally set you down "sorry 'bout that cutie, nifty can be a bit much at first," angel said, crouching a bit so he was face to face with you instead of face to tits . You nodded a bit. "Thank you, angel dust," you said quietly, "it's alright, cutie, it's no problem to me, my friends call me Angie btw," Angel said sweetly

And just like that, your stay at the hazbin Hotel began. It was starting to calm down after a few months. You had grown close with angel, the two of you often hanging out at the bar. The cat's name that you had learned was husker, but he preferred husk. Then it all started, late night drinks and talks with husk though you did most of the talking or it wad just quiet. You both talked about so many things, what foods you liked, what drinks you preferred. And even though you were opposites, you were both crazy attached to each other.

You and Angel were having some small talk at the bar just laughing with each other. "And then! Hahaha ha and then Val has the guts to ask me to redo the scene!!" Angel laughed out. You both had been talking about funny stories and about things when you were alive . Angel finished off his drink before winking at husk. "Oh husker~, you wanna do me a favor and poor me another drink kitty?~" Angel asked with a smirk. You could hear husk grumble under his breath about something. Husk then turned to you. "Want another soda? I know you're not much of a drinker, so I asked Charlie to get us some, " husk said, leaning against the bar counter slightly. You gave him a happy nod before handing him your cup, soon husk left, and Angel smirked at you .oooooo you and Kitty got somethin' goin' on, don't ya' ?" Angel teased poking your shoulder a bit. Your cheeks turned a darker Grey at his words "w-what?.. me and husk what? No way psht- that's ridiculous. Why do you think he likes me?" You were embarrassed, but God, you were curious. Did Angel know something you didn't. "Mm, I'll tell you if you tell me what made you die , deal?" Angel held his hand out a bit.. you took a moment questioning if it was worth it before shaking his hand. "Deal.."

You took a deep breath "Alright uhm it was my boyfriend's fault.. you see, I had this really bad habit of falling for people that really didn't care about me.. they just wanted a body or something they thought they could gain.." You spoke quietly before clearing your throat."I was beaten to death.. I thought I was just going to sleep, but uhm, he had caused internal bleeding and..." You zoned out a bit."That's why I'm a mouse.. I'm just viewed as prey and a good pet for some person that thinks their god. " You ranted a bit

Angel looked guilty about making the deal, having heard that.. "Oh, cutie.. I'm sorry.. uhm, I don't know if husk likes you, deary, " Angel said softly while rubbing your back . You sighed a nodded a bit; husk returned back to the main bar and handed you your glass full of soda gently careful not to spill any before carelessly handing angel his drink ,husk put his hand over yours when you went to grab your drink " are you alright mouse? You don't seem well.. cmon, let's take you to your room.." husk said softly as he walked around the bar and helped you off the high chair before grabbing your drink and helping you walk up to your room. Husk sat you down on your bed, trying to get you to relax a bit. He rubbed over your shoulders, trying his best to soothe you from your emotional anguish that was written on your face. "It's gonna be ok, just relax," husk said quietly while rubbing your shoulders. Husk looked down at you, worried. "I heard what you and Angel were talking about.. I'm so sorry you had to go through that" husk was rubbing along the edges of your ears to help calm you, "Now uhm I now I suck at stuff like this but it looks like you need one " husk said opening his arms a bit. You pulled husk close and cuddled into him, relaxing at the smell of sandalwood and rum. Husk wrapped you up his wings, holding you close. "Thank you, husk.. " you said softly, husk smiled ever so slightly as he rubbed your arms and back carefully "yknow I heard everything even about a certain crush you have. " Husk chuckled a bit. You blushed a bit and went to pull away from the hug, but husk kept you close to his chest "let me finish.. I really like you too little mouse and I'd really like to stay with you for as long as I can.." husk finished finally letting go a bit so that you could pull away if you so pleased. But you could never.. husk made you feel safe made you feel whole.. and nothing could change that.. You had a big smile on your face as you pulled him closer "I really like you too husk.." you muttered. Husk smiled a bit more "so how about we just stay here for a bit and just hang out mk?and if I may be so bold I'd like to ask you to be my girlfriend " husk rubbed your back in soothing circles. You squeaked happily (blame the mouse part) as you nodded like crazy.

Everything is perfect

[brights-place]

John Dory X Country Troll! reader? PLEASEEE

John Dory X Country! S/O

Pairings: John Dory X Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Slight Angst at the end neheheheh

A/N: Ah yes the country trolls I LOVE THEM SO MUCH THEY ARE SO CUTEEEEEEEEE! anyways love yall ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)!♡ - COUNTRY TROLLS ARE SO CUTE LIKE OML HAVE YOU SEEN THEIR DESIGNS?!? OMG LIKE THEY ARE SO COOL LOOKING! - John dory once he broke up with brozone explored and met diffrent genres but then... He met you when visiting the country trolls - You were an country troll and you were gorgeous you had the basic troll body type from the waist upwards and wore you usual country troll attire with the lower half of their bodies being that of a horse, complete with hooves and tails. your F/c tail and hair and 2nd f/c skin - Your hair was fluffy and puffy it was gorgeous and made john dory eyes widened you were talking to delta with an huge smile the two of you sitting at an table together as you re-tuned delta is banjo - John dory couldn't help but slow down his walk to stare at it before seeing you noticing John dory as an look of confusion appeared on your face - You walked over staring down at John Dory and the fact you towered over him made him blush slightly as he stared "Uhm- I-" he started as you raised an brow "Whats your name sugar cube?" you said as he became even redder - "John... John Dory" he said trying to sound tough and dominant but became quiet once you raised an brow "John what?" You asked again as he blushed as Delta raised an brow judging John dory - You decided to welcome him but delta judged John dory and telling you to be careful which you were but you wanted to make him feel safe with you guys - Delta soon was fine with John dory around as Delta spoke pointing towards you doing your daily chores "Don't be scare bumpkin'! Our precious (name) is one of the best cowboys in town and you won't find someone like her! She's like a needle in a hay stack, she is!" Delta said chuckling as John dory watch you from afar - He asked about you and country trolls whenever he was wondering and you explained some common values and beliefs often associated with Western societies include individualism, democracy, human rights, the rule of law, freedom of speech, equality, and a strong emphasis on personal and economic freedom. - He literally paid attention to every single thing you said and literally fell in love with you the moment you turned to him smiling and then asking him about pop music and pop troll culture - You wanted to know stuff about him? he literally smiled talking about himself self and he introduced you to some pop music which you then decided to introduce him to country music showing him and teaching him about country music but you literally froze when he spoke up - "Whoa... so its hillbilly music?" literally had to run away as you chased him around he easily lost the small cat and mouse chase and was close to being beaten the shit out of by you - Delta and other cowboys had to hold you back before you told them what he said and everybody was close to beating Up JD who apologized quickly but got stink eyes from many Country trolls

- Since most of country trolls eat  BBQ good most of the time you make him food for fun - He likes when you take him out on rodeos or take him out for dinner whenever he finds it nice and relaxing - He was dancing with you at an barn dance and you placed your cowboy hat ontop of his head and walked away some country trolls jaws drop - "Wow! They done give y'all their cowboy hat? Y'all have a good time now, (Names) sure are picky 'bout what they like." Delta said chuckling patting John dorys shoulder as John raised an eyebrow at her confused "What?" - Wear the Hat and ride the cowboy IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!!! -Because of your four legs your quite fast at running, have great endurance and are quite strong all of country trolls are but loves when you run around with him sitting and chatting with you as he tells you stories about his trips while you do your duties

- You two started to get close and he'd randomly kiss your cheek whenever he can or pull down your cowboy hat to tease you while your chatting with country trolls who snicker at both of your interactions - You would go on picnic dates and teach him how to do survival skills and he'd learn them and find most of them useful using them himself when he goes exploring - You and Him would have an photo of both of you together smiling and singing that some country trolls took - But John dory explores and travels around he doesn't stay in one place that's normal for him but for you... you were hurt - You cried calling out to "John Please you can't just leave" you said tearing up "(name please you know I move around alot you know this had to be coming right?" You stared to the sand floor before looking up to him with furrowed eyebrows as he spoke "(name)" he started but you cut him off as he reach an hand out to you "Don't... John listen if you do this I won't forgive you we literally are together and if you do this I'm repeating myself but I won't forgive you and what we have will no longer - He left... like he did with the other genres of trolls he left you after you begged him to stay longer or just live with you

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Hello!! I really like your writing, there is always such a nice level of care and comfort to your fics!!

I was hoping to request a wandanat x reader fic, where reader has chronic appendicitis and doesn’t realize it until she has to be rushed to the hospital from it getting so bad.

(Sorry this one is self indulgent because I had chronic appendicitis when I was younger, but I would also fake being sick to get out of school so when I actually had appendicitis my mom didn’t believe me. It would flare up like once every few months and just be the most debilitating painful thing I’ve ever experienced, made even worse when I had to try to walk and sit through school. She only finally believed something was wrong when I eventually had it on the weekend and immediately rushed me to the ER lol)

If you already have a fic like this or don’t wanna write it that’s so completely fine! Thank you and I hope you’re doing awesome!!! 💞

A Steady Decline

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 1.1K

Summary: Reader is in some weird pain. It feels like cramps from hell but its all wrong. What is it?

TW: Cramps, pain, surgery, mentions of injury, mentions of canon typical violence, pain medicine, needles (implied), hospitals, appendicitis

A/n Omg im so sorry this took so long, I have had so many requests and I finally got around to this one. Im sorry to everyone who’s waiting on requests and thank you all for being so patient with me :)

It started after a mission. It was a simple mission, and it went without injury so the pain didn’t make any sense. Maybe your period was coming early? What else would explain the weird cramping feeling in your midsection. But this felt slightly different. It's not where the cramps usually sat.

Walking off the quinjet behind Wanda and steve would normally be great after a mission with no injuries but your stomach really hurt. You plastered on a fake smile and did your best to stand at full height. Once you were clear of the jet Nat rushed over and pulled you and Wanda in for a hug.

“I miss you guys. How was the mission?” She said squeezing tight. You groaned softly and she immediately pulled away. Holding you at arm's length she scanned your body for injuries.

“Baby what’s the matter?” Nat said now in full spy mode.

“Yeah, love i didn’t see or hear anything about any injuries?” Wanda said looking both concerned and annoyed.

“Im fine. Just sore. Pretty intense fight with one of the stupid hydra agents.” You muttered and rolled your shoulders back to loosen the muscles. You winced as it moves your torso uncomfortably. Nat’s gaze narrowed but she let it go.

“If you're sure.” She said and Wanda seemed to dismiss it.

“Come on. I wanna shower before this debriefing.” Wanda said and grabbed your hand and started dragging you back to the shared room.

The pain seemed to settle, with the odd cramp and dull ache that had settled you were beginning to question if this really was your period or something else entirely. You pushed that thoughts away and began to strip for a shower. The heat of the water soothed your aching muscles but did little for the pain in your stomach. Was it your stomach? The pain seemed to almost be shifting to your lower right side. Your uterus didn’t move, did it? You almost laughed at the idea. Dismissing the thought.

After a warm shower you slipped on some tracksuits and a hoodie before throwing your hair into a messy bun and sliding on a pair of ratty old sneakers. They were old but you loved them to bits. Literally.

After brushing your hair, you went down to the briefing room now trying very hard to ignore the active pain that was shooting through your abdomen.

You ran your hands through your damp hair and hurried to your seat at the table. Resting your head on the desk you wrapped an arm around your midsection as you waited for the others to arrive. After a bit you heard footsteps and looked up to see the disapproving face of your redheaded spy girlfriend. Her arms were crossed as she looked you up and down her suspicions confirmed.

“Alright L/n whats going on? I know somethings up. Now spill.” She said.

“Im fine. Just … cramps … or whatever.” You said dismissively.

“Right…” she said slowly. “Cuz cramps make you all pale and sad.”

“Sad yes. Pale. No. Im not pale.”

“Yes. You are you-“ Nat began only to be cut off by your other girlfriend who came in.

“Whats going on?” Wanda asked, freshly showered.

“Y/n/n here is in pain and claims it's just cramps.” Nat said glaring at you with no real heat behind it. Wanda opened her mouth to speak but fury and steve entered and everyone took their seats.

You tried your best to pay attention, you really did but it hurt so bad. So so bad. You were curling in on yourself. And after a bit were fully zoned out.

Fury must have asked you something because there was a pause before Nat jabbed you in the ribs to get your attention.

However instead you curled in on yourself further, crying out and falling out of your chair. You didn’t really hear them tell Jarvis to get Bruce, you weren’t really present enough to remember the trip to the med bay. Or Bruce examining you while your girlfriends stood nervously by the door. You barely remember counting back as you breathed in the anaesthetisa. You just remember it hurting so much. Wanda and Nat were the last faces you saw before fading into darkness.

It was a soft darkness, kind of like an ocean. You floated around a bit and it felt nice. Spacey and soft. After a few seconds your conciseness faded all together and you drifted into a dreamless drug filled sleep.

But the next thing you knew, you woke in a white hospital room. There was a soft beeping of monitors as they measured your vitals. Based off the obnoxious sized poster of Ironman on the wall you knew you were in the tower's recovery ward. I mean of course it had one, with a team of superhero’s injuries were almost endless.

However, it was amusing Tony chose this room, or you assumed it was tony. This was the room where you met your girlfriends for a real introduction way back when pigs flew. It had been after a heat battle when you had stepped in and saved Wanda’s life. Who would have thought all these years later you would be back here. With them by your side again, but this time a whole new dynamic.

As you took stock of your surroundings you faintly realised the pain so much more tolerable. An IV was placed in the crook of your elbow with what you assumed was only the good stuff based off how buzzed and spacey your felt. Nat and Wanda were asleep either side of your bed each holding one of your hands. When you woke so did nat. Who immediately stood and brushed the hair from your eyes.

“Hey baby girl. How are you feeling honey?” She asked and you grinned back goofily.

“I feel great!” You slurred. Nat chuckled softly still carding her hands through your hair.

“Im sure your do love. Bruce has you on the strong stuff.” She said and Wanda made a noise as sat up rubbing her eyes.

“Morning sweetheart.” She said with a yawn “when did you wake up?”

“Natty woke me up.” You grinned and nat playful slapped your arm.

“No i didn’t you ass.” She said with a snort, and you gasped, clutching your arm in mock offence.

“Wands, she hit me.” You pouted and Wanda chuckled.

“Baby you kind of deserved it.” She said.

“Nooo. You're all ganging up on meee.” You whined and the two women chuckled.

You were stubborn as an ass and maybe the biggest flirt on the team. But Wanda and Nat would love you regardless, with or without an appendix.

MASTERLIST

[jazeswhbhaven]

That's What You Get When You Eat a Mandrake~ (Beel Butt L-Card Story: Ch.1) *React 2*

S t o p

Be sure to check out Part 1 of this react first ->

If you've already checked it out you're good to go ^^

So we left off on Beel, Dong-hyung and MC making it back to the palace after walking through Avisos. MC is very much still drunk asf.

But our cute bby did it!! He carried MC all the way back and Beel is impressed so-

So Beel pulled down DonBear's pants lmao and left a tattoo on his booty that says 'cute' lol So now we know how Beel 'tattoos' he uses magic to do it. (kinda reminds me of that Misfits episode...)

And here this is how I realize that getting a tattoo from Beel is the highest honor. Also we do know DonBear is of age because he was at the bar in the first place, but perhaps he just didn't earn the piercing just yet because there are a lot of citizens of Avisos to go through...I'm sure some of them don't have a piercing yet.

hehehehehe

Awh that would be cute, imagine DonBear being the future king of Gluttony? (Though I wonder if Bael would be like...uh maybe let's not say that even though he needs a damn break lol)

Even when MC went back to Gehenna he was still poking around wondering when he'd see them again T^T and he crafted the booty chocolates in the idea of MC's butt that's just amazing to me. (also he's an ass guy confirmed then)

But but but-

So I jumped ahead a bit in the last react post it seems they didn't' drag him along with them until AFTER the flashback ^^;

But still a hundred doctors??? Damn I wish I had that many at my call when I get sick like dang help (mammon would probs get me doctors, the best care around or I could just see Morax &lt;3)

This is the part where I'm like, dang what would that do to MC if they ate it???

Again then why the fuck were ppl putting it in the chocolate omg, MC was literally about to eat like a box or two T^T (which I mean maybe it does nothing in small quantities but still)

But I can't help but not feel sorry for Beel he didn't have to eat all those boxes like a jealous heathen lol

BAEL PLEASE

So it's explained that if he doesn't get the antidote that it will consume his mind and make it troubled and Beel is just like "Yeah uh my friend is fucking dense so will there be any difference?"

Pls. The shade.

So Beel didn't hit him because of what he said about his mind, but because-

Our bitey horni king of Gluttony is fucking scared of needles I cannot.

This is just really funny seeing as how he seemingly isn't really afraid of anything but that.

He really doesn't want that shot lol

They ask MC though if they're willing to give him the shot and I'm sitting over here like...

(I have to sometimes help my roommate with their T-shots so...I kinda know what I'm doing/ they also don't like needles btw so this has been a ride for the household)

So everyone leaves the room so MC and Beel can discuss this and right off the bat I feel that MC is me here too because I'd say the same shit "That's what you get, Beel. Now look at you."

NOPE NOPE You don't get to grrrrrr at me >:( you got one more time to growl

*shakes my finger* Don't you dare....bad devil...bad boy!

ULTIMATUM TIME. Because yeah if we're gonna be childish and growling and shit, let's get real I ain't coming back. I'm staying in Gehenna and ordering Satan to kick you out on sight >:(

So it seems the threat made him serious, because he pulls down his pants (lmaooo he was like damn it's like that then...)

and phew the description of his ass

Huh, I wonder what MC is watching then because man sometimes there's some nice booty in porn *shrug* BUT I DIGRESS this is MC's universe lmao

I just know we've seen his pale non tanned booty on that card and it's nice. I'm trying to decide if Mammon's is better though cause it's got that badoonk round thing going for it...hmmmmm

(sidebar: on his attacker card I wanna be in that club seeing how his butt flexes and moves when he fucks because-) ahem

moving onnnnn :D

Same MC. Same.

So he's not gonna do the shot for free. He has bad memories. Hm.... I'm sure we will know more about that later. Possibly something bad involving angels is a high reason why he hates shots.

Oh???? So we're gonna have to distract him then....

This is gonna get hot...like really hot, and it's probably gonna take me forever to unlock the unholy board because I'm f2p lmaooo I'll just partake in the spoilers when they pop up btw there is a weird bug that I'm not sure they fixed yet for this card's unholy board. Most aren't able to proceed and some aren't able to use his ultimate either. BUT in conclusion: Beel was being an ass and now his ass in on the line. Lol I bet you he won't even remember or care about this once he gets the shot. No accountability will still eat any gift anyone gives MC in the future no matter what. But as always thank you for sitting in on another react by your lovely admin. I am now going to finish that Bael oneshot and gear up for a full Valentine's day of Beel for you all. -your lovely admin ♥( ˆ⌣ ˆԅ)

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

omg bond would be an incredible choice for a knight/queen au,, I would go so crazy if you ever wrote that

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Minors interacting with this work will be blocked.

Notes: Not beta-read. Reread several times and will probably spot 87 typos once I hit post.

Sometimes you write a regular fic and other times you find yourself googling whether or not people performed oral sex in the medieval era. it's all a crap shoot.

anyway.

Length: 7.9K

Warnings: Slow burn; explicit sexual content - oral sex; vaginal sex

From the moment that he kneels before you—as the light sets a halo about his blond hair, and as he tips his chin up to meet your eye and murmur his oath of fealty—you know that he’ll be trouble. It’s in the flash of his eye. 

His crisp blue gaze flickers to yours, and he shoots you a wink with such speed that your husband hardly has the chase to catch it. It makes your stomach flip with an allure and vehemence that nearly unseats your stern concentration.The feeling that rises in you isn’t love. It’s not even interest. 

It’s fear. 

-- 

He trails you like a shadow. 

You can’t blame him; you know that he acts on your husband’s orders. Blofeld worries for your youth, and fears the possibility that you may stray. You have a guard set on you every day and night. On the evenings that you don’t spend with Blofeld, you sleep with Bond posted just inside your door on your husband’s insistence, ensuring that your bed remains empty, and cold.

On those nights that he occupies the stool beside your door, you sleep very little. He stays awake out of a sense of duty; you stay awake with the lingering, heavy knowledge of the man just a few feet away. You know that he’s popular with the ladies of court. He can’t stride or ride by without inspiring the twittering of giggles and whispers by the ladies gazing from behind their fans, or over the tops of their books. You hear of his bawdy teasing, his warm smiles, his winks. You’ve never been privy to them, save for the single flash of a wink as he swore his oath to you, and to Blofeld. When your protector’s name and nighttime companion are brought up in conversation among your ladies, you force a straight face regardless of their speculations and teasing. For all of your interest and fascination, you have no right, no daring to look toward a knight with interest. 

Even if you did—even if you had any sort of designs on Bond, any interest in the way his gazes hold to yours, and the way his careful grasp lingers as he helps you from a horse or carriage—your affair would be nigh on impossible. 

It’s no matter. 

Your husband has spies in the court, so many that you have no trust in Bond’s exclusion among their number. You hardly trust your ladies maids. For all of their own secrets that they share, and their encouragement to trust them with the matters that occupy your head and heart, you shield yourself from them. 

Well, from most of them. 

Lady Eve is the only one of your ladies maids that came to Blofeld’s court with you when you were sent to wed him. She’s your only true confidant, quick with a smile and a joke if needed, and skilled at unsheathing her sharp tongue to guide the other ladies back into line if they begin to speak or act out of turn. She manages several duties that you wouldn’t trust others with: running messages, communicating with cooks and servants. Between Blofeld’s controlling insistences and Eve’s obliging care, you slowly build a wall around yourself, separating you from the court, and the people that look to your husband for guidance. 

--  

“You ought to try smiling one of these days.” 

It’s not an unexpected criticism, but it’s certainly an unwanted one. You’d be happy to spend the afternoon in the garden in a companionable quiet, but it seems that she has other plans. You cast Eve a surly glance, but her smile remains bright and unwavering. Her hands work just as steadily, knitting needles clicking softly as she casts off. 

“I mean it,” She insists, finally lowering her gaze to her work. “If you’re not careful, you’ll forget how.” 

You sigh softly, shoulder slouching slightly as you look around the expanse of grass, and the vines creeping up the sides of the castle walls. 

“I’ve no reason to smile.” 

“You’re alive. Is that not reason enough?” 

“No. It is not.”

“...You know what you ought to do.”

Your stomach churns with the conspiratorial edge to Eve’s voice. You glance toward her again to find her pointedly fixated on her craft. 

“It would never work,” You insist. 

“It could.”

“He would have my head.” 

“Only if you were caught.” 

Eve’s conspiratorial gaze flickers to you again, her smile widening. You can’t bring yourself to feel the same sense of mirth, of excitement. 

“Your Majesty.” 

You whirl around, spotting one of your husband’s advisors. Bond lingers not too far behind, his hand poised on his sword as if the man is a stranger—as if you’re about to ask him to take the advisor’s head off. 

“The King insists on your presence in the throne room.” 

You nod, stony-faced. “I will join him presently.” 

The advisor gives a low bow before he turns, striding away without you. You shift up onto your knees, wobbling as the fabric of your dress catches beneath your shoe. Before you can tumble backward, a firm hand rests against your lower back, and another hand catches hold of your own flailing one. You freeze at the steady contact, your eyes widening as you look up at Bond. He draws you up gently. Your legs feel unsteady, even when you’re drawn to your full height, with your feet planted firmly on the ground. Bond’s arm skims against your side, his fingers flexing in the fabric of your desk as his thumb sweeps tenderly across the side of your hand. It sends heat skittering through your body, and sets your heart fluttering in your chest. Bond’s eyes search yours in silence, his brow scrunching slightly. Your gaze drops to his lips, and damnably lingers as his pink tongue sweeps across his lip. 

You’re jolted by the clacking of Eve’s knitting needles, and the sound of her pointedly clearing her throat. You step out of Bond’s grasp, yanking your hand from his as you avert your nervous eyes. 

“...Thank you, Sir James.” 

“At your service, Your Majesty.” 

You stalk around him with Eve hot at your heels. You feel him tracking you as you leave him standing alone in the garden. 

--  

He would have your head. 

Blofeld is not known for a tendency toward kindness. He has a reputation for his traps, for tricking opponents into showing their hands for the purpose of identifying their weak spots. He makes no attempt to shield you from his bloodlust and cruelty. You take each instance of outward barbarism as a warning, each smiling goad and teasing admonition as a silent threat: 

This could be you.

--  

The festivities to celebrate the day of Blofeld’s birth are a mighty affair. The events are to last a week. Lords, ladies, vassals, and knights arrive from all over the kingdom. There are dances, plays, poetry readings—and most importantly, a tournament. Of all of these events, you know that it’s crucial that you’re present for the tournament. With all of his barbarity, Blofeld adores the play of war. He takes inordinate pleasure in watching his knights fight for his attention, and finds amusement in the spilling of their blood. 

You have little interest in watching men beat one another senselessly, but you know that you must make a public showing, not only for your husband, but for the court, and his people. 

For all of your impatience and disinterest, you can’t help but keep your eyes trained on Sir James. His form and composure are a fascinating sight. You see the man nearly every day, but hardly ever in this way. It bolsters your belief that should you be attacked in the night, the man hunkering by your door will protect you with his life—and come out cleanly on the other side. 

When he approaches the stands on horseback before the joust, you’re certain that he’ll ask your husband to look on him with approval. But after he dips his head in deference toward your husband, he turns his attention to you. 

“Your Majesty,” He speaks up loudly enough for others in the stands to hear him, “Would you do me the honor of allowing me to wear your favors today?”

You can see Blofeld turn to you expectantly out of the corner of your eye, and hear the murmur of others around you. In the two years you’ve been married to Blofeld, you’ve never given your favors to any knight—every knight has been too afraid of your husband to ask. And since the very first moment you saw Sir James, since he gave you that quick wink as he swore his fealty, he has avoided untoward outward displays of interest. This is hardly untoward, but you know that it’ll set tongues wagging among the court. Now, you rise from your seat, fingers twining in the rich purple fabric. Sir James raises his lance, resting it on the railing for the stand. You look down, fighting to steady your shaking fingers as you carefully tie and knot the favor around the lance’s blunted tip before you step back again. The two of you trade a genial nod before you lower yourself to sit on your cushioned seat again. With nothing else to hold to, you rest your hands on the arms of your seat. 

It’s no great surprise that with his skill, Bond rises through the standings throughout the tournament. You watch time and again as he lowers his visor, tilts his lance, and sends his opponents off-kilter, or crashing through the ground. But his form, while near-perfect, is not invincible. Perhaps it’s just as well that the one man that matches him equally is the one that he’s closest to in court. In the rare moments that you’ve seen Bond relaxed, he’s been with Sir Felix. They were squires with the same knight, became warriors in the same war—and, if rumor is to be believed, became men with the same woman. They are as near to brothers as any two unrelated men could be. 

Perhaps it’s this familiarity that drives them both to tilt with such ferocity—a ferocity that nearly knocks Bond from his horse during the second round. A gasp catches in your throat as James’ body is bounced, nearly prone in his saddle. It’s another moment before he straightens. As he removes his helmet, you can just make out his expression twisting with discomfort, his startled, dazed blinking as blood runs from his forehead, nearly obscuring one of his bright eyes. Your stomach flips, and you tighten your grip on the arms of the chair to keep from rising to your feet. You have a damnable urge to run to him, to use your sleeves to wipe the blood from his face, and insist that he leave the tournament to see a physician.

Bond just impatiently pushes his squire’s hand away as the young boy tries to clean the blood from his master’s head. Bond crams his helmet back onto his head and grasps his previously fallen lance. Your gaze darts between him and Sir Felix as each man takes up their positions. Blofeld leans in to you, mistaking your panic for rapt interest. 

“Now all Felix has to do to finish him off is land a blow to James’ arm,” He says, “And he’ll win the championship.” 

“Has he ever won before?” You ask. 

“No. There’s yet to be a tournament that Bond hasn’t won. But that is all about to change.

Turning to look at your husband, you find his smile split wide into a bloodcurdling giddy grin. When he turns it toward you, you push a smile onto your lips, and murmur, 

“If his defeat pleases you, then it shall please me.” 

Blofeld’s grin manages to widen, and he claps his hand over yours with stinging force. You break your attention from one another as the thundering of hooves fills the air. Your gut tightens, your heart sinks—and then soars as a solid blow sends Felix tumbling from his horse and onto the ground. The crowd roars as James hoists his lance high in victory with your favor blowing in the wind, and you have to bite back your own sound of excitement. You feel Blofeld’s grip go slack, then drop away to grudgingly applaud Bond’s efforts. 

Bond’s face is as victorious as he tosses off his helmet, despite the river of red obscuring part of his face. He turns finally to the stand again and slides from his horse, kneeling to Blofeld. 

You know that Bond will be crowned champion. You’re certain that your husband is displeased. 

-- 

For all of his cruelty, Blofeld hardly exerts that power over you in your bed chamber. You spend most nights alone, and it’s rare that he orders for you to join him. His birthday is always one such occasion. You resign yourself to a dispassionate evening—a handful of thrusts, an encouraging pat on your cheek, and a mumble of producing an heir before he rolls away from you. You’re certain that he spends most nights with other women. 

You are at once grateful and pitying of their place in your husband’s affections.

Tonight, there is no knight in your chamber. It’s simply you, your husband, and the shock of Bond’s bright gaze and shining halo of hair in your mind’s eye. 

--  

You’re told of Bond’s carousing. Eve recounts how the evening unfolded to you as you breakfast together in your chambers. She tells you that Sir James and Sir Felix’s antics continued through the evening, starting with an arm wrestle, and ending with a drinking contest. She teases that Sir James was seen leaving the hall, following Lady Vesper into the night. The news unsettles you so much that you lower the last of your bread, unable to stomach it. For all of Eve’s teasing, she quiets when she notes your discomfort. 

“...You would have enjoyed yourself,” She finally offers. 

“I did enjoy myself.” 

It’s a hollow insistence, and one that she knows as well as you is a lie. 

-- 

Despite his victory and the whispers of his evening with Lady Vesper, Bond is as attentive and consistent with his attention toward you the following day. He has a bandage on his head, and you recognize a smear of salve that the physician uses on wounds. You go about your day as usual, fighting the urge to ask Bond if he needs rest, or if he’s in any pain, if he feels that your favors brought him any luck. 

The question sits on your lips all day. In the evening, alone with him, you can’t bring yourself to quiet it anymore:

“Are you quite well?” 

He hasn’t settled on his stool yet. He stands firm by the door, his hands clasped in front of himself. Surprise flits across his expression so quickly that you nearly don’t catch it, but he smooths it away again. 

“Well, ma’am?” 

You swallow thickly, tightening your robe around yourself and gesturing toward the bandage on his forehead. 

“You took a hard hit at the tournament yesterday.” 

His hand raises to it, but he stops and lowers his hand before he can touch it. 

“I have taken worse.

“I’m sure.” 

Perhaps that was a wrong thing to say; Bond’s gaze seems to narrow just a touch. 

“I am well, ma’am.” 

You give a short nod, mumbling, “Good,” Before you shuffle over to your bed. You blow out the remaining candles, plunging the room into darkness before you shrug your robe off and toss it aside. You curl up under the covers, curling your arms under your pillow and peering toward the window as you hear Bond lower himself to the stool. Tonight, you can’t abide by the quiet. Tonight, you find yourself fearing that you may have offended James when you simply meant to ask after his help.

“Goodnight, Sir James,” You murmur. You hear nothing for a few long moments, and you resign yourself to a cold loneliness. And then, so softly that you nearly miss it— 

“Goodnight, ma’am.”   

--  

The trip is a mandatory one, and something that you’ve undertaken twice before. It’s customary for Blofeld to make the journey, as he has every year since he was a young boy. The trip is long and arduous, tracked over the same path time and time again. You school your focus and try to embroider or read, despite the lingering headache that it inspires. You’ve learned the hard way that Blofeld doesn't care for idle hands, even if the efforts are to your detriment. 

Still, you squint narrowly, fighting to hold the book steady as the carriage rocks and jostles along the forest path. You push off the lingering fatigue that you feel, certain that if you nod off, Blofeld will level some whack or shove to bring you to again. It’s no use. Your eyelids begin to droop, and your head begins to hang over your book as your focus grows…dim…

You’re awakened at a thwack on the side of the carriage. Your eyes snap open, and you startle, shrieking when you spot an arrowhead buried beside your head in the wall of the carriage. You realize that the carriage has come to a standstill, and the air is filled with shouting voices and the hammering of hooves. The carriage door is flung open, and you cower as best you can as you hear Blofeld demanding, “Take her!” 

You think that you may be greeted with the concern of one of your loyal knights, but shock and fear twine in your belly as an unfamiliar bandit shoves his face through the door. He gives you a sinister grin, showcasing his scant, yellow teeth before he grasps your wrist and yanks you roughly from the carriage. You scream as you’re dragged out into the cold, your face pelted with torrential rain. You try in vain to dig your heels in, struggling and tugged through the mud. You can hear a fight around you, the yowling of Blofeld’s commands in his thin, screeching voice. For all of your efforts, you’re pulled nearer and nearer to the tree line. You wobble, losing your footing as your toe catches on the root of a tree. You stumble, and are shoved to the ground as your attacker lets go of you. You shriek as he catches hold of your collar, yanking you along like a disloyal dog. 

You draw in tight breaths, hands scrabbling with your clothing. You hear the thudding of boots running through mud before you’re abruptly dropped to the ground. Looking up, you hear the singing of steel, and the clash of it makes you wince, the sound grating to your ears. You recognize one of the knights as one of Blofeld’s men, but you can’t make out which. It’ll win. You scramble to stand, hands suctioning to the mud as you push yourself up before hurrying away from the road, deeper into the woods too dark to see which one—and for as much trust as you have in their skill, you have no certainty that they’s. 

You pant as you run, looking back every few moments to ensure that there’s no one following you. When you see a shadow falling into step with you, your heart pounds impossibly harder, and you face forward, pushing your legs to pump harder than your screaming muscles ought to allow. Someone catches hold of your hand, and you scream as you’re yanked to turn. A gloved hand claps over your mouth, and familiar blue eyes catch on yours. 

Sir James hushes you, snapping, “It’s me!” 

You push his hand away from your mouth, heaving in greedy breaths. You glance around as you hear the clashing of steel, the shouts of men that must still be by the road. Sapped of speech by your panic, you allow him to pull you along through the woods, winding a path that you’ve never known and will never be able to remember. Night is falling as quickly as the rain tumbles from the sky, and it becomes harder and harder to keep up with Bond. You finally manage to yank your hand loose from his, leaning back against a tree. You’re weak with fatigue, and your lungs and legs are pained. Sir James turns to face you, glancing around the tree that you’ve leaned against. 

“We cannot stop, ma’am.” 

“I need—I need a moment,” You insist between pants, bracing your trembling body against the tree. Bond glances around you again, taking a couple more steps toward you cautiously. 

“We need to get to safety before these woods grow too dark to travel.” He shifts his saddlebag on his shoulder, glancing over you as well as he can. 

“Are you hurt?” He asks. 

“No.” 

“You’re shaking.” 

“I’m cold.” 

Sir James reaches out, gently sweeping a few drops of rain from your cheek. Heat pulses through you despite the chill, your lip wobbling a touch. 

“Your Majesty,” He urges, “I know that you are tired, but we must go. There is an inn not far from here. We will room there for the night, and then we will find a way back to the castle, or to the king.” 

The king. You hadn’t thought of Blofeld, had time enough to well up your righteous anger. It surges up so harshly and suddenly that it pushes your breath from your body in a harsh pant. You swallow thickly as the sound seems to rouse Bond’s concern. 

“Alright,” You concede softly, “Alright. But…Must we run so fast?” 

Bond’s lips twitch slightly, and you know that he’s fighting off amusement. 

“Perhaps not quite so fast, Majesty.” 

--  

The inn is a ramshackle little thing compared to the castle that you’ve become accustomed to. You can’t help your embarrassment as passersby cast you curious and pitying looks, taking in your mud-soaked garments and chilled body. Your confusion is jolted when you hear Bond’s barked argument, the slamming of his first on the table. You turn toward him and find him staring the innkeeper down. 

“I told you,” You hear Bond growl, “I will pay you in four days time.” 

“You pay me now, or you sleep outside, in the mud.” 

You start forward before you can stop yourself, yanking your wedding ring off of your finger and joining Bond at the table. 

“This will cover it,” You insist primly, pressing it into the inn keeper’s hand, “Along with firewood, and meals. We will need hot water as well.” 

The innkeeper seems stunned by the sight of the thick gold band encrusted with rubies. Shock radiates from Bond beside him. You keep your gaze on the innkeeper before you clear your throat firmly. The innkeeper snaps to, stumbling over himself to round the table. His words fumble, offering to take Bond’s saddlebag in the same breath that he urges you to follow him. 

-- 

The room is nicer than you expected, but only slightly. There’s a large bed across from a fireplace, with a wool rug in the middle. There’s a shallow washbin in the corner with a pile of linen beside it, and a bar of soap sitting atop the fabric. Bond waves the servants carting the water deeper inside, and nods innkeeper away as he tries to further offer services. Bond simply insists that food and wine is brought as quickly as possible. Once he’s gone, Bond lowers his saddle bag. He looks around, catching sight of a solid partition divider. He takes hold of it, moving it around to the basin and setting it in front. You watch him stride back to his saddlebag then, drawing off his gloves and tossing them aside before he begins to look through his things. After a few moments, he draws out a long tunic, and rises. 

“It…” His gaze drifts over your muddied clothing. “I’m sorry that it isn’t what you’re used to.”

You shake your head a touch. 

“It is clean,” You insist, “And at this moment, that is all that matters.” You pluck it gently from his hands, muttering your thanks before you round behind the partition. You remove your soiled garments one by one, wincing at the dried mud crackling and dirtying the floor. 

“If you give me your garments,” Bond’s voice rings out on the other side, “We’ll have them washed.” 

Embarrassment churns your stomach, but you force it back and away in favor of throwing them over the divider. You wince as it rocks, then puff out a breath of relief as it settles without falling. After a moment, the cloth slips over the other side of the partition. You wash yourself as thoroughly as you can, scrubbing away the muck and the sweat and the panic. You feel yourself relaxing incrementally. It doesn’t disappear fully; it can’t, with you fully bare on one side of the partition, and your protector fully clothed and waiting just on the other side. Your heart flutters in your chest when you hear him move, or sigh, or clear his throat. Once you’re clean, you pull the light grey tunic on. The fabric is a little itchy, but it’s a far cry from the fabric you’re used to—lighter, and…Shorter. It hardly brushes your knees. You go warm with nerves as you gaze at the expanse of your bare legs that will be revealed to him. You’ve really no other choice, and you try to make peace with that. 

You’re about to step from behind the partition when you hear the door open, and freeze. The murmur of Bond and the innkeeper’s voices exchanging food and soiled clothing drops away quickly enough, and is chased by the door behind closed again. You wait a few moments in testy silence before speaking up:

“May I come out now?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

You step out from around the partition, pointedly avoiding Bond’s eye as you walk to where plates laden with food have been set down on the wool rug. 

“Smells good,” You mumble, lowering yourself to the floor. When Bond makes no response, you glance warily uup at him. You thrill when you find his gaze sweeping your bare skin with covetous fascination. When his eye catches on yours, it lingers. You’re a touch stunned by his boldness, though perhaps you ought not to be. This man sees you every day—but not like this. He finally turns from you, mumbling that he ought to freshen up. You sigh softly once he’s moved behind the partition, scooching closer to the fire and letting your legs stick out straight, warming your feet with the heat coming from the hearth. You wiggle your numbed and chilled toes, resting back on your hands as you listen to Bond disrobe, then the babbling sound of cloth being pressed into water, wrung out, and, presumably, scrubbed across his body. 

What must he look like? You can only imagine—and you have imagined before. Seeing him at the tournament had only bolstered what you thought his body must look like, the expanse of muscle. Would there be a scar, or two? All accumulated before his squireship? Some during his knighthood, surely. 

When Bond rounds the partition, pink-cheeked from his vigorous washing, he seems surprised. 

“...Have you not eaten?”

You shake your head a little, pushing yourself to sit up straight. 

“I was waiting for you.” 

He seems even more stunned by the prospect, but he lowers himself to sit on the other side of the plates, and the pitcher of ale that had been brought up with the food. The taste is far sharper than the wine that you’re used to, and you just manage to stave off a wince. It warms you right through as well as the fire, and you take two deep swigs. You hear a soft huff, a warning of, 

“Perhaps you ought to slow, ma’am. You’ve had nothing to eat.” 

You grunt softly, setting the glass aside and using the long sleeve of the tunic to swipe at your messy mouth. The food isn’t much, but it is delicious. It’s nearly enough to fill you—and would be if there was only one of you there. Bond eats with less ravenous hunger than you do. Perhaps he’s less hungry; perhaps he’s doing his best to oblige you for the sake of how trying your day has been. Regardless, when you’ve finished, you lean back against the wall behind you. You point your toes again, wiggling and watching them as fatigue begins to creep up in the place of hunger. 

“...I will get you home safely.” 

Sir James offers it without provocation, and you wonder if your face has belied some concern, some confusion. You glance up toward him and find you watching him closely. 

“I am sure of it,” You nod. 

“And I am certain the king is well.” 

You laugh bitterly, then. You can’t help the way it falls from your mouth, or force it away again in the twist of his confusion. 

“I am sure,” You agree dryly. “I am sure he is well. God save him. God save the noble king.” 

If Blofeld were there, he would order your head struck from your shoulders. If Bond relayed your words, you were certain you would face the gallows. But now, with your belly fool and your head swimming slightly from panic and ale, you can’t bring yourself to care. You take your tankard up again, wincing at the scent that rises from it, the low slosh of liquid. 

“You shouldn’t have given that man your wedding ring,” Bond chides. 

“He told them to take me,” You tell him. “When those…Men,” You spit it, “Came to the carriage, the King told them to—” Your breath hitches in your throat, hand tightening around the tankard further. You raise it and swallow roughly as tears prickle your eyes. You set it aside once it’s empty, sniffling as the tears rise further. For all of his cruelty, Blofeld’s blatant disregard for your life was a step too far. How were you to know whether or not he’d set the attack himself? You’d always feared that he’d grown tired of you, your charms. 

You hardly registered the shift of Bond’s shadow until he’s standing over you.

“Are you still cold?” He asks softly. You nod, and Bond holds his hand out to you. You take it, allowing him to tug you to stand. You wobble a little, stilling only when his other hand rests on your hip to steady you. He tows you to the bed, and you let him push the covers back and nod you in. You scooch down against the mattress, pouting at the feeling of the odd piece of straw poking through. You watch as Bond turns his back, settling down on the wool rug again. You push yourself up onto your elbows, frowning. 

“Where will you sleep?”

He turns to look at you, brows furrowing a touch. 

“Here.” He gestures to the rug. 

“But,” You shake your head, “You’ll freeze.” 

“We’ve a fire.” 

“We’ll take turns.” 

“Ma’am.” 

“We will.” You use your most imperious tone, but he doesn’t so much as blink. 

“You need rest,” He insists. 

“As do you. If you fall ill…” You consider for a moment. You know this man, a little. You think you know what may spur him to action. You force a slight pout, urging: 

“What will I do without my protector?” 

Darkness flashes across Bond’s gaze. It’s another moment before he pushes himself up again, walking around to the other side of the bed. He pushes the covers back, carefully lowering himself to the other side of the bed and tugging the sheets up around the two of you. You glance over toward him and find him stalwartly watching the ceiling. You hesitate before you finally scooch a little closer. His gaze skates sharply toward you, and you bite your lip to silence your panic. 

“I’m still cold,” You mumble. Bond is quiet for a moment before he rolls onto his side, shifting closer. 

“Give me your hands,” He urges softly. You roll onto your side as well, holding your hands up from beneath the covers. Bond cups them, drawing them close and puffing his hot breath against them. Your fingers twitch in his gentle grasp, and you shiver softly as his lips brush against your fingertips. You well up your courage, your want, your sorrow, and turn an index finger toward his lips, pressing it gently there. It’s a moment before he presses a tender kiss to it. You gently draw it back as if moving too fast will startle him, turning your finger toward yourself and pressing a kiss to it in turn. Bond’s gaze drops covetously to your lips, his own parted as his grip tightens on your other hand. You shift a touch closer, brushing the tip of your nose to his. His eyes hold steady on your lips, even with you this close. 

“Your majesty,” He warns softly. 

“Sir James—” 

“We ought not to—” 

“Please.” 

Your plea seems to shock him. Perhaps he’s never heard a queen beg. Perhaps he can’t imagine her needing to. Perhaps what spurs him is his oath of fealty, to serve at your pleasure. Before you have any further time to question his motives, he dives in, pressing his mouth to yours. 

There’s far more heat to the embrace than you’ve ever felt with Blofeld, and it’s hardly more than a kiss. But James’ jaw grasps warmly at your cheek, holding you steady as he spears his tongue between your lips. You whimper softly, raising your free hand to slip into his hair and keep him close. He draws away with a slick sound, and before you can whimper or whine, he pushes you onto his back, covering your body with his own. You splay your thighs for him, whimpering as his warm, solid body settles over you. Your fingers grapple with the fabric of his tunic, nails catching in the odd snag. James kisses you with an almost ravenous force, as if there’s some great fire in him that only your lips can quench. 

James’ hips rock down against yours, and you quiver at the feeling of him hardening against your thigh. It’s not a sensation that you’re unfamiliar with, but you’ve never thrilled in the sensation in quite this way before. You tip your hips up toward him, letting out a pleading moan as your cunt throbs. 

You expect it to be perfunctory, and you’re resigned to it. For all of Bond’s passionate kisses, you’re content with a handful of quick thrusts before settling into sleep and silence. But Bond pushes the fabric of your tunic up, drawing it over your head and off. You lick your lips as his kisses skim over your neck, brushing along your clavicle, then drifting over the swell of your breast. You suck in a soft, stunned breath as his tongue swipes out, swirling around one of your pebbling nipples before toying it tenderly between his lips. You bite your lip, desperate to stifle your moan as his thigh presses against your core. You don't know what possesses you, but your hips seem to roll on instinct, chasing the tantalizing pressure. Some part of you brushes against the muscle of his thigh, and your hips give a jolt of their own volition. 

The sensation that ripples through you knocks loose an embarrassing moan. Bond’s smile goes rakish and wide, his hands and lips tenderly smoothing their way down your body. You’re dismayed as he draws his knee away, certain that your time together is nearing an end. But rather than spear into you as you expect, he pushes your thighs wide. You bite your lip as his finger trails gently over your slick, aching skin before you feel the tender brush of wet heat. You jump in shock, but Bond’s arm keeps your hips pinned to the bed as he gives your cunt another tender lick. Your body goes hot as you catch sight of his darkening eyes peering up at you in the dim light of the room. You push out a shaky breath, your hips giving an exploratory tip toward him. His eyelids flutter as he laves his tongue along your plumping lips. You slide your hands down over his head, chasing your stunned pleasure. Your mouth parts as you pant, as Bond laps and licks and teases you with his fingers and tongue. 

For every tumble into your marriage bed, you’ve never felt yourself come alive like this before. You’d been a virgin when you met Blofeld, and have only ever been with him. For the scant whispers that have made their way back to you in court, you’ve never heard that Blofeld has any additional vigor or passion with the other ladies at court. You’ve just assumed that that is what the act of lovemaking was: quick, simple, and unenjoyable. 

You’ve never been so happy to be so wrong. 

When James hikes your leg up around his hip and eases into you, your mouth drops open in a wail. He claps his hand down over your mouth, shushing you softly. His already-bright eyes are brighter still with mirth; his lips and chin are slick from his lapping and teasing; color is rising in his cheeks. 

“You don’t want them to know what we’re doing in here, do you?” He murmurs. “If they should learn whose ring that is, who you are…” He rolls his hips, “It’ll be both our heads.” 

You nod slightly in agreement, cunt throbbing as his hips begin to drive more roughly. Your mouth drops, and you pant hotly against the broad stretch of his palm. The odd whimper and whine still slip from your lips as James fucks you with an almost leisurely pace. You’re used to a shove, a harsh pounding, a spill—but James lowers his hands and strokes reverently over your body, loving you with an unhurried pace, as if he has all the time in the world. 

– 

Waking is slow going. You immediately feel that something is…wrong. Your bed isn’t nearly as soft as it normally is; you can hear the calls of voices below, bellows for breakfast, and hot water, and for someone’s horse to be brought. You draw in a deep breath, shifting and wincing as a piece of hay jabs at your back. You still as you feel someone’s foot brush yours, then draw in a quiet breath as you feel James’ lips brush your shoulder. You turn your head to find him still blinking the sleep from his eyes. You raise your hand, gently stroking over his cheek. He smiles softly, tipping his head toward you and pressing another kiss to your skin. You let your hand slide down from his cheek before you roll onto your side. James’ smile drops away for a moment as you nudge his shoulder, urging him on to his back. It blooms again as you slide your leg over him, straddling his thighs. You let your gaze drift openly down his chest, trailing your fingers over fading scars and raised scratches from yesterday’s fight. You bow over him, nuzzling into his neck as his hands smooth over your back. 

“How did you sleep?” He murmurs. You have to fight away a shiver at the sound of his voice, so much deeper than you’re used to hearing. 

“Well enough.” You brush your cheek against his, drawing in the still-lingering scent of the soap that he’d used the night before. 

“We’ll need to leave soon,” He warns. You don’t let him see you pout; you just hum your agreement as you tenderly draw his earlobe between your teeth, giving it a tug. You feel James’ hips twitch beneath you, and a little thrill curls in your stomach as James’ hands smooth over your thighs. Your body is a touch sore, but you know well enough that it’s a result from your stumbling through the woods as quickly as you could the day prior, and not from your night with your knight. You smile as James tips your head to the side, his nose nudging gently against yours before he catches your lips with his. You let out a happy little sigh, shifting atop him. Your cunt throbs as the apex of your thighs brushes against his muscled stomach. James’ hands raise to cup your cheeks, loosing a soft, encouraging hum as you begin to roll your hips down against him. 

Your night of tender care has brought out a boldness in you that you’ve tempered for a long time. James urges you on, his hands closing around your hips and guiding your aimless grinding. He eases you back after a few moment, your plumping cunt catching against your opening. 

You don’t need convincing, and he doesn’t need urging.

--  

You’d clung to him as long as you were able, but your grip had grown slack as the castle had come into view. Sir James had lowered his hand, resting it gently atop yours. 

“What do you say if he should ask where your wedding ring went?” 

“I lost it in the woods,” You mumble obediently. 

“And where we were?” 

“It was dark, and I can’t remember.” 

“Good girl.” 

You press your face into his neck, grip tightening around him again. 

“And if he should ask if you took care of me?” You murmur. James gives your hand a soft squeeze. 

“That answer is at your discretion.” 

--  

He isn’t happy that you’re alive. 

Blofeld manages to feign relief for a few seconds, but it quickly drops away, leaving behind an apparent disdain, one that you wouldn’t know if you hadn’t known him for so long. But you throw yourself at his feet, and sob, and swear that your only thought for days has been for his safety. 

Blofeld insists on staying with you on your first night back, but he hardly touches you. It’s not for a lack of trying. You force yourself to curl up to him, to rest your forehead against his shoulder and grasp his hand, dropping kisses to his skin and pressing as close as you dare. It’s a relief that he doesn’t take as he likes, knowing that Sir James is just on the other side of the door. 

--  

He’s been your shadow for so long, but he sticks even closer now. James is hardly a step or two away from you these days, close enough that you can feel the heat of him bleeding through his armor as he lingers behind you. 

Your bed is no longer cold in the evening, and James’ stool sits unattended. His body covers yours, his cock sheathed in your loving cunt as you bite your tongue and dig your fingernails into your muscles, silencing your moans and whimpers. 

You’ve never known what it was to be cuddled and held through the night, to wake up day after day with the press of lips to your forehead, a murmur of, “I must go,” and, “I shall see you soon.” He’s always at your side, in your bed, in your arms. Sir James gives you the constancy that you were meant to expect from your husband. It occurs to you that you are breaking your marriage covenant, that your actions may lead to trouble, to Hell. 

But as you peer up into James’ eyes, and tenderly swipe the beads of sweat from his forehead as his cock softens inside you, you realize that you’ll take your steps into the underworld happily. 

He begins to openly slight other women. Lady Vesper makes her advances. She flirts in the dining hall, and makes eyes as she sits with you and your other ladies maids. You can’t help but glance toward Sir James as she does, as she bats her eyelashes and pushes out her chest. They’re valiant attempts for a valiant man, but Sir James keeps his gaze focused ahead of himself, hardly flinching, not even bothering to give her a wink. It makes your smile widen villainously as you lean back in your seat, raising your book to cover your grinning face. 

--  

“They want you, you know,” You murmur. James shifts his head questioningly on the pillows, tipping his head to the side as you ghost your lips over his strong chest. 

“My ladies,” You clarify, waggling your brows. He smiles a touch, raising a hand to stroke your cheek. 

“I haven’t noticed.” 

“Oh, no? It’s been difficult for me not to notice,” You argue. 

“I’ve no interest.” 

“None?” 

James grasps your jaw gently, tipping your chin up to meet his gaze. His eyes bore warmly into yours, mischief and affection sparkling in his gaze. 

“Whose bed am I in now?” 

Your skin heats at the reminder. 

“Mine,” You murmur. 

“And you think I care for anyone else’s affection?” 

“Your king’s?” 

James gives you a shove that catches you off-guard. You land on your back, sucking in a gasp as he grasps your thigh and tugs you closer. You lay flat and open beneath him, heart pounding in your chest. 

“I have no king,” He swears. “Only you.” 

-- 

It’s Eve to notice it first, and it’s no great shock. You don’t think of it at first—you have other things on your mind. Your body is constantly aching; you’re so satisfied that you simply don’t think of it. 

But after two weeks—after she grasps your arm upon your waking and asks if your courses have stopped—your heart plummets. 

You don’t call for a doctor. You think that perhaps you’re merely late. But you know, deep down, that that simply can’t be it. You haven’t been with your husband in months, not since your birthday—not since you tried and failed to entice him on your return. There’s no doubt of whose it is. 

--  

James groans, shoving your hips more harshly against the castle wall as his hips push more insistently against you. You’ve taken your leave early from a banquet, pleaded your shadow to follow you into an alcove so that you might have a chance to talk, unable to wait until you reach your bed chamber. 

A child. 

His hands had grasped and tugged at your skirts, spreading you wide in the darkness and pressing into you as if he can give you another just now. You press your face into his neck, muffling your moans. 

“I have nothing but you,” He growls, sliding his hand down to smooth over your belly, “We have nothing but this.” 

-- 

“It isn’t safe for us here.” 

He murmurs it against your hair as he smooths his hand up your bare back. You consider for a moment, fingers trailing over his shoulder as sunlight begins to creep into the room. 

“Where could we go?” 

“France.” 

You frown, tipping your chin up to get a better look at him. His gaze is fixed on the ceiling as he adds, “Blofeld only has enemies there. We are to become traitors to the crown.” 

“We are already traitors to the crown.” 

James hums in soft concession, and you let your eyes slide closed. 

“When would we leave?” You mumble. 

“As soon as we possibly can ” 

“And how?” 

“You leave it to me.” 

“But James—” 

He looks down, running his thumb over your lower lip and silencing you. 

“Do you trust me?” 

You turn your head, pressing a kiss to his thumb. 

“Of course I do.” 

His smile widens as he ducks in for a gentle kiss. 

“Then you leave it to me.” 

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @amneris21 ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ;

[lowkeyrobin]

Hello! I was wondering if you could please do newt (platonic/familial) with a younger sibling who makes/mends close and personality wise is similar to Luz from TOH? Thank you! :D

yesyesyesyesyesywsyes omg please keep the maze runner requests coming I'm very very fixated atm kdk how to function, PLEASE SPAM ME W TMR REQS RJNENE ; anyways thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy!! ; post writing robin here, I tried with the personality like Luz but I struggled for some reason so I'm so sorry about that LMAO

NEWT ; clothing maker/mender

summary ; you make and mend clothing around the Glade, and Newt is somehow always there to help

warnings ; language, Newt is still a runner so pre-injury era

genre ; platonic fluff

word count ; 1.1k

masterlist

The day you came up in the box, you were frightened and felt like you didn't fit in with the other kids of the Glade. You were socially awkward and didn't know how to talk to people, although being a people pleaser.

Talking was just hard for you, but luckily, Newt understood. He tucked you under his wing and tried to help you fit in with the others, but to no avail. Nothing was sticking out to you, it wasn't like jobs were supposed to be enjoyable but you truly couldn't fit in anywhere. The fifteen year old boy with dirty blonde hair was there for you, though, reassuring you that actually becoming a Glader, even after remembering your name, took time.

Becoming a Runner was off the table at day one, you had zero stamina and could barely run for shit, let alone your life, you and Newt, and Alby, Minho, and the other Runners quickly agreed upon that. Being a Builder was quickly eliminated as well, because you didn't want to deal with obnoxious assholes like Gally, Hank, and Alec all day long. Plus, you knew nothing about "structural integrity" or whatever the hell they were talking about anyways, wood to hammer to nail was all you saw.

You quickly gained a friendship with Winston after a month or two in the Glade, but no way in Hell were you joining the Slicers either. You'd gain an emotional attachment to the animals much too quickly to then watch them die, the emotional despair would be a bit much at the moment. Bagger was also off the charts, leaving Med-Jack and Track-Hoe on the table for you.

Newt wasn't going to let you become a Slopper, considering you weren't bad at helping people nor farming, you just had to find your thing that you'd be comfortable doing. So, you settled on Track-Hoe as they needed more help in the gardens and you wouldn't mind getting your hands dirty, with dirt, that is. No blood.

You found, or maybe relearned, your nick for sewing one morning as you needed to repair your shirt, and ran straight to Newt with your new talent. After seeing it himself, Newt quickly bounced to Alby's side to ask if you could make mending and making clothes your job. You hadn't had any luck finding a job out of the many in the Glade, clearly, so this might've been your luck turning.

The next coming days were slow. Thankfully, Alby approved your idea of a new job, considering you and Newt wouldn't stop pestering him about it, and it'd be a great convenience to have you around for something as necessary as clothing. The builders graciously built you a little hut next to the Homestead to give you your own little place to go and work, instead of working around the Glade and potentially dirty-ing the clothes you fixed and made.

The hut consisted of a table, a loom, a hanging rack for finished projects, and a little chest system organized by all the threads, needles, etcetera. Alas, Newt was the one to help you with your new job on days when he wasn't running out in the maze. Minho switched him out with Ben or George on those days as per his request, as to help you learn how to talk to and understand the Gladers, whom you didn't understand too well yet.

But, by the time the next Greenie, Henry, arrived, you were right on track. You modeled and measured and patched and sewed your days away, finding peace in the seemingly boring activity. And by this time, Newt had become your brother figure and your best friend, considering how much he understood and supported you and helped you get some great opportunities around the Glade. And now, you were the Keeper of the Seamers, the only worker, but still the Keeper.

After a long day of running in the maze with Minho, Newt jogs to your expansion of the Homestead, desiring your help.

"Hey, Shank" He warmly smiles, closing the door made of sticks behind him. "How's your day been?"

You shrug in response. "Slow. Need me to fix anything for you?"

He awkwardly smiles and nods, looking down at his knees. His cargo pants are ripped, and the skin beneath painted a light red in comparison to his pale complexion, rug burns covering his kneecaps.

"Tripped and fell out in the maze" He explains, "Just don't want them falling apart because it kinda trailed 'round to the back" He says, tracing the little rips around his knees.

You nod. "I mean, the best solution would be keeping them like that or turning them into shorts for hot days. But I know the maze is cold and stuff, so, your call. I don't wanna ruin your running pants but I can always scrounge up new ones, and the next Greenie will be up in two days so it wouldn't be that long of a wait-"

"I'll just keep them ripped" He lightly smiles, cutting your rant off.

He knew damn well to not let you spiral over something so little, so he developed the radar to sniff out when you were about to rant about small things for an hour out of panic. He pats your shoulder before sitting down next to you, looking over at the rack of finished clothing you'd patched up and finished making.

"Oh, were you able to finish that shirt you were making for yourself?" He asks, running a hand through his hair.

Lord, he needed a haircut, although the best method of that was knives, which made it all choppy and blunt. Hopefully, WCKD would send up some cutting shears or something soon. All of your hair needed a cut desperately.

You nod, setting your needle and thread down to go grab it. You pull it off the rack and hold it to your chest. A simple, thin, off white, long sleeved shirt rests against your torso as you cheesily smile at him.

"Looks good"

"Thanks" You put the shirt back on the rack, deciding to put it back in the Homestead near your hammock later.

Newt was usually very supportive and went out of his way to show appreciation and reassurance for you, though making it casual to actually feel real for you. Once he found out that he needed to speak with you like that after reassuring that you'd live without rain, he learned the lesson.

Before you can speak again, Ben runs in, looking for your help.

"Y/n, I ripped up the sleeve of my shirt, can you fix it?" He asks, holding the grey-blue shirt up for you to see

"Yeah, sure, leave it on that table" You reply, pointing at the table in front of you.

"Thanks, you're the best!" He says, setting the shirt on the table before leaving.

Newt looks up at you and smiles, "You're getting used to talking to people, I see"

You nod, catching his infectious smile.

"Welcome to the Glade, Y/n/n"

[lightlycareless]

I've had this idea for a while ago , maybe you've said something similar but : Y/N piercing Naoya's ear 🤭❤️

Hello!!

Omg I've never thought of this before, I mean, y/n likes how good Naoya's piercings look on him, but helping him get another one? 😏 Now that's interesting.

Either way, here is a little drabble I wrote about that. How I think things would go down.

Warnings: fluff. Naoya is a lil bit of a prick. Mentions of nsfw activities.

Happy reading!!

Naoya's piercings are one of the many things that make him even more charming, undoubtedly.

However, you were already attracted to him, before the hair dye and the piercings, but when he got these two things together… it made you wetter far more intrigued by him.

Especially the piercings.

It's just… one of those things you never thought you'd see from him! Coming from a traditional household and all that.

But you're very glad he went through with them, because he looks very handsome, more than he already was.

And now that the two are finally together, you can happily gush about them to your heart's desire—something Naoya likes very much :)

How you carefully play with his piercings whenever you can, (it's almost relaxing for the two at this point), kiss them, help him clean them, or even choosing what stud would look good on him, and so on and so forth.

You really, really like them. There's no denying that. And with your admiration and care, Naoya eventually concludes you might be willing to pierce him too.

At first you were hesitant, knowing you weren't suitable for such a job; after all, you've never done anything like this before! Nor cared for, really. Often simply accompanying Naoya to designated businesses that employ such services, tend for him post-piercing, happily doing so, and that's about it.

“I don't know, Naoya… what if I hurt you?” You murmur, already set to reject him.

“You could never hurt me, my dove.” he reassures you, and with the soft way he spoke, alongside the loving look on his face… you concede.

For what becomes your biggest regret, no doubt, because while Naoya prepared everything beforehand, down to the smallest details, to make the job easier for both…

His teasing nature is something you'll never manage to escape from, even in moments like this.

“Are—Are you ready Naoya???” You squeak, holding the needle by the upper lobe of his right ear, the location of his new piercing.

“Why are you so nervous?” He chuckles “it's almost as if you're getting pierced”

“Don't mock me” you pout, pushing aside your nerves once more, whatever you could anyways. “... I'm going to do it now, then. Are you sure it doesn't hurt?”

“Positive” he says with a smile, placing his hand over your arm and gently squeezing it, to reassure you. “You'll do fine.”

You swallow.

“Ok” you nod. “I'm going to do it now…. One, two…—”

“Ah! Shit!” Naoya gasps, just when you gently push the needle against his skin, you quickly pull away.

“Oh my God, Naoya! Are you ok?! Does it hurt?!” You fret, eyes darting between his ear and face, a million terrifying, painful thoughts crossing your mind, debating whether to call an ambulance or not!

…

…

Only for those thoughts to immediately cease, emotions shifting towards confusion, and then anger, when he begins to laugh, revealing his reaction to be nothing more than a jest.

“You should've seen your face!” Naoya chuckles, clearly amused by your distress. While you… well, you were not.

“That's not funny, Naoya! I thought I hurt you!” You cry, smacking him on the arm. “Don't do that again!”

“Ah, it was just a joke, my love!” He laughs, catching your hand right before you can hit him again and placing a kiss on the knuckles. Naoya then relaxed back in place. “I promise I won't do it again.”

“... You better” you warn, ready to pierce him once and for all…

Unless he decided to irk out more of your reactions, shrieking when you do as little as place the needle in place, the slightest of pressure, or just about anything, and all the subsequent attempts.

So, naturally fed up and irritated by the nth time, you've decided to drop the matter all together and retreat, Naoya following you soon after .

“I'm just kidding, mochi! No need to get all worked up like that” he chuckles.

“I thought I was hurting you for real, Naoya!” You respond.

“I told you, you could never—”

“Well then, could you at least consider for a minute that I don't like seeing you in pain??” you breathe. “What if something happens and I don't take it seriously because you're always fooling around?!”

Silence, alongside guilt settling in Naoya's heart.

“I got really worried, you know that?” you add, he sighs.

Of course he knew that. Naoya must've, considering this was your first time doing something like this, and probably the last too thanks to his efforts.

But it wasn't intentional. At least not in the way he was acting.

Naoya thought that by reacting in such a careless way, he'd be able to convince you it wasn't that serious, just something that needed to be approached with care, and not as a high-risk surgery.

Though he greatly miscalculated, your reaction reminding him that your feelings for him were vastly greater than he anticipated, both moving him, and making him feel like the biggest douche in the world.

“I'm sorry” Naoya apologizes softly. “I was only trying to brighten the mood.”

“You have a funny way of doing that.” You murmur. “... I don't want to do it anymore.”

“I know.” Naoya smiles, taking a step closer to wrap his arms around you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “We'll just forget about this and move on.”

“But I still want you to get the piercing done” you say, looking up to him. You'd hate to be the reason he stops his plans altogether.

“I'll just schedule it another day” he responds with a smirk. “I still expect you to nurse me, though”

“...I always do.” you pout, leaning into his chest and embracing him back. “Pervert”

“Who's talking about that, Y/N?” Your boyfriend laughs. “Not only are you a fretting little thing, but also, a hugely perverted one…”

“You know exactly what you were talking about” you retorted. “...it's not like we do that every single time you get a new piercing. Or just because we feel like it…”

“Then I guess I'll just have to keep getting new ones” he shrugs, you shake your head.

“No! Not that many either!” You cry. “You look… very good with the ones you have right now… not too much, nor too little, just right.”

Naoya's heart skips a beat, always a victim to the unwitting way your compliments make him nothing but putty.

Amongst other things.

“Can't wait for you to see where I'm getting my next piercing, then.”

“It’s going to look really good! Your right ear was kind of lonely compared to the left” you say, reaching for his ear. “I'm really excited for it too”

“I was talking about something a bit more… discreet.” he smiles.

And a few seconds of silence, eventually catching up on his implication, you blush.

So... I genuinely think Y/N would say no to that hahaha I looked into it (a little) just to see how everything happens and it made me think: oof, too much. Y/N is surely freaking out.

Naoya would love it though, if he could get everything done with Y/N, it would be a dream. A perverted one. Sigh. How do they even accomplish anything? A mystery.

Anyways, I hope you liked this!!! Thank you so much for you patience and sharing this with me!!! 🥺💕 I'm slowly working through all the requests... Which I'm eternally grateful for 🥺❤️❤️❤️ goshahdkaishdoaka you don't know how flattered I am to be in your consideration 😭❤️

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[femme-from-hell]

Could I request HCs for the Lupin Gang (I didn’t see a character limit in rules but if it’s only one character at a time then Goemon) With a reader who often shows affection by just giving them random trinkets they find. Not valuable stuff just like Cool rocks, sea glass, this key chain that made them think of you, etc. just crow brain affection.

: ̗̀➛ Omg, anon, this is literally so cute!! I hope I did right by such an adorable request!

𓆩♡𓆪 Arsène Lupin III 𓆩♡𓆪

Lupin would be nothing short of enthralled by the fact that you gift him just the most random of bits and bobbles.

He keeps all of it, no matter what it is. He'll have a specific spot in his luggage whenever he travels to store them, or keep them in a little trinket box he keeps in the glove compartment of the fiat.

Lupin likes to keep your most recent gift as like a lucky charm in his jacket whenever he goes on a heist. If he's in a tight pinch during a heist, he'll worry it in his jacket as if it were a stress reliever. He just wants a little piece of you with him, a reminder of that he has to come back safe and in one piece :)

If you get him keychains, he will use all of them. At once. Like, you can hear him coming from a mile away at one point because he'll have so many charms on his keys.

I mentioned a trinket box in an earlier bullet, so I like to think Lupin would steal a really nice jeweled box to keep them in. Such precious things deserve an equally precious safe place!

If he loses/drops one of your gifts, he will do ANYTHING to get it back. Is pops on his tail? Tough shit, he's popping a U-Turn mod chase to go find the rock he dropped. In the middle of a shoot out with some villain? They can wait, because the sea glass you gave him earlier that day isn't in his coat pocket and that is way more pressing.

𓆩♡𓆪 Daisuke Jigen 𓆩♡𓆪

Jigen would initially be a little confused, like, why are you handing him this rock? But he would eventually understand, finding it cute.

Mentally, he compares you to a crow that likes to bring him shiny things. This thought never fails to bring a smile to his face.

He admittedly doesn't keep everything you give him, he's someone who prefers to travel light because of his line of work, but he'll keep a handful of trinkets you get him. If Lupin points out the cutesy charm handing from his phone or keys, he is swiftly silenced by a kick to the shin.

Jigen is pretty handy with a thread and needle after years of stitching himself and the others after some nasty injuries, so he absolutely sews a little pocket to the inside of his jacket to store your gifts.

When you give him these gifts, his appreciation is subtle. No big reaction, but more of a faint blush rising to his cheeks and a soft muttering of gratitude before tucking it away.

When he misses you, he'll absentmindedly fiddle with the gift he has on him at the time.

𓆩♡𓆪 Goemon Ishikawa XIII 𓆩♡𓆪

Like Jigen, I feel like Goemon would be a little confused but once you clarify its a gift, he'll act like you just gifted him the sun. Super serious with his face completely red. He'll accept it in a sort of awkward formal manner, but the whole ordeal is cute.

Goemon tries his best to keep all of your gifts, but since the man travels with his sword and nary another thing, he'll lose some gifts. The second he realizes he has though, he is nothing short of DEVISTATED.

He likes to have your gifts in his hands while he is meditating, finding that they bring him peace of mind.

Goemon gets really defensive of them, like if Lupin even thinks about touching any of the things you've gifted him, he's halfway through drawing Zantetsuken

I like to think that he would start mimicking your love language. Considering that he is out in the middle of buttfuck nowhere in the mountains whenever he isn't getting Lupin out of whatever mess he is in, he'll start taking notice of cool rocks he would find and pocket them, planning to give them to you when he sees you next.

𓆩♡𓆪 Fujiko Mine 𓆩♡𓆪

Look, this woman has been gifted the finest that the world has to offer, only to turn her head and scoff. But the second you roll up like, "Hey, I found this piece of Sea Glass, and the color reminds me of your eyes.", she would be absolutely and utterly infatuated.

She keeps EVERYTHING and she will be DAMNED if she loses a single on. Fujiko puts them in a carrying case that she keeps on her at almost all times of the day, unless she is going somewhere she might lose it.

She could be surrounded by suitors offering her diamonds and gold, but her eyes will be locked on you and the funky little rock in your hand.

Fujiko thinks it is just the cutest and loves everything you give her. When she's in a sour mood, she'll take out her case of your gifts and just look through them, thinking about you and smiling to herself.

On several occasions, Fujiko has saved the trinket box over Lupin or the others. She's a woman with priorities, how could you blame her?

She would want to get you something in return though, so something like a bag that you can wear while you walk on the beach looking for sea glass and shells, or through the woods looking for fun rocks or stray feathers.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ I really hope you like this! I had a blast writing this because I do the same thing honestly. If you enjoyed my writing, pls feel free to lmk what you think! *ੈ✩‧₊˚

[luckykiwiii101]

i’ve been testing out the void state and i listened to some audio waves and just kinda chilled, i was going between affirmations and my thoughts with a lot less stress than usual (this is so important because usually i’m like “am i doing this right” “am i breathing too fast” “am i not doing THIS right” and blah blah blah) this time i was just kinda breathing listening to the waves and working through doubtful thoughts, just affirming when i felt i should. i did literally everything based of MY comfort and MY thoughts. And i noticed i just felt a lot better than i usually did when i try right, i was like oh hey let me try to distract myself(bc of the distracted method) so i just started singing cake by melanie martinez cause i loved her in middle school and it’s the only song i could immediately think of (that i knew start to finish) for some reason???😭 (this is weird because i literally know sooooo many songs, anyways) so i’m just jamming out and out of NOWHERE my whole body just like shifted (the only way i can describe it). It’s like out of nowhere i felt so weird i don’t know if i can accurately describe it but imagine like pins and needles but over your whole body and it doesn’t hurt it was just like woah where’d that come from. My heart started RACING and i was like “omg im gonna go in now omg omg omg” and i was just trying to calm my heart down because it was beating like 1234 instead of the normal 1..2..3..4 and i KNEW i needed to focus on literally anything else. i swallowed a couple of times and just focused on calming myself because i was like “wtf is going on” and i just felt everything and tried to keep myself in this state so i could find my footing and be calm while in it. By this point the song was long gone😭 i’d already finished it and i started to go through my thoughts of things are really gonna be different once you get out will you be ready? and i was affirming that i will and i deserve this and it’s okay and i started seeing flashes of what i’d be like and things i’d have again and i told myself that even if i didn’t get in right now i’d get in tonight when i sleep. eventually the feeling was gone (probably because i focused on it ((maybe??) and i kinda liked just sitting there for a bit ( i had stopped moving and i was laying on my side in the fetal so i was in like peak comfort but eventually i just moved and went back to doing what i was doing before. i will say that every time my tv went between ads and the screen went dark (making my vision dark) i fell more into this weird fuzzy state. overall it was crazy and i would love to hear anyone’s thoughts on this. i’m gonna tag some creators i follow because i would love some guidance and perspective:)

You were really close to entering the void state. You were in the before state. Don’t focus on the symptoms and just focus inwards. Not on your physical body and you’ll enter the void in no time.

[lucllle]

Hi hi! I have a request, if its ok ☺️

Would you be willing to write a dragon!zhongli (like half ykyk) and a dragon!reader where theyre both in heat and its just feral 😋 fem/afab reader please

you are SO RIGHT OHMY GGOD?? you're a genuis omg

needles to say.. lots of nsfw under the cut xx

i havent written one of these in a WHILE so im sorry if its not as good as the other dragon zhongli one </3

cw: breeding kink, dragon!reader x dragon!zhongli, and probs more

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You had watched over Liyue for centuries; watching over it as if it was your own region. You did it as if it was second nature, perhaps because it brought you closer to the man you admire the most. 

Morax. He was the epitome of perfection to you, flawless in all ways. This feeling started developing only when you witnessed him in the archon war. Despite him being part of the same species as you, he always had more potential and just seemed unreachable. 

But as soon as you saw him in battle, something changed. It all felt so primal, as if he was truly turning to his feral side. You couldn’t help but imagine whether or not he’d turn to his primal urges just like any other dragon, and the thought alone flustered you. 

So when a deep scent flooded your senses, you looked around frantically. It couldn’t be true, could it? It all felt too familiar, and almost overwhelming. You quickly left the restaurant you were eating at, stumbling into an alleyway to regain your composure. On your way out, near one table specifically, the scent grew especially strong. 

You didn’t get a good look at him, but who else would it be? No one else could have such a strong effect on you, could they? You placed your hand over your mouth, taking a few deep breaths. 

Then, the scent began growing stronger. A gentleman looked into the hallway before walking up to you, smiling. It was him. You had to keep calm.

“ Hello. It’s been a while, has it not? “ 

“ I suppose it has. How have you been faring, Morax? “ 

“ I’ve been well. I’ve been hoping to meet you again, though. However, I am concerned. Are you perhaps ill? You seem rather flushed. “ 

You opened your mouth to respond, but you were at a loss for words. You could feel your face becoming flushed while you stared into the man’s eyes, desperately trying to come up with a reasonable response. He soon seemed to come to a realization, raising his eyebrows as he inhaled. 

“ I see. Have you experienced your cycle in the past millennium or so? My presence with that combined may be what’s flustering you. ‘ 

“ No, I haven’t. I haven’t been around anyone else of our species, either. I’m sorry, this is truly… unbecoming of me. “ You stared at your feet, but your embarrassment was interrupted by him clearing his throat. 

“ Perhaps I could be of some help. I haven’t had my cycle in a millennium either, but your scent is beginning to seem intoxicating. I believe that we’re both going to enter our cycles not too long from now. “ 

You looked back up at him, only to see his face slightly flushed. Was he shy? That’s cute. 

“ I couldn’t possibly ask such a thing from you, Morax. “ You held your breath when he took a step closer, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. 

“ Then think of it as me asking it from you. I cannot stay in Liyue Harbor during my heat cycles, yet I have many responsibilities here I must attend to. However, if you don’t feel the same urges I am starting to feel, that is by all means alright. “ 

His eyes were almost enchanting. You tried to seem like you had at least a little bit of dignity, but in truth you’d bend over for the man here and now if he so desired.

“ …Where should we go, then? “ 

“ I think my lodgings would suffice, no? Or do you have anywhere else in mind? “ 

“ No, your lodgings will do just fine. I’ll follow you. “ 

And just like that, Morax wrapped his arm around your shoulder before practically dragging you to his home. Had it not been for him holding on to you, you probably would’ve been left behind. Your mind felt scattered, and you tried your best to keep your composure but it felt nearly impossible. 

By the time you had arrived at his front door, he held you up by your waist while you gripped his hand. Part of you was embarrassed to be so delirious while he kept his composure completely, but you were seriously about to sleep with the man of your dreams. Mate, even. 

He fumbled with his keys for a few seconds, his face flushing when he looked over at you. He opened the door, leading you inside before closing the door and locking it. He turned to you, letting out a shaky breath before taking his coat off. 

Morax pulled you closer by the waist, cupping your face with his idle hand. He seemed deep in thought, furrowing his eyebrows first. 

“ Let us shower beforehand, okay? “ 

You simply nodded in response. You could manage that much, right? And you did. You gave yourself the best cleaning of your life, but you still couldn’t fathom that you were really in his washroom. It didn’t take very long for you to get out, and Morax had already shed himself from most of his clothes. At this point, his draconic tail and horns were no longer hidden, just like yours. 

He came back shortly, this time only a towel wrapped around his waist. You had a towel on as well, and sat patiently on the edge of the bed until he walked in front of you. 

“ I took the time to prepare water, food, and emergency medication while you were in the shower. Are you having any doubts? “ 

“ I’m no human, I don’t need those things… but thank you. And yes, I’m sure about this. “

“ Are you certain? Let us stop while I- “ 

You cut him off by standing up from the bed, grabbing one of his horns to pull him down and kiss him. He let out a surprised groan, falling on top of you. You were much more timid before, so it took him by surprise when you tugged at his towel. 

You ended up straddling him, tossing your towel aside on the ground while staring down at him. You grinded against his length, the tip poking out from underneath you. 

“ I’ve been waiting for this, Morax. “ He gripped your hips, staring up at you. 

“ Oh? Have you been fantasizing about this for long? “ He started to move you against his cock, the precum spreading onto his stomach. 

“ Very much so. “ You lifted yourself from him, your thighs now moist from your slick. And just like that, you positioned yourself before dropping yourself onto him, the entry feeling heavenly. 

He let out a surprised groan, his legs tensing up. You leaned down to bite his neck, wrapping your arms around him before you started moving. You could feel his fingers trembling against your skin, almost as if he was unable to do anything at all. 

“ Ah… I needed this so, so bad. “ You whispered into his ear, grinding against him whilst you spoke. You sat back up to stare at his face, noting that he was extremely flushed and delirious. 

“ You’re beautiful like this, Morax. “ You brought your hand to his face, thumbing his bottom lip before leaning in and kissing him. He returned the kiss with a newfound fervor before flipping you over, bringing your legs to your chest. He backed up, grinning at you. 

“ I’ve never let anyone have their way with me before. Perhaps you could be the exception, dear. “ His honeyed words flustered you, especially the endearing nickname. Before you could even respond, he gripped your legs tightly and started thrusting. You wrapped your arms around him, clawing at his back. He inhaled sharply, hips stuttering. 

He brought one of your legs over his shoulder, licking your calf before he continued pistoning into you. You slipped one of your hands into his hair, pulling his face back a bit. He let out a small groan, staring down at you with a grin. He placed his head on your shoulder, eyebrows furrowing when he started getting close. 

The way you gripped onto him made him practically see stars, especially with the increased sensitivity. When you grabbed onto his horn again and yanked him back to see his face, he unraveled completely, taking you down with him. 

He spilled inside of you, riding out both of your orgasms with smooth, languid thrusts. However, it only took a few seconds for the two of you to recover. You smiled at him. 

“ I hope you don’t think we’re done here. “ 

“ I’d be foolish to believe that. “