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#before anyone pops a blood vessel
trashyspud330 · 1 year
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I’m mostly joking but then again not really
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thebibliosphere · 10 months
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Every time someone well-meaning suggests I see a chiropractor for my migraines, I have this little moment of "ah, you're new here. You weren't here prior to 2018 when a chiropractor very gently adjusted my neck for my migraines, and I ended up having to get an emergency MRI because the ensuing symptoms were indicative of a brain bleed."
It wasn't a brain bleed. The muscles on the entire right side of my neck "just" tore (Spoiler there is nothing "just" about that kind of traumatic injury. I am still in physical rehab for it), and I couldn't hold my head up, see straight, walk or do any of the things I'd previously taken for granted until several weeks later when the area finally started to heal.
This was before I knew I had Ehlers Danlos, btw. But this is true even for people who don't have a connective tissue disorder: Don't let chiropractors touch your neck.
There are a lot of vital nerves and blood vessels there, and even gentle adjustments of the area can have life-threatening consequences.
I know chiropractic care can be pain relieving--I still get it for my lower back and hips because I work with a chiropractor who knows about Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, and sometimes my hips need to be popped back in at short notice, and it's easier to hop walk in and see her than wait for physical therapy--but it is a short-term relief that doesn't actually correct why something is happening.
If you can afford it, physical therapy will likely help more in the long term. I know not everyone can afford it, and that's why chiropractors have such a booming trade in the US, but please, I'm begging you, don't get your neck adjusted.
The spinal cord specialist I saw after my injury told me the number one reason he used to see people for traumatic brain injuries was car wrecks, followed by other major roadside injuries. He said those numbers were still the highest, but after that, the majority of his patients were survivors of chiropractic injury.
Do Not Get Your Neck Adjusted.
It's been over 5 years, and I still can't move my neck properly on my right side. I still struggle to eat and drink because my muscles will randomly seize up. It feels like my skull no longer fits on top of my spine because of the scar tissue. Please. I just want people to be safe.
And if you are a chiropractor reading this and thinking, "Well, I've never injured anyone, skill issue." No. You Have Gotten Lucky. Rethink how you apply your trade. Please, you can still help people while recommending safer options for specific body parts. Learn to do pressure point release and acupressure. Teach patients how to stretch and relax the area safely. Just fucking stop cracking people's necks like pop rock candy.
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luminiamore · 1 month
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hiiii i really liked your suguru hoochie fic and i was wondering if you could do one with ony where she’s like a tomboy and she has a smart mouth and fights a lot but when she gets with ony he makes her chill out when she start to act up.
thank youuuuuu🫶🏾
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best friend ony x black tomboy reader
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warnings: a bit of angst in the beginning? fam issues, reader can throw hands, car sex, angry sex a little, overstimulation, best friends to lovers, a teensy bit of manipulation? if you squint
a/n: hope you enjoyyyyy :33
masterlist
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Second year, first semester. You honestly were starting to get tired of this hell people call college. You were drained, which was weird since you loved what you were there for. Fashion design has been your passion ever since you were a child. It was nothing out of the ordinary for anyone in your family to see you declare that as your major after being admitted to FIT, one of the best fashion schools in New York.
Your parents, comprising a lawyer and the top doctor in the city, fully supported you in pursuing your dreams. They were impressed by your decision to launch your own fashion line, and before you even reached your third year in college, you had already established your own business. 
The outcome was much more successful than anticipated, making your first $100k in less than 2 months. However, there are drawbacks to being raised in a traditional Haitian family. 
‘Tifi pa mete gwo pantalon konsa.’ Girls don’t wear big pants like that.
‘Buy that skirt. Ou bezwen abiye tankou yon dam.’ You need to dress like a lady.
It was a broken fucking record, and you were tired of hearing it. You would call them out on it, never being one to hold your tongue. Your parents scolded you for that, too, telling you that no one likes a lady who always has someone to say. You swear you would pop a blood vessel if you heard another one of their lectures.
Of course, you never wore the skirts or dresses they would waste their money on for you. Your family’s Christmas gifts would be just that now. You couldn’t help but want to hurl when you saw pastel-colored tops, the shortest skirts you’d ever seen, and dresses that made you shiver in discomfort.
They weren’t ugly. You recognized the beauty in them when other people wore them. But putting them on your body made you visibly uncomfortable. You always felt awkward in them, and you realized that while you loved your parents, you couldn’t change how they viewed things. 
So, you moved out. After six months of telling your parents you were leaving. They never believed you. On a warm summer evening, you packed all of your ‘ti gason’ clothes, as they like to call them, and made your way to the high-rise apartment that you paid a deposit on three weeks ago.
You were happy. I mean, you had no reason not to be. Your parents came around to you not being home anymore, your business was doing exceptionally well, and your best friend was taking you out to eat later tonight.
You were happy. 
So, why are you leaving room 109 on the verge of tears after being scolded by your Fashion Management professor for missing yet another assignment?
You were at your limit. You weren’t by any means sensitive, always known for being quick on your feet. Usually, when there is a problem, you are the first to fix it. You were smart, having a high 3.9 GPA, and are even on the principal’s honor roll. That didn’t stop you from getting into a few fights here and there. 
Now, you were by no means were you the type of bitch always looking for a fight. But the girls at your university were bullies, and unfortunately for them, you don’t take no bullshit. Not from your parents, and certainly not from them.
You should be a MMA fighter with how these women are left twitching after you’re done with them. And you probably should’ve been expelled, but you were one of the school’s head designers. It would look bad on their part if they let you go, which is why you’re still here. Utterly drained, hungry, and twisting your personal locker open.
“Yo!” 
You hear a loud shout from behind you. You take a pause from stacking your latest edition of the Vogue magazine, featuring your designs, in the plain navy blue locker. Nah, not me. You really weren’t in the mood today.
“Excuse you, miss. With the big ass pants,” You entirely stop all your movements and take a deep breath in. Not fucking today. 
The outfit you wore was cute, you looked adorable. Standing with a basketball jersey shirt you stumbled upon while thrifting a week ago and oversized jeans. Your new blue Balance 550s were free of scratches and fit perfectly with your mid-calf length socks. Your bohemian braids are tucked into a messy updo, and your vintage jewelry completes your look. You were bad, and no amount of bullying from insecure women could ever make you feel different.
You continue ignoring the person. Your best friend of five years, Ony, told you not to get into any more fights. He said you were too bright for that, that they only wanted a reaction out of you. On any other day, you would’ve taken his concerns into consideration. Today was absolutely not one of those days. Today was one of the days where if someone said the wrong thing, you wouldn’t flinch before knocking their head off their shoulders.
To be honest, he should’ve known better; you always had a short temper. 
Still, the whiny voice pesters you until they got right within your vicinity. “I know you hear me talking to you,” 
Your method of ignoring is futile now; the girl was so close you could smell the cheap Victoria’s Secret perfume she over-sprayed. You were forced to turn to your right and face the culprit, your sharp eyes squinting at the girl.
You notice you’ve never seen her before. She wasn’t drastically shorter than you, maybe an inch or two. Even you knew, though, you could spank her with no problem. She was pretty, but her style was the complete opposite of yours. Her brown skin was well-compensated by the short pleated cream skirt she wore, and the bow-shaped crop top caused you to look twice at her tits.
You would’ve forgotten that she approached you all hostile if she didn’t put her pink glossed lips together to say her following words.
“You fucking with my man?” Didn’t I mention that you have never seen this girl a day in your life? How the fuck were you supposed to know who her man was? You’re stuck in a dilemma, a mind fucking dilemma. 
Should you walk away and be the bigger person, or should you indulge in whatever this was and risk listening to what would be your second lecture of the day from Ony? You shiver at the thought alone. You don’t think you can take another earful. 
“Y’know what? I don’t even think it was right of me to ask,” Thank you. You internally think you wouldn’t feel bad for fucking up someone’s daughter today.
“Yeah, there’s no way Ony would go for someone like you,” 
Silence.
There was an apparent silence among the crowded halls, everyone stopping what they were doing to stare at the two of you. Damn, does no one mind their business?
You weren’t lying earlier. You really didn’t have an issue with people dressing in the opposite way of you. In 2024, you have a fondness for the way humans express themselves through their clothing. What you didn’t like was how girls with the most basic outfits known to man would think they were better than you.
And did this bitch just call Ony her man?
Your anger was rising slowly the more you thought about it, and you were bout ready to strangle this girl. 
“Excuse me?”
Your usual sweet tone sounded almost chilly amid the suffocating tension. Everyone around the school knew who you were; being a fashion designer made the public eye fixated on you. Your fights were a natural source of mass attention. That was what all of your 1 million fans on Instagram liked about you, the fact that you never lost.
She had the audacity to keep talking. “Yeah, I mean, look at you. You should dress more like a-”
It’s a shame, really. You really didn’t want to fight today. Your fist went swinging before your mind even processed what was happening. It was a little uncanny how you didn’t let the girl get any punches; it was simply hit after hit. Were you at 7 now? Or maybe it was 10? You couldn’t tell. 
This wasn’t because she was weak; it took about two solid punches to the face before she fell down. But you were just so heated. That comment made something snap in the deepest crevices of your bone. There was an intense sobbing from underneath you, and in the corner of your cloudy vision, you saw pecks of blood staining your knuckles. 
You didn’t get to finish your assault on the poor girl; in a split second, you felt an arm snatch you up from your stomach. You raise your head from what feels like someone’s shoulder- Why was everything upside down?
You heard a deep mumbling in the midst of the cheers coming from the hallway, something along the lines of “Never fucking listen,”
Ony?
It seems you voiced your thoughts out loud because the 6’3 man responds with a quick, “I don’t wanna hear shit till we get home.” 
Your thoughts were jumbled, and you didn’t have a clear head. You were angry. You were an angry black woman, and you had every right to be one. Ony is your best friend, not your father. So, you were stuck trying to figure out just who the fuck was he talking to?
In a hiss, your voice whispers by his diamond stud earring, “Who the fuck- Are you crazy? Fuck ass nigga, put me down!” you start sending harsh slaps on his back, the fabric of his white tee swaying. But he wasn’t budging; not a single hit swayed him.
Your words must have been a source of tension, causing him to finally put you down. The blood rushing from your body into your head makes your vision hazy, and as you look around, you realize you’re in the school parking lot. Alone. Alone with Ony.
He doesn’t let the thought simmer in your brain, not when you’re more concerned about the fact that he has a tatted hand on your throat and just pushed your body to the nearest concrete wall. 
“Watch that mouth. You should know better, Y/n.” 
His voice is more calm now, though you can hear the underlying irritation. You’re both glaring at each other, your breathing audibly heard amid the empty oversized garage. His grip on your throat is making you feel things, things you shouldn’t be feeling for a best friend. 
You were never intimidated by Ony, and he knew it when you continued glaring and uttered, “Get the fuck off of me,” You try grasping at his arm, but he’s quicker than you. Ony doesn’t hesitate to put your arms above your head, the scent of his YSL cologne filling your senses. 
Is he- Is he closer than before?
“Nah, you’re not getting out of this one.” He pressed into you harder, and it was getting a little difficult to breathe. His body heat somehow mixed in with yours, creating a heated symphony. You knew it was coming, another scolding. At this point, you were starting to think you’re 9 again.
“What did we talk about yesterday, ma?” His voice goes an octave lower, and you’re almost sure he’s doing this purposefully. You roll your eyes, refusing to let him see the effect he was beginning to have on you. You decide you don’t even want to let him hear your voice.
Ony doesn’t hear a peep out of you, and after 10 seconds, he loses his patience, “You deadass? Don’t make me fuck you up, Y/n.” You feel the hand on your throat squeeze tighter twice as if he’s warning you. Damp are the only words to describe what your panties are experiencing right now. 
Still, you keep up your facade. Ony can see right through you, though, you’ve never had someone put you in your place. You’ve never had someone match your energy like he did. It usually never got this bad; Ony never got upset with you after a fight he had to pull you from. A calm talk and a little praise got you to calm your nerves.
This was before you got the fame you have now. Ony thinks, no, he knows, that you’re going to be much bigger than you already are. And he doesn’t want you being held back by some petty fights. He always told you if you ever had a problem, go to him first, and he’ll always handle it. 
But you wanted to be stubborn. You weren’t used to someone taking care of you, relieving some weight off of your shoulders. Being the first-born daughter issued a connection with hyper-independence. And all Ony wants to do is engrave in your pretty little head that he’s got you. And he always will. He genuinely cannot understand why you make it so difficult for him.
“I’m not in the mood, Ony. Let me go-” He cuts you off, coming closer to your soft lips. 
“I don’t care, Y/n. Talk it out right now, or I swear we’re not leaving this parking lot.” He read you like a book; he knew you were trying to run away from him. To dismiss this and to never bring it up again. He was done doing that, and the attitude you’ve been giving him ended today. He’ll fix it for you by whatever means. 
You knew Ony meant his words in the least sexual way possible. Yet, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering, why does he look so good? The thin gold chain you gave him for his birthday last year makes his brown skin stand out. Through your adrenaline haze, you didn’t even notice what he wearing. 
It’s sinful. How the outfit you know he barely put thought into putting on makes you want to pounce.
A white tee that alone made your breath stutter with the way his abs pressed through. You could make out the outline, damn. Black sweats that sit so low, the white Polo Ralph Lauren briefs he had on were teasing you. 
It wasn’t your first time having these thoughts, but moments with Ony made you think this way often. 
When you guys would smoke together, and Ony would feed you the blunts, his eyes would never leave your lips. When he would come over and cook with you, small brushes behind your hips. You would always brush it aside; that wouldn’t be appropriate for a best friend to think. You were just best friends, right?
You’re questioning everything because of this moment. This isn’t what best friends do. Why is his hand squeezing your throat? Why is he pressing his body flush against you? 
Most importantly, why aren’t you stopping him? Why is this making you so fucking wet? You know, if you told Ony you were uncomfortable, he would back off in a second. But you weren’t. The only thing making you uncomfortable is the slickness you can feel drip down the fat of your soft thighs. 
Your next words leave him stunned, “Well, I guess we’re not leaving then.” 
When your words register in Ony’s brain, he moves quickly. Whispering a stern, “Bet.” With a smile on his handsome face. As if he knows something you don’t. After grabbing you by the throat and letting go of your hands, he swiftly moves to his car, an all-black Scat Pack. 
This was honestly your fault. The position you were in, your back arching perfectly, and your slobbering pussy receiving the deepest back shots from Ony’s long dick. You were scrambling in his back seat. You’ve already came twice due to his fingers, and his precision in piercing your squishy spot would make you cum again. You weren’t even sure you could.
You tried running away from the pleasure, pleading for him in your shaky voice to just “G-give me a b-break! I can’t-” 
It wouldn’t be a punishment if he did, now would it? His hands would only grip the sides of your hips harder at your words; it would probably leave a dent mark. Ony was letting his dick stir up your insides because he needed to teach you a lesson. It seems this is the only way your mouth wouldn’t retort anything to him.
“Not happening, mama. All you needed was some dick, right?” Heavy pants fill the air, and you start seeing smoke fog up his tinted car windows. Ony was honestly losing himself with how tight your pussy was squeezing him. He doesn’t know why the fuck it took him so long to get you like this. It’s all he ever dreams about. 
Making you scream out his name, making you cream all over his dick as he makes you take what he knows nobody could ever give you. Fuck, he swears he’s in love with your fat cunt, with you. “Don’t it feel good when I fuck you like this?” 
The more he kept talking, the more you felt like you were losing your mind. You didn’t know if he wanted an answer. But you were already gone, high off the pleasure his fast pace was giving you. You had no control over your lips when they parted and screamed, “S-so good, Ony! Oh-fuck. It f-feels so-”
He went faster at your words, and your mouth was dripping with drool as your face pressed firmly against his leather seats. After the fifth attempt at pushing him away, he tied your hands behind your back with the durag he wore. You had nowhere to run. You were forced to take Ony’s mean pumps inside your folds.
He pulls you up by your hair, never stopping his assault on your battered pussy when he whispers, “I know, ma. I always make you feel good, yeah?” 
He slithers a hand to your throat and another down to your twitching clit. Rubbing so fast, your squirt was coming out in small streams. Your sinful sobs made his body shake while he was inside you. God, your pussy was so heavenly. So wet and perfect, he never wanted to pull out.
You squirm under him, “So good! Make me- Ouuuu shit- feels so f-fucking good,” Your body was shivering, you didn’t even realize you were coming. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as your stomach clenched so hard it hurt. Your pussy mirroring around his aching thrusts, you were fucking up his seats. He didn’t mind; he just wanted to make you forget everything that happened today.
You thought it was over; you thought he would stop or, at the very least, slow the fuck down. But he never let up on your poor pussy, he just kept feeding you his strokes, and he kept rubbing your puffy clit. “So, why don’t you fucking listen? Don’t you love me?”
The anger he felt earlier was coming back, and you could feel it with the way his fat dick was penetrating you so good, so deep. The tears falling down your cheeks came down ten times harder, your clit couldn’t take anymore. Why was he fucking you like this?
“I do! I- I love you- so much, Ony! I’ll listen- I swear! P-please just-”
Ony could feel his heavy balls twitching as he fucked up into you, he was going to cum. He knew you loved him, but hearing you say it. Saying those words in such an intimate position, he doesn’t think he can hold back anymore. He just wanted to dump his seed past your lower lips.
“Yeah? You’ll listen, t’me?” You nodded so quickly before your brain even registered his words. He was pushing you past your limit, your pussy being so overstimulated that your next orgasm was just seconds away from wetting his seats even more.
“Y-yes- Fuckkk! I’m coming.” That was his only warning before your pussy sprayed all over, and your sticky cream coated his dick. Ony groaned deeply in your ear, the hand on your throat giving one final squeeze before he came so deep you swear it was touching your womb. 
There was nothing in the air but heavy breathing. Your body, weak and unable to hold itself, fell back against him when Ony let you go. His following words break the silence, 
“I love you too, mama.” You feel your heart squeeze, but he doesn’t stop there. “I’m getting you some food before we get home, and allat’ best friend’ shit is dead, by the way. You’re mine now, okay?” 
He presses a chaste kiss to your wet cheeks as you lay against him. It was a trip. He fucked you all crazy like that but then spoke to you in the most gentle tone possible afterward. You couldn’t process it. You can’t do anything but nod, your mind still barely processing what he just did to your body, to you. 
What were you upset about again?
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1K notes · View notes
shadowlali · 10 months
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pure temptation
COD - Alejandro Vargas x fem!reader
[18+] wc: ~2.1 k summary: Coronel Alejandro Vargas cannot resist the mayor’s daughter masterlist
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warnings: NSFW, no use of Y/N, Alejandro is taller and can pick reader up, reader has long hair but other than that no other physical descriptions, some proofreading, age gap (f!reader in her 20s and Alejandro is in his 40s), oral (f! and m! receiving), slight spanking, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie
The one temptation Alejandro tries to deny himself is you. He knows it's wrong to feel a deep need for the mayor’s daughter. While Los Vaqueros don’t need permission from your father to operate within Las Almas, there is still a respected alliance.
How would it look if he's caught with the mayor’s daughter? Alejandro is older, with enough responsibilities to keep him occupied. He can’t risk the scandal. But, has he not given so much of himself to this town? To the people? Alejandro deserves this. He deserves you. He's been alone for so long.  
You grew up in Las Almas. It's a place you're proud to call home, especially now. All the work done by Los Vaqueros to rid the place of El Sin Nombre has paid off.
-
You had never met them until the night of your father’s victory party at the plaza. That’s when you crossed paths with Coronel Alejandro Vargas. You were a little flustered when introduced to him. He was tall with broad shoulders and a self-assured presence. He wasn’t like anyone you’d met before. When he leaned in for a hug and a kiss on your cheek, he lingered a little longer than what was considered polite.
You didn’t miss the way his hand slowly slid away from your lower back, as if he didn’t want to let go. It was difficult not to steal glances at him throughout the night. You imagined those arms of his being able to hold you up while losing himself completely in your body. 
-
You’ve been so good your entire life. The perfect daughter, friend, neighbor – whatever it is, you are. Your dad never lets you out of his sight, claiming it's for your own good. None of the men in Las Almas are good enough for his daughter, according to him. You're tired of sneaking around with boys who don’t know how to please you.
Coronel Alejandro Vargas looks like he knows exactly how to please your needy body. Your father would pop a blood vessel if he found out you're attracted to Alejandro. That isn’t going to stop you.
It's not hard to figure out the schedule of Los Vaqueros’ weekly runs into town for supplies. Your sundress is short and flowy, reaching the top of your thighs. You walk over to the local store, hoping to catch Alejandro before they leave. As you round the corner, a hard body collides with you. 
“Careful, muñeca,” a deep voice says as firm hands wrap around your waist. [doll]
You look up to see Coronel Alejandro Vargas staring down at you, an amused expression on his face. He makes sure you're balanced before letting go. 
“Sorry Ale— I mean, Coronel,” you respond, your skin tingling. 
“It’s alright, you can call me Alejandro.” 
You smile,” Okay. It’s nice to see you again, Alejandro.” 
“Where’s your father? Did you come here by yourself?” He asks, concern etching his eyes.
“He’s in a meeting. And yes, I’m here by myself.” You give him one last bright smile before walking around him and into the store. 
Through the store windows you can see him speaking to a few of his soldiers. You watch as he takes a few steps towards one of the Jeeps then walks towards the store entrance, and back again. He looks conflicted.
You wonder what he's thinking until you see him motion the soldiers into one car, leaving the other to himself. Finally alone, Alejandro leans against his Jeep, face in deep concentration. You ignore Alejandro as you exit the store and keep walking towards the direction of your house. A few long strides later and he catches up to you. 
“Muñeca, I think it's best I take you home. It’s too dangerous for you to walk these streets.” 
“I appreciate it Alejandro, but I think I’ll be okay. You took out all the threats, remember?” you tease. 
“Not all of them, let me take you home,” he said as he reaches for your grocery bags. 
It only takes him a few minutes to arrive at your house. Your heart races once you notice both of your parents still aren’t home. 
“Thank you so much for the ride, Ale. Can I thank you with a cup of coffee?” You ask, your fingers lightly brushing his arm resting on the center console. 
There's no mistaking what you're implying by that question. Alejandro glances at your fingers tracing a pattern on his skin before looking into your eyes. It only takes him a few seconds to answer. 
“Yes.” 
You've just closed the front door and placed down the grocery bags before he presses you against it, his hard body molding perfectly to yours. 
“How long until your parents are home?” 
“Two hours maybe?” you manage to breathe out. 
“Just enough time then.”
Your heart races,” For what?” 
“Do you trust me?”
You pause for only a moment, nodding quickly. ”Yes, I do.”
Alejandro’s hands run up your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He reaches for your chin with one hand and gently tilts it up while his other hand presses against your rib cage to keep you against the door. You're dazed with want until he finally presses his lips on yours.
You’ve finally gotten your wish. He's here, in the privacy of your home, devouring your mouth like he wants to commit the shape into his memory. You part your lips and flick your tongue on his.
Alejandro moves to grip your throat, his tongue becoming rough but his hand holding your neck so softly. Your hands can feel his defined muscles while you rub up and down his chest. He breaks away and presses your hands to the bottom of your dress. 
“Lift it up.” 
Your head feels heavy but you manage to lift the dress right above your panties. He stops your hands and traces the seam of the silk material with his long fingers.
You feel heat between your thighs, wanting Alejandro to alleviate the ache. Alejandro’s fingers move the silk to the side to tease your slick entrance. 
“Will you let me taste this pretty pussy?” 
“Please, oh God.” 
Alejandro drops to his knees while warm hands slide up your thighs to remove your panties. He groans once he sees how wet and luscious you are.
“Better than I imagined,” He whispers. 
Alejandro hooks your thigh around his shoulder and drags his nose on your inner thighs. He licks up the stickiness from your folds before lapping at your entrance in rough strokes. You begin to rotate your hips in small circles, wanting his tongue anywhere and everywhere. Alejandro’s firm tongue thrusts into your tiny hole, making you cry out in surprise.
Your hips move faster to rub your swollen clit on his long nose. Your hands grip your dress tightly, desperately wanting to run them through his hair. He eats like he's starving. Alejandro comes up for air before quickly lapping at your clit. His moans of pleasure vibrate against you. 
“Dios, Ale!” 
Alejandro’s tongue swipes up to flick repeatedly on your clit. He keeps the same pattern, sucking the sensitive bud or thrusting his tongue inside of you. Your legs tremble from the pleasure but you manage to find the strength to hold yourself up.
Your hips speed up their movement, grinding on his nose. He can’t resist spanking your ass, loving the way it recoils back into his palm. The air catches in your lungs, your mouth opening in a silent scream. Alejandro once again fuses his mouth to your clit and begins to give light bites and licks.
The delicious pain mixed with the sweet movement of his tongue is too much for you. Your body tenses from the rippling sensations of your orgasm. He groans, his tongue quickly lapping at your entrance once you began to gush. It feels like an eternity until your body stops shuddering.
Alejandro catches you by the waist as he stands up. “¿Estás bien, muñequita?” [Are you okay, little doll?]
You breathe in deep for a few moments before responding, “Yes Ale, fuck. That felt amazing.” 
Your hands tug his hair to bring him close, your lips pressing firmly on his. He's quick to slide his tongue over yours, having you taste your sweetness. You savour the wetness clinging to his mouth and chin, shivering from the obscenity of it all.
Alejandro picks you up, wraps your thighs around his waist and has you lead him to your room. You can feel his hard cock press against your naked pussy as you grind on him. Once inside the bedroom, you make him sit on the edge of the bed, your mouth watering for a taste of him.
You drop down to your knees and unbuckle his pants, getting nervous from the size. Alejandro’s cock is warm and hard between your palms, his slit dripping salty precum. He groans from the licks and kisses you give, starting at the base to the tip of his cock.
You take a deep breath and swallow as much as you can, one of your hands stroking the length you can’t reach. Each suck causes you to hollow your cheeks as tears gather in your eyes from the tight fit in your throat. His hands run through your hair, gathering it at the top of your head to be able to see your face. 
“Muñeca, that feels – fuck. Don’t stop.”
You know he wants nothing more than to fuck your throat from how tightly he holds your hair and how hard his thighs are clenched. Your scalp tingles slightly from his grip and your throat works hard to accommodate the size of him.
He tastes clean and warm and indecent. How would people react if they saw the mayor’s perfect daughter on her knees sucking off Coronel Alejandro Vargas? The sounds of need that come from him only encourage you to suck faster. Alejandro pulls you off a few seconds later, your lips wet with saliva. 
“Enough, I want you on the bed.” 
Alejandro helps you take off the sundress, palming your tits in his hands. You climb on the bed while he takes off the rest of his clothes. He grabs your hips and brings you right at the edge of the bed, the perfect height for his waist. He spreads your thighs wide and lightly slaps his cock on your clit. You cry from the motion and move to grip the sheets. 
“¿Lo quieres, muñeca?” [You want it, doll?] 
“Sí, Ale.” 
Alejandro drags his tip from your clit to your entrance, gathering your wetness to sink inside of you. Your back arches the moment you feel him slide all the way in, so long and thick. 
“Bella,” he groans, voice thick with lust. [Beautiful.]
He keeps one hand on your tits, alternating between squeezing and pinching your nipples. He sets a pace, using his grip on your thigh as leverage. Every slide, in and out, in and out, stretches you perfectly. He reaches so deep inside of you, making you feel intoxicated from lust.
The slight sting from the stretch of his cock only adds to your pleasure. You trail one hand down your stomach to reach and feel where Alejandro pounds into you. It's incredibly hot and sticky. He moves his hand from your chest, over your fingers to play with your clit in small circles. You shiver from the sensation, clenching tightly around him.
He gives a rough, sloppy thrust and stretches your thigh out even more. You can’t even recognize your own voice, your gasps and whimpers sounding so desperate. Alejandro moves his hand, gripping your thighs to drag his cock out completely before pounding back inside of you. You replace his hand, rubbing your clit in fast circles, tits jiggling with the force of his thrusts. 
“Feel so fucking perfect,” he grunts. “I want you to come. I’m – i’m so close.” 
His hips slap roughly against your thighs, his fingers moving yours away to play with your swollen clit. It doesn’t take long for you to shatter completely from another orgasm, tightening around him in waves and squirting all over your joined lower bodies.
Alejandro’s voice is raspy as he comes, filling you completely. He doesn’t stop his thrusts right away, wanting to mark you from the inside until you're stuffed. His sweaty body joins you on the bed at last, your bodies limp from the pleasure. 
“Dios,” he starts, ”I never imagined it would be like that.” 
You turn to look at him, a lazy smile on your lips. “I didn’t either.” 
You both continue to lay in bed, petting and kissing every inch of each other’s bodies. After a while he reluctantly gets up to leave, promising to see you soon. 
“Maybe you can show me around the base, Alejandro?” 
“Sí, I think you’d like it.” 
Alejandro gives you one more long, tempting kiss before walking out the door. You know you’ll see him again very soon.
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Tylo Oneshot
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“We’re gonna let you guys hang out in pairs,” said one of the doctors to Tyler. “To let you guys check on each other and all that.”
Tyler scoffed. “How generous of you..” he hissed sarcastically. 
The doctor didn’t bother with a response and left the room, leaving Tyler on his own again. He laid back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. 
Please bring me Taylor.. I need to know if she’s ok.. please, please…
The door creaked open and Tyler jolted up to see his sister. Only.. it wasn’t her. 
“Tyler!” Logan cried out, halfway to tears. 
“Logan!” He exclaimed in surprise before glaring at the doctor. “No! Bring me my sister!!!”
“Ms. Hernandez is currently with Ms. Banner. Complaining will get you nowhere.” The doctor closed the door and Tyler slammed his fist into the wall. “Damnit!”
Logan gave him a look of embarrassment and shame. “I’m.. sorry..”
Tyler looked up at him and suddenly felt guilty. “No, no.. it’s not you, Logan. I just.. Taylor-“
“Is your sister. I understand..” Logan tried to force a smile. He really didn’t understand. He was an only child and was never really close to one specific person..
Tyler sat on the bed and buried his face into his hands. “This place is driving me nuts..”
Logan hesitated before eventually sitting next to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Well.. look on the bright side! At least now neither of us are alone!”
Tyler looked up and couldn’t help but feel a little lighter upon seeing Logan’s smile, even if it was a forced one. 
Logan was one of the few people he couldn’t really bring himself to be annoyed with. He’s too nice and the idea of yelling at him felt like it would be the equivalent to kicking a puppy (unlike with Aiden who feels like a mosquito he needs to bash into a wall). 
“Thanks, Logan..” he said with a sigh before lying back. “So what should we do? Not many forms of entertainment here other than the tv. And they’ve only, got, like, 3 channels. The news, Disney Junior, and The History Channel. Unless you wanna watch Ancient Aliens?”
Logan wrinkled his nose at the mention of Ancient Aliens. “Unless you wanna see me pop a blood vessel, I recommend turning on anything but that.”
Tyler was surprised by the almost passive aggressiveness on Logan’s voice. He let out a soft air of amusement and set the remote down. “Fair enough, astrology nerd.”
“Ugh, I study astronomy, not that fake, wishy-washy stuff that only exists to give boring people personalities.”
Tyler barked out a laugh. “Dang, ok! Wasn’t expecting that! Yknow, Taylor believes in astrology. Listens to horoscope podcasts and everything.”
Logan let out a dejected sigh. “Don’t remind me. She once asked for my star sign so she could check my compatibility with everyone in the group. If it was literally anyone else asking me for that, I would’ve stomped off right then and there. But Taylor’s nice to me, so I just gave in..”
“You have a lot more bite to you than I first thought.. guess I don’t hang out with you as much as I should..” 
Logan smiled softly at that. “Aha.. ya, well.. I’m not too fun to hang out with on my own.. but.. maybe..”
The two sit there for a moment, Tyler tapping on his wall dejectedly, wishing he could see his sister..
“I’m sorry..” Logan says under his breath. 
“Huh?” Tyler looked over at him. “For what?”
“Me being the reason you can’t see your sister..”
Tyler sucked in air through his teeth and looked down, ashamed. “Look, Logan, really, I’m not upset they brought you in instead-“
“But it really is my fault.”
“Huh? Whaddya mean?”
“I.. asked them if they could bring me to see you..” he admitted quietly. 
Tyler stared at him, processing his words. All he managed to say was “Huh?”
“I.. I wanted to see you.. because.. this.. this whole thing is terrifying!” There was a pause, all could be heard was the ticking of the clock. “And you.. you’re so confident all the time. For some reason your aggression, even in stressful circumstances, it’s oddly.. comforting? Like, at least there’s one person there who is expressing that they’re feeling anything but fear, yknow??”
Tyler still couldn’t find words. No one had ever described his aggression as comforting. Annoying, yes. A problem, he’s heard that hundreds of times. But comforting? That was new. 
“You..” he finally managed to choke out. “Are weird.”
Shiiiiit. 
Now he wishes he stayed at a loss for words because the absolute look of embarrassment on Logan’s face made him immediately regret his words. 
I KICKED THE PUPPY! SHIT, SHIT, SHIT! I KICKED THE DAMN PUPPY!
“But that’s not bad!” He quickly said. “Whatever helps, yknow!” 
Logan smiled weakly and forced out a laugh. “Ya.. ya..”
“Logan..” Tyler tried again, reaching out hesitantly before stopping himself. “I really didn’t mean it that way..” he said gruffly, really trying to keep the awkwardness out of his voice, but he ended up just sounding stiff. “You’re.. I.. you’re nice, Logan.”
“Hah.. ya.. nice..”
I’m so bad at damage control, ugh!!
“Logan!” Tyler barked. Logan jumped in surprise and turned to him. 
“You’re a fucking weirdo,” he said bluntly. “But I don’t mean it in the way Barron would.. I.. mean it in a good way, all right?”
Logan must’ve realized Tyler meant it, because he smiled a real smile. A smile of thankfulness and appreciation. 
“That.. really does mean a lot..” Logan said, nervously rubbing his arms. 
The two looked at each other and Logan felt desperation creep into his soul. This entire situation has been terrifying, being kidnapped, separated from his friends, and learning he’s going to turn into a phantom. He had to say it. He had to! He couldn’t possibly die without saying it right here and now! He was not going to be a coward!!
“I like you, Tyler,” Logan said. 
Tyler’s eyes widened. “What..?”
“The way you play baseball and have manage to be cool about everything you do and your sense of justice and the way you care about the people you love, like Taylor.. I like all of that about you!”
Right when Tyler thought Logan couldn’t surprise him anymore. “L..Logan..!”
But before he could even figure out what to say, the door opened. “We’ll be taking Mr. Fields back to his room.”
Tyler looked up, his eyes still wide. “Huh..?”
Logan stood up and waved at Tyler. “See ya, Ty..” he said with a smile. Logan felt really proud of himself. 
“W-wait.. hey, Logan!”
But the door shut and Logan let out a sigh. With each step, he remembered little things. Like when he went to a baseball game to practice his photography and he first ever saw Tyler and how cool he thought he was.. Like when Tyler stood up to Barron for Logan… Like how Tyler said he liked that Logan was weird..
By the time Logan reached his room and the door closed, he realized what he did. It really hit him like a school bus. 
“AHHHH! Did I really just do that?!?” He grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. “NOW I REALLY HOPE I BECOME A PHANTOM!”
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alienpossession · 8 months
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Ricky rented the canoe around 10 AM from one of the local vendor. But ever since he went away from the shorr, no one knew his whereabouts
---
The boat appeared unnoticed.
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Over the course of the hour, Jared lifted his head and scanned the horizon a few times, taking a nap and earning a natural tan was very nice, but he didn't like being in the dark. He was used to being in control, looking out over the empty beach and the hazy calm sea. The eye caught on a small, barely noticeable dot, but he quickly forgot about it. Until the next look at the sea. The dot got a little bigger until it was obvious that it was a boat. There was no wind, and quietly swaying it was pulled to the shore by the current and the tide, it seemed to him that the boat was completely empty.
The third time he woke up, when the tide began to tickle his feet, noon was long gone and the sun was starting to set, he too should have gone home. He stood on the sand and stretched out, his whole body tensed, stiff muscles tensed and woke up. He yawned and looked back. The boat stuck to the sand, it was rocked by the oncoming wave, from here one could see the leg thrown on board, swaying in time with the wave.
He yawned again, thinking that the boatman had also taken a nap, but something was wrong. Why would anyone let themselves dose off in such a small vessel which could be carried away by the current?
He yawned again and walked carelessly to the boat. Inside lay the body of a tattooed blonde guy looking drained and sun-kissed from the many hours he spent under the sun. He looked drained despite there's a bag with small food and packed bottles of a bluish liquid resembling water in his tiny boat
He put two fingers on his neck and tried to feel for a pulse, barely noticeable and very weak, it was bad. Jared grabbed the tattooed guy arms and pulled him to the sand, then knelt beside him and tried to remember the resuscitation technique. He pressed his chest a few times, then breathed air into his mouth, no response, just a strange squelching in his throat. He turned the guy on his side, tried to shake out the water, a thick bluish liquid began to drip from the guy's mouth. It gathered in a puddle and did not soak into the sand. Jared barely paid attention to it, he turned the guy on his back again, he was already breathing and even opened his eyes, but immediately closed them.
"Lie still," Jared said. He turned his back on the boat, hoping to find a mobile phone in the bag, not noticing how the bluish thick liquid stretched out and crawled into the guy's mouth, his eyes turned completely blue, and his body fluttered. Soon there was nothing left on the sand but a slight bluish body, his limbs quivered and he tried to get up.
Jared dumped the entire contents of the bag into the boat, it seemed that the bag belonged to some researcher, but there was no phone in it.
Thirsty from the whole saving effort and still not finding any clue, Jared pulled out one of the water bottles, popped the lid off, and took a deep sip. Instead of water, something thick and bitter filled his throat, the bottle fell from his hands and fell on the sand. Jared doubled over and tried to burp the disgusting liquor, but it remained in his throat. He tried to breathe but stuttered, his throat blocked, he felt cold tentacles stretching in all directions and towards his head. At that moment, he was hit from behind, Jared fell to the shallow water, gasping, something did not let him breathe, and his blood began to boil as he grabbed his throat, turning paler every second went by. The body of the recently rescued tattooed guy then piled on top of him and they started to wrestle. His eyes were blue, and blue was leaking from his ears and nose. The two went on pushing each other before the tattooed guy eventually got the upper hand
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The two of them eventually kissed underwater and that's when the tattooed guy's neck bulging before he unloads sticky goo right onto Jared's mouth. He then dragged Jared back to the surface and throughout the whole ordeal, the goo completely infiltrated his head and body. He was trapped, in seconds his brain was covered in slime, his body and arms were twitching. The body that dragged him then picked up the bottle from the ground and splashed even more of its contents into the back of Jared's throat. He fought for every inch of his body, but he could not help but feel how he was slowly losing control, the cold was spreading from the bottom up, the limbs were icy and blue. Slime spread over his body and Jared felt like he was drowning in it. He finally gave up when he was flooded - not by slime, but by orgasm.
His body opened its eyes and met the gaze of the man above it. One blink and their blue eyes were back to normal, their brains and memories synchronized. The feeling of being in control of two bodies was unusual, but it adjusted quickly. The guy from above extended his hand, and Jared's body immediately grabbed it and stood on the sand again. They swayed as they looked at each other, both able to communicate without words.
Both reached for the bottles in the boat, popped them open and poured the contents inside themselves, greedily gulping down the bulk of the slime. It is enough for many bodies, in the human body it could multiply uncontrollably.
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Another story from a follower which I altered a bit to make it fits to the pictures I have. Hope you like it
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cherrycocaineee · 1 year
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35. Joker - Safe With Me
*Warning: I’ve incorporated characters from both Gotham and Suicide Squad. Mention of Violence. Abuse. Legal Age Gap. Whatever else is considered a warning.*
Synopsis: After one of the most intense beatings she’s ever experienced by her father, Paisley runs away; only taking a pre-packed backup with her and ditching her cell. Not wanting to go to the Joker, afraid of what he’d do to her father if she did, she goes to an abandoned building instead. But being the property of the Joker means that he knows where she’s at at all times.
* Paisley’s p.o.v *
It was the worst it had ever been before; and even though it had been two hours since I had just experienced the most gruesome beating in my life, the pain was still fresh. The bruises formed almost immediately, and there were popped blood vessels in my eye coloring the white part red. My face was sticky with old tears, new ones adding to the mess as I looked at the mirror in my room. I hadn’t done anything wrong that warranted this type of outburst, in fact, it had nothing to do with me at all. Apparently, dad was going through some things at work that had him considering leaving Gotham; which I found out meant that he might lose his job if he stayed. He was so stressed out that he drank too much before coming home to take his drunken frustration out on me to make himself feel better.
   I moved some of my blonde hair out of my face; dry blood had crusted into my hair from the cut that it hid. My other hand reached up and touched my busted lip, wincing as I felt the sting of how fresh it was. I tried not to look at the thousands of bruises littering my body or the sharp pain in my ribs that might indicate a broken bone. The only thing I could think of the entire time I cried and looked at my wounds was that I couldn’t do this anymore, and that I deserved better than what I was getting. So I quietly opened my closet door, listening intently to the television downstairs, then grabbed my pre-packed bag out from underneath a few extra quilts and blankets. I was never worried about dad going through my belongings, I was worried about Freddy going through my things and finding stuff that I didn’t want to have to explain to him or my dad.
I didn’t plan on taking my cell phone with me, so I made sure to block the Joker’s number and hope that when I did see him again, he’d understand. I even deleted our messages so no one could go through them when they realized I was gone. I opened my underwear drawer and pulled out a wad of cash that I had been saving up from allowances. Once I had everything that I needed, I opened my window and crawled onto the extended tree limb that normally helped me sneak back in after my nights with Mister J. As soon as my feet touched the ground, I took off down the streets as quietly and quickly as I could. I didn’t want to catch anyone’s attention. All I wanted to do was get away from this man who was no longer my father.
    There really wasn’t anywhere I could go where someone didn’t recognize me; the whole city practically knew who my dad was, even the criminals knew. I’d go to the Joker later but right now, I was afraid of what he’d do once he saw me in this state. In the meantime, I dodged anyone I thought could recognize me and call home to inform my dad that I was wandering the streets of Gotham late at night. After some time, I had managed to walk my way into some abandoned building that I’d never noticed before. Glass covered every inch of the ground, mixing with the gray sand and dead grass, all of the windows were boarded up and I wondered if maybe the windows were broken on purpose when they closed down. It also could have been teenagers breaking in, similar to what I was doing. I could read the sign that was painted on the moldy bricks because it was too faded.
  “God,” I mumbled, “This is definitely how people die.”
  But even that was a better fate than being alive and beaten.
Taking a large breath, I made my way into the building. There were no lights on but the small cracks in the foundation allowed a few slips of moonlight to give me direction. In the distance, I could hear a small bubbling sound coming from a room. A green, illuminated light peeped underneath the door that contained it. Swallowing hard, I shuffled to the door and pushed it open; an eerie creek echoed off the empty, damp walls. Leading through the room was a high pavement of metal that looked wet like everything else in the building, however, surprisingly it wasn’t rusted. I placed my foot on the metal carefully and listened for anything that would indicate I’d fall to my doom. When I was reassured that it was safe, I started walking further into the room. Underneath the walkway were enormous vats of green, steaming liquid that I recognized easily; the only reason I knew what it was was because of the lesson we did in chemistry class. It was acid. I was quickly reminded of Harley’s beginning, how it all started for her here. Part of me always wondered if the Joker kept me around to fill in the hole Harley left, if he really cared about me at all or was he doing it all to help him then toss me to the side. I was afraid to tell him that, to see what his reaction would be. Would he hit me like my father did when he was angry? Would he just leave me? Would I ruin something that I considered perfect in its own way?
    I eventually made it to the edge of the path and peered down at the rolling acid beneath me. I remembered telling Mister J that I didn’t want to end up diving into a pit of acid and becoming the new Harley, and he had been okay with it but I still wondered if that were the case. Sighing gently, I sat down and let my feet dangle over the edge. The drop looked further than it probably was, like if I was peering down at the mess beneath me from a tower. More tears slid down my cheeks and I buried my head into my hands as I started to sob uncontrollably like I had at home.
Time seemed to speed by while I sat alone, crying and wallowing in my own self pity. When I was officially cried out, I wiped all of the tears away as well as the small amount of snot bubbling at the end of my nose. I was so preoccupied that I didn’t notice the door opening or feet approaching me until I had a feeling someone was standing behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, sending a rush of fear rolling through my body. I was afraid that my dad had found me here and that I would receive more than what I’d gotten earlier. But that fear was tossed out the window when I heard the Joker’s voice.
   “What do you think you’re doing?” He hissed, angry by the fact that I had blocked his number.
 “I just needed some time to think,” I whispered, never making eye contact with him so he couldn’t see my face.
  “You blocked my number,” his breathing was huffier, angrier, “Is that your way of telling me you’re done with me?”
  That time, I couldn’t even form the words to explain myself. All of the emotions resurfaced as I began to choke on sobs again, covering my mouth to quiet them to no avail. Mister J kneeled beside me, gripping my shoulders hard and forcing me to look at him. His eyes were cold and hard, dangerous and calculating; probably all of the ways to kill me. Then they softened and relaxed when he saw the condition I was in.
  “I had to leave,” I cried, “It was so much worse than…than before. And I had to block your number so he wouldn’t see I’d been speaking to you, in case he found me.”
 “Why didn’t you come to me, Paisley?”
 “Because I don’t want you to kill him! He’s my fa-father!”
I buried my head into the silk of his shirt, gripping the leather of his jacket while more sobs escaped. Drool started gathering onto his shirt creating a wet stain but he didn’t say anything. Instead, Mister J wrapped his strong, thick arms around me in comfort while brushing my hair with his fingers. When his fingers found the blood tangled in my hair, he froze but still kept whatever was brewing in his head to himself. Once again, I felt cried out so I pulled away, wiping away the drool and tears from my face as well as his shirt, at least the best I could.
  “I sh-shouldn’t have blocked you,” I croaked, “but I didn’t know what else to…to do. I’m so tired. Drained.”
  Mister J sat beside me, keeping his arm around me firmly.
 “Luckily,” Mister J muttered, his voice still rough with anger, “I know exactly how to find someone when I need to.”
 “How did you find me?” I asked, sniffling.
 “Someone I work close to saw you walking down the street with a frightened face. I figured it was because you were scared of me finding you but now that I’m looking at you, I know that wasn’t the case.”
  Mister J pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and clicked around before putting the phone to his ear. I stared up at him, wondering who he was calling right now.
 “Frost,” he said, answering my unspoken question, “Go to Paisley’s home and collect the rest of her things to bring back home. And take her dad too.”
My eyes widened and I tried to tell him no or anything else that would get him to leave my dad alone. When he hung up on Frost, I pushed him off of me angrily.
“I told you I didn’t want you to kill him!” I snapped.
  Mister J stared at me with a large grin on his face. His silver teeth glowing in the moonlight and the green, illuminating acid. I shook my head; it felt like he wasn’t taking any of this seriously. I climbed to my feet and grabbed my pre-packed runaway kit then started to leave. Mister J was quick to his own feet and grabbed my arm to keep me from leaving.
 “He hurt you and he continues to hurt you. He wants to take you away from me too, and I can’t allow that. I won’t allow that. As long as you and I are together, Paisley, you belong to me, and I won’t allow anything to happen to you like with Harley. Especially when I could have put an end to it. I listened, I didn’t go near him and I didn’t kill him like you asked but enough's enough.”
  My bag slipped off my shoulder, hitting the metal with a loud thud.
 “But I…what will I do?” I whispered.
 “You’ll come stay with me like we’ve talked about.”
 “People will come looking for me.”
 “We’ll fake your own death. They’ll think you and your dad died.”
 “What if I want to go out and get coffee or just for a walk or to pick something up?”
 “Then you’ll go with the guards so they can watch and protect you, otherwise, you’ll be with me. You’ll be safe, Paisley.”
I wiped away the remaining tears and looked up at his icy blue eyes with my own. He was watching me, reading everything he could off my face to see if I’d agree or not. How could I say no? He’d always taken care of me before, he listened and didn’t act when he discovered my dad was beating me or that he wanted to take me out of Gotham. Mister J had never given me a reason to distrust him, even his anger and the way he acted sometimes didn’t scare me because he didn’t take his anger out on me. In fact, he treated me like a princess all the time.
  I reached out and took the hand that wasn’t grabbing onto me. It was covered in tattoos and thick calluses. I led him back to where we had been sitting and pulled him down beside me. I rested my head against his shoulder and sighed. Our outer thighs touched and I kept our hands entwined with one another.
   “Okay,” I said, “I’ll come stay with you. But I swear to God, if you ever lay your hands on me the way he did…”
  No more words left my mouth as Mister J burst into laughter, the sound stretching across the room creating an echo.
  “I’m serious,” I protested.
 “I know,” he laughed, “that’s what makes it hilarious because you think I’d stoop so low as to hit someone as pretty as you.”
  “You’re so unlike yourself when you’re around me.” A giggle left my own lips.
 “Is that so?” He hummed.
I nodded.
And it was true too. Everyone knew how the Joker really was to people; he was a ruthless killer who had no problem manipulating his way out of any situation so he could get what he wanted. But that had never been the case with me; he had approached me, he asked me to be with him, and he continued to see me afterwards without asking for anything besides my loyalty. I didn’t even have to get him out of Arkham when he wound up in there, I just had to promise to come see him on the days I visited my mom and had to be with him once he got out. It was like our relationship was purely based on a need for someone to love him because he didn’t have that anymore. How he ended up falling in love with me was still a mystery but I knew how I fell in love with him. And I didn’t regret being in love with him. If Mister J swore he was going to take care of me and treat me the way I deserved to be treated, then I didn’t mind the darker side of him.
   “Paisley,” Mister J called out.
  I looked up at him and hummed in acknowledgment.
   “I love you.”
  It was the first time he had ever said that to me before. I smiled, nibbling on my bottom lip as I felt happiness erupt inside me.
  “I love you too, Mister J.”
  He climbed to his feet and held out his hand. I didn’t hesitate to take it and he easily pulled me off the metal platform. Not another word was spoken between the two of us as we left the abandoned building. And for the first time in a long time, I knew I was going to be able to sleep peacefully without the fear of being woken in the middle of the night to be punished.
 It was refreshing.
Taglist: @w4nt-h1s-d1ck @leaveitbythewave @ellatitanium @gaymistakeboi @erika-solic @weepingwitchofthewest
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brrrkdslek · 7 months
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UM O E O
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𖡎 youtube clips of ateez member, m/n that has atinys barking and rolling on the floor.
𖡎 ateez x 9th member! male! reader
𖡎 fluff, angst, idk slay???
𖡎 bullying, harassment, blood n gore(oop)
𖡎 2.8k
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clip 1 — m/n standing up for ateez on variety show
ateez along with the mcs laughed at the jokes as they continued, "if i were a member of ateez, what position would suit me best?" the members looked around and whispered amongst each other before hongjoong spoke up, "i don't know, but i think you'd do great..."
everyone laughs at the captain's statement as he shrinks in embarrassment. the mc puffs out his chest, "i think i'd be able to handle m/n's position." jongho blinks in surprise, "you can handle being main vocalist and main dancer...?" the other mc retaliated, "yeah, he thinks he can! what about it!?"
you only smile, knowing how much these people underestimate your hardwork. wooyoung speaks, "but his position is very hard, m/n actually plays a huge part in our choreography too!" wooyoung nudges you, "tell them!" you giggle at wooyoung's excitement.
"okay. so, when our tracks release, let's say for our comeback song, bouncy. i would improv it once and record it, then i would mark down some move which i think would collaborate well with the song, and then i'd work out the full choreo with the choreographer-"
the mc cut you off, "i still think i'd be able to do it though! maybe even better than you!" it came out in a joke tone but you could hear the underlying saltiness the man had with you, why's he so reluctant on bullying you???
you brush through your long hair before breaking the awkward silence, "well, who's position on the team do you agree with the least and why?" the mc perked up as he spoke loudly, "i think i would be the visual." mingi had to physically hold back a snort from beside you, "i honestly don't think seonghwa should be the visual at all."
wooyoung held back a gasp as san glared at the mc from afar. yunho turned to seonghwa and he only blinked in surprise, jongho gulped as he sees your vessel popping out in your neck, the tips of your ears turning slightly red.
"hm, i see. then who do you think would be best for visuals?" mingi placed his hand in your lap, comforting you quietly as you sighed. "i think, maybe me?" the mc does some weird 'sexy' pose and the other mc applauses him while your members keep quiet.
you let out a loud laugh for a second before covering your mouth with your hand, "ah, i'm sorry!" the mc's face was blank, "what, do you think i can't be the visual!?" you look the man up and down, "are you sure you'll even make it past the audition?" 'oo's' and laughs were exchanged between your members as you and the mc only stared.
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clip 2 — m/n toktoq live: response to the show
you were eating peacefully in your hotel room with your live on and singing to the atinys every now and then. "m/n, did you say that to the mc because you were mad?" you read out a question. pondering for a few seconds, you decide to answer honestly.
"yes, i was super mad, more that he insulted my members." you slurped the noodled as you spoke again, "listen, i don't mind if people insult or make fun of me. but i won't accept if anyone speaks ill of my members." you untie your bun, which had been messed up from how much you'd been moving around.
biting the hairtie between your teeth, you used your hands to fix a ponytail and spoke, "i can take any insults if it is directed to me," picking up the hairtie, you tie your hair into a bun and fixed your bangs, "but please, leave my members alone."
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clip 3 — m/n going off at a saseang in the airport
you had your hood and mask on as you followed along your members in the airport. you always hated the airport since the amount of people surrounding you made you feel incredibly claustrophobic and annoyed.
you had just came back to korea from your long concert and is headed back to the company. during the trip, you felt someone poke you and turned around, "hyung..." jongho's face looks slightly paler, "are you alright, jjong?" you held onto his hand as he leaned onto your strong arm, "just a bit tired..."
you ruffled his hair, "let's get outta here as soon as possible, m'kay?" jongho nods as you kiss his head, following your other members.
as you neared the exits, the group began slowing down as more people surrounded ateez and pushed the mangers and even the members from time to time. you tsked and checked on jongho every few seconds to make sure he is still there.
you noticed a woman pulling on the hems of jongho's hoodie as you swatted her away, pulling his closer to you as you squeezed between the members. however, she came back and kept on trying to get his attention, making him incredibly uncomfortable.
you could feel jongho's hands tremble and twitch with every touch of the woman and you got increasingly angered. you even did as much as wrapping your entire arm around his waist and leaned your head on his shoulder, you know jongho likes when you do that, it made him feel relaxed and calm.
but of course the woman didn't fucking stop as san and mingi were trying their best to kindly push her off and not cause scene. you heard jongho continuously mumbled for her to get off but you weren't having any of it. you were on your last straw when she began pulling on his wrist, that's when you acted out.
you let go of jongho's hand quickly and went to the other side and shoved the woman, hard. she ended up tripping on her own feet and collapsing onto the ground. you could care less for the cameras that were capturing this moment, in fact, you wanted everyone to see.
"yah! what's wrong with you!?" the woman spoke as she fixed her hair and tried standing up, you used your feet to push her shoulder back down. "what's wrong with me? are you kidding me, lady? you had been touching jongho this entire time and you're asking me what's wrong with me?"
you let out a sarcastic laugh, "who do you think you are? did you think i wouldn't do anything cause there are cameras?" your members and managers made no move to stop you as they only watched, all silently agreeing that it is what she deserved.
you crouched down and leaned into her ear, "if there were no cameras, i would've beat your fucking face off. now get lost before i actually do that." the woman shifted away from you and scrambled to get up, running away in a hurry as she cried.
you got up and grabbed your bag before going back to jongho and holding his hand, "let's go?" he nodded as the managers lead you all to the van, the crowd becoming smaller after your sudden outburst.
as you got into the van, you never let go of jongho's hand as he leaned onto your shoulder, eyes getting heavier. "i'm sorry jjong. you must've been so scared..." he smiled, "but i wasn't." you blink in surprise, "really, why not?" he looks up at you and flashed that adorable gummy smile of his, "cause i knew you'd protect me."
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clip 4 — angry m/n at kcon
you were performing as normal and was super excited for your upcoming high note part. you had a few lines before it and while you were singing, you found that your mic had disconnected or some shit, making you grumpy.
however, atinys thought you were doing a sexy concept and cheered excitedly watching you sing your part. the mic had become more and more annoying as you sang your part, proving to be useless.
during the few seconds of pause before your high note, your ripped the headset off and threw it onto the ground before hitting the high note perfectly, wowing the atinys at your impactful volume even without a mic.
clip 5 — m/n shoving paparazzis for getting too close
ateez was in america, dressed all nice for their interview with buzzfeed, and as they got off the van one by one, the members were bombarded with cameras flashing in their direction. it wouldn't have been a problem had they not been at hand's distance with the members faces.
you were the last to get off the van as one paparazzi had the audacity to shove his camera inside the van while you were getting off. so, being the good samaritan you are, you shoved the camera.
you shoved it forward so that it hit the paparazzi on his bald head, making the man scream curses at you as you walked into the building, smile never leaving your face.
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clip 6 — yunho vs m/n
"yeah, and i got this last week-" "why does your hair look like that?" you turn to yunho looking pretty offended, "why does my hair look like... what?" yunho giggles, "like, like poo..." you deadpan to the camera before rolling your eyes, "why does my hair matter to you in the slightest bit?" he shrugs and bites into the dumpling.
"i dunno, i jus' think it looks better when it's down." you leaned down to slurp your noodles, "better than your crap coloured hair..." yunho's jaw drops as he tosses the wooden chopsticks on the table and stands up, "yah!"
you turn to him and look up, "why're you standing up??" he pouts, "my hair is NOT crap colour!" your forehead creases, "can you just sit down-" "at least i don't spend two hours every morning getting ready." you frown and stand up, growing more annoyed by the second.
"why're you picking a fight with me?" he rolls his eyes and cross his arms, mumbling something. "what'd you say?" looking down, yunho mumbles, "i'm not the one that throws headsets on stage..."
you had to blink a few times to process what he had said. "jeong yunho," the man stiffens and turns to you, "...what?" you stared at the man with the angry glare, making him shiver. "sit down right now and eat your food." as if on impulse, yunho's knees buckle and he plops back onto the armchair.
you side-eyed yunho for a few seconds before turning to the camera, with a large grin like you weren't just about to detached yunho's head from his body, "okay atinys, i think we have to cut the live short! have a good day!"
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clip 7 — m/n noona revealed!
mingi bounced excitedly as he sat on the chair and waited for his questions, "has there been a time where your members has stood up for you?" mingi's eyes widen as he smiles, "yes!" he answers loudly.
"there was this time during a fansign when i was feeling really sick, m/n hyung noticed and tried to tell the staff but they wouldn't let me leave. i get it, cause they thought it would've been disrespectful and i told him that!
but he got so angry and only told me to take care of myself before he went back to the atinys. afterwards, he yelled and screamed at the managers!" mingi giggled, "it was really funny seeing them all just looking down like toddlers being scolded by their parents. i'm so grateful for m/n hyung!"
the other members including yourself smiles and giggled at the back as wooyoung spoke up, "you mean m/n noona?" you swatted the back of wooyoung's head as he only giggled, "that sounds so good!" mingi turned to look at wooyoung.
"right!?" "m/n noona!" jongho laughed, "m/n noona!" he leaned onto your shoulder as you only huffed, the rest of the members including hongjoong and seonghwa hyung also started calling you that.
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clip 8 — fansign massacre!
it was a sunny day when ateez were in la, california for their fansign. hongjoong had asked the managers a few times for them not to do a fansign in such an area since america was a dangerous place as they could get stabbed and shot at any moment. however, the managers persisted.
the members were lined up in their seats in the order of their ages, with m/n squeezed between hongjoong and yunho. the venue was crowded with many atinys waving and screaming the member's names.
as the atinys sat in their designated seats, the fansign started. you were enthusiastic with a happy grin painting your face the entire time at all the pretty girls and boys that dressed up prettily to see you, it made your heart swell with pride.
suddenly, hongjoong leaned into your ear and whispered, "this one's sketchy, watch them closely." you blink in confusion before the next fan shifts in front of you.
you immediately get the memo as the person- you can't even tell the gender as their face was covered up with a mask and hoodie. you force a smile as you tried to bring up some conversation, "so, uh... how long have you been a fan?"
"i'm not," your eyes widen, "how long is each member?" you were shocked as it took you a second to respond, "f-five minutes." afterwards, you and the person only stared at each other before the time ran out.
you suddenly got a feeling in your gut something bad was about to happen. you were constantly turning to yunho who was on your left conversing with said person. why were they being so friendly with yunho only?
"are you alright?" the atiny asked as you brushed some sweat from your forehead and focused back on the fan, but making sure to keep an eye on yunho.
as the timer ran out, the atinys shifted seats again but the person never moved from in front of yunho. you felt your heart rate increased as the person stayed unmoving, the staff were already on high alert of this person after seonghwa's turn.
yunho's eyes widen in fear as the person abruptly pulled out a dagger and stood up, leaning forward to graze yunho. yunho leaned backwards, closing his eyes as yeosang reaching out to stop the person, everything was moving too quickly as m/n instinctively reached out.
yunho cracked his eyes open as he fell backwards onto his butt at the sight in front of him; you holding the dagger with your bare hand, gripping it so hard your veins were visible on your forearm. wooyoung almost threw up at the sight of your blood running down your arm.
everyone around you was panicked including the person as the crowd screamed and pushed around each other, but your face was stern. you stared straight into the person with half-lidded eyes, showing no sign of emotions even though your hand was burning from pain.
no one dared to move, not even the members or managers as you slowly spoke in english, "what," your eyebrows creased, "do you think you're doing?" your grip tightened as the person's grip on the handle loosened, stumbling backwards as he fell.
the staff immediately emerged from the shadows and pinned down the person, making sure to call the police. you violently threw the dagger onto the ground, making everyone jump as you wiped your bloody hand on your white tank top, eyes never leaving the attackers.
you squatted down and pulled their hoodie down, "if i see your face again," grabbing a fistful of their hair, you yanked the person so close your noses almost touched. they yelped in pain and gripped your wrist, "i'll kill you with this damn knife, got it?"
the person began to cry as you shoved their face away, grimacing as the staff dragged the person backstage. the manager came to you with first-aid and asked if you were okay. you brushed them off as you jogged to yunho, who was still sat on the ground.
you cup his cheeks in your hand as you turn his head left and right, "yun! are you okay? are you hurt?" yunho's eyes watered as his bottom lip quivered, "ah- i got blood on your cheek," you pulled your right hand away and wiped the blood with the back of your hand.
yunho stopped your movement and held onto your wrist, pulling his head into your chest as he silently sobbed, mumbling 'sorry's' and 'it's my fault's'. you kissed his head and patted his back, "no, i'm sorry i was a second too late."
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©BRRRKDSLEK 2023
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pilfappreciator · 5 months
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Can you write about Veneer... Just, like, anything at all. I'm BEGGING. They could be headcanons, drabbles, oneshots, ANYTHING. My little gay mind can't handle it. If you don't have any ideas here are some that I have off the top of my head ^_^ (also if you could make any of these male reader I will love you forever BUT you obviously don't have to <33)
- Baking with him (but either veneer or the reader is a nightmare in the kitchen and everything goes wrong)
- Having a slumber party !! (Doing eachothers nails, hair, makeup, watching movies, just talking, possibly falling asleep in eachothers arms and being embarrassed in the morning)
- Playing hide and seek together
- CHRISTMAS WITH VENEER!!! (Decorating the house/Christmas tree, getting presents, playing out in the snow, just general festive activities:3)
- Reader who has a shit ton of stuffies and has named them all (introducing them to Veneer, cuddling, fluffy things)
- Eepy time (sleeping/cuddling hcs, shenanigans, not being able to fall asleep, weird midnight chats)
I had more but I forgot....
NAHHH UR LITERALLLY SO BASED I LOVE YOU FOR THAT!!! Veneer is literally such a criminal cuz like?? He kidnapped someone, tortured them, AND he stole your heart??? SOMEONE STOP HIM ASDKJALJSLD
Ended up combining a few of your ideas into one big concept! Hope you don't mind :3
Also heads up that this takes place before the events of Band Together took off! Just figured it'd be kinda hard to throw a sleepover when your ass is literally in prison lol
Veneer x Reader: when your favorite twink invites you to a sleepover
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Includes: Male! Reader, sleepover shenanigans, fluff, slight angst, gaygaygaygay—
💎 You and Veneer would have to be INCREDIBLY close before he even considered invited you over
💎 Tbh I feel like getting invited to hangout with this guy in any way is actually? Kind of a privilage?? Like his fame is obviously a big factor in that but growing up, I doubt he had any actual friends who weren't his sister. I imagine him as kinda shy and non-confrontational as a kid, and though Velvet wasn't the BEST sibling, she never hesitated to cuss out whatever poor soul chose to pick on her brother. She's always been the one to lead and Veneer has always just followed
💎 I mean... the guy literally participated in tortue just cuz his sister told him to. He sheep coded as hell 😔
💎 So yeah, this boy probably has like zero experience when it comes to having friends who don't use him for his fame and/or are related to him by blood. Luckily you came along! Now he's actually got someone with whom he shares a genuine connection with!!
💎 Whether that connection is strictly platonic has... yet to be determined >;3c
💎 WITH THAT BEING SAID!! This guy has never once participated in a sleepover (hanging out in his sister's room doesn't count), and he's got absolutely no clue what to do ://
💎 Will conduct numerous amounts of research days in advance! And by research, I mean he's binging all his favorite chick flicks and having Krimp take notes aslkdhaljsdl
💎 FR THO!! THIS BOY IS JITTERY AS HELL WHEN THE TIME COMES TO ASK YOU OUT OVER LIKE---!
💎 "Oh heyyyy, (____)! Fancy seeing you here!"
"This... is my house?"
"R-right, right! Obviously! Um, anyway, do you like sleeping?"
"Uh."
"Also, u-uh, totally unrelated but have you ever wondered what the inside of my house looks like?"
💎 Pls just accept his invitation. If he gets any redder he might pop a blood vessel or something
💎 Heaves out the BIGGEST sigh once you say yes. He'll try to play himself off as nonchalant even though he's absolutely ecstatic, but like... the boy is literally vibrating with excitement okay, he's not fooling anyone lol
💎 Once the big day comes and you show up to his house— sorry, MANSION? Prepare yourself cuz he is most definitely giving a tour. From the indoor pool, to the outdoor pool, to the personal studio/production room, to the many walk-in closets, to a room that is literally just one big ball pit, to a heigh-ceiling hallway just lined with photos/painting of him and his sister... he is NOT afraid to show off asdkajsdlkhjf
💎 (Sidenote: don't worry about Velvet potentially intruding on the sleepover. She's agreed to step out for the day on her brother's behalf. Was definitely pretty pissy about having to vacate her own home but eventually relented... but Veneer definitely owes her for her kindness)
💎 Yknow all those cliche sleepover activities people do in movies? Yeah, you guys are doing literally all of them
💎 Such a dumbass <33
💎 NO LIKE ACTUALLY THO?? Krimp made Veneer a list of popular and totally optional things to do at a sleepover and the second he saw it, he was just like "uugh, seems like a lot of work but I GUESS I'll do it 🙄"
💎 You guys are painting your nails matching colors, doing facemasks, messing around with each others' hair— the whole shebang!! And considering this dude is rich as fuck, you just KNOW he's got nothing but all the top-of-the-line products 😤😤. Only the finest for him (and you <33)
💎 LET HIM DO YOUR MAKEUP!! I feel like he really enjoys it as a whole! Like it's probably his favorite part of getting ready for shows or just his day in general, and the only person he's done makeup for is Velvet (tho those instances were VERY rare)... but if you just? Suggest that he does yours for you?? Like just sitting back so he can do his thing, allowing him to call the shots like he rarely ever does???
💎 Literally swooning SO HARD ASLDHKALKJSJDLKJA
💎 Unfortunately the whole thing kinda backfires on him cuz: 1) you're already super cute without makeup, and 2) he knows what he's doing and could easily boost someone's looks with just some eyesliner and the right shade of lipstick
💎 He makes you look hotter, is basically what I'm getting at
💎 He's not sure if he's just done himself a huge favor or screwed himself over for the rest of the night
💎 Considering his crazy wealth and the fact he probably grew up pretty sheltered/spoiled, I doubt this boy knows anything about how a kitchen works lol. Like most of his meals were either made for him by Krimp or served at high-end hoity-toity restaurants with caviar that probably cost more than most organs sell on the black market ://
💎 So yeah, dinner is really gonna come down to you and your skill level
💎 If you know you're away around, CONGRATS!! You've just signed yourself up for cooking lessons with Veneer! And yes, the kitchen WILL end up a mess (but no worries, he'll just make Krimp clean it up). You'll definitely have to take the lead here and he's more than happy to let you do so! Just tell him what spices you need or what utensil to grab, and his ass is on it 🫡 If you wanna teach him how to knead dough or peel certain ingredients?? He won't complain (especially if said activity requires you two to be in close proximity hehe)
💎 Do NOT leave him alone in the kitchen for more than 10 seconds. You'll just return to find him trying to cut strawberries with the dull side of a knife u_u
💎 If you're also total shit in the kitchen?? No worries! Veneer may be living that high life but he's not above ordering takeout lol
💎 Remember those chick flicks I mentioned earlier? Yeah, you two are totally running a marathon of those. If you happen to have any good recs or other movies you happen to like?? He's totally willing to give them a try! Just know that if it's a scary movie… he's gonna be wrapped around you like a koala and screaming into your ear at every jumpscare
💎 He may be talentless but this boy can hit a high note if he feels he's in danger
💎 He may be different from his sister in some ways, but one attribute he shares with her is the fact that he's a TOTAL GOSSIP LIKE?? THIS BOY IS MORE THAN PREPARED TO SPILL THE TEA ON ANY GIVEN OCCASION—
💎 "Oh my gosh, did you HEAR about what happened to Nikki Mirage the other day??"
"No? Wait, who's that again?"
"YOU DON'T KNOW WHO--- okay, sit down so I can educate you 😤"
💎 Him and Velvet literally thrive on drama, idk what else to tell you
💎 (he might also spill some tea about his sister... nothing too incriminating, but like, a few embarrassing childhood stories couldn't hurt, right?)
💎 Late night talks are a MUST!! At some point in the night the two of you end up like... nestled under the covers of whatever fort you guys threw together... you're facing each other, heads centimeters apart as you share a pillow... whispering and giggling for no real reason...
💎 Maybe he vents a little about his insecurities and the way Velvet treats him, less like a brother and more like a shadow she can manipulate as she pleases... and maybe you grab his hand under the blanket... yknow, just to comfort him or whatever...
💎 Veneer only ever gets physical affection when he visits his parents, and even then it's just like? The bare minimum?? Pats on the head/shoulder/back, brief hugs, chaste kisses on his cheek— that kinda crap. And it's so tragic cuz this boy is literally the biggest little spoon to ever spoon. Like actually pls just hold him
💎 If he wakes up the next morning to find you laying behind him? Arms wound around his middle?? You face burried against his neck/shoulder blades/top of his head????
💎 He is not moving from that spot even after you wake up too <33
Cannibal, I absolutely ADORE YOU FOR THIS ASK!! LITERALLY SO FUN TO WRITE SAKLJASADKJSD THANK YOU SO MUCH <3333 (was originally gonna split this into two parts but was like, "nah, this ask deserves to be hella long" uwu)
Veneer redemption arc when??
92 notes · View notes
karlosace00 · 2 months
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Beauty.
Mileena x Fem!Reader
Tw: A bit of insecurity, description of Mileena’s Tarkat.
A/N: I hope you all enjoy this !!
You slowly rose from the bed both you and Mileena shared. Your hair was messy, your body tired yet your eyes continued to glisten with the sunlight that ran over your face. You noticed Mileena wasn’t in bed and you thought that wasn’t very usual. You slowly rose up, yawning and rubbing your eyes. You placed a robe around your body before hearing a growling sound coming from the bathroom. “Sweetheart..?” You called out and no answer was heard. hesitantly knock on the door, opening it slowly to see Mileena standing in front of the mirror, her eyes red with dilated pupils. Her teeth were sharp and her tongue was long, the outline of her mouth was red with red blood vessels popping out. Mileena quickly turned around, staring at you with a single tear falling from her left eye. You were hesitant to approach her. Before you could even react she pounced on you, she slowly unwrapped the top part of your robe, burying her head into your chest as you heard a sniffle. You felt your heart break very slowly, you slowly ran your fingers through her hair as you slowly cooed and told her everything would be okay. You moved your hand to her face, holding it and making her look up at you. You smiled, slowly and carefully rubbing the area around her mouth. “You’re still beautiful in my eyes, no matter what anyone says whether it’s passive aggressive to insults, you should never listen to them.” Her eyes widened slowly, hearing your words made her Tarkat-diseased mouth slowly go away. She kisses you on the lips, savoring the feeling and holding you close. “I could wish for nothing more from you, my dear. You make me realize that even with the curse, good can indeed come out of it and as a result, I have you.” She ran her fingers through your hair as she buried her head into your chest, she the warmth it provided. You slowly wrapped your arms around her waist, picking her up and carrying her back to the bed. You sat Mileena on the bed, her head still in-between your chest as you continued to compliment her beauty and how much she simply meant to you.
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sourpatchys · 3 months
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Title: Life in Carnet
Word count: 2.2k
Rating: PG-13, fluff. F!reader
Time: after Overhaul, before PLF
Summary: An issue has developed. Though, you can’t say you mind much. The future is yours.
A/n: This was supposed to be much longer and I may still add a second part later on, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for much too long and I decided it was finally time to just post it and let it out into the world!
Masterlist guidelines
The terrors of the underworld were almost too much for you at times. Watching over your shoulder just to be sure a knight in shining armor wouldn't pop out and slice you under the guise of misplaced justice.
There was no justice in a world so cruel. The arms of the masses kept those unfavorable in a tube. Never to be loved, never to be seen or heard. Though that tube would grow, freaks of nature holding hands inside the vessel, ready to break the glass.
It was almost poetic, knowing that loneliness could never touch you, it could only stand by and watch as you desecrated its makeshift grave.
You were not lonely— and you never would be again.
The deadly hands of the misunderstood held you close, a warm embrace that shunned all the coldness and misfortune in the world. You were like royalty, standing above those who were nothing but pawns ready to die for the cause.
You were not ready to die, you had finally spread your wings— you were ready to live.
And who better to stand by your side than the King of demise, Tomura Shigaraki.
In his own way, he had become the very thing he hated most— a symbol of peace. He gave hope to those the world had shamed, giving a reason to live to the ones left to rot in the gutters.
Hero's couldn't save everyone— Hero's didn't want to save everyone. Anyone who goes against their morals is doomed to suffer.
It pained you to see the children left to die on the streets, the addicts that had been deemed lost causes, and the broken who were left to crumble. You could see a piece of yourself in all of them, their rose tented glasses had been shattered and they were left to cut themselves on the glass.
Tomura didn't care much for any of them, and yet he had still managed to replace that in which had been broken.
He cared for the league, for the posey he had created with his own two hands. And he cared for you. The woman he saw cursing the world with blood stained hands.
Your introduction to the league wasn't pretty. You were dirty and untamed— having just taken the life of someone you held dear— there was darkness in your eyes.
No one asked you questions, no one made you feel like a freak. You became their healer— using your quirk to its fullest potential, never once holding back.
Your ability was known as the 'Touch of life'. Originally, you had hated your quirk. Being pawned off from person to person, forced to heal strangers who saw you as an object more than a person. Growing up you weren't allowed to attend school, forced to stay home and work— not a dime going into your pocket.
People were supposed to want to help people. That's what you had been told over and over again. You couldn't complain, you couldn't fight back or refuse to help.
You didn't want to help anymore.
The league never made you heal their scrapes and bruises, only asking for your services when it was absolutely necessary. You finally felt free— free to be a real human being.
And then Shigaraki, a man usually so careful with his hands, had sliced his palm. You couldn't even remember how— the memory had long since faded away. You grabbed him without thinking, taking his entire hand into your own, stitching the skin back together with a ray of light.
That's how you learned you were immune to decay. Your body fighting against his quirk so quickly it was at if he didn't have one at all.
And that's how you learned you loved your quirk after all.
Once it became apparent, he couldn't keep his hands off of you. He was like a wild animal hunting its prey— a touch starved villain feeling for the first time.
He was gentle with you, holding you close, running his calloused hands up and down your sides, forever in awe at the feel of your skin on his own. Awkward and untamed, vibrating with uncertainty and longing for more.
His kisses felt like fireworks, they seared into your skin, dangerous and yet oh so wonderful. He was addicted to you, and soon enough you were just as addicted to him.
Your relationship had no title— though with the way his scared lips would trail up your throat, nipping and pleading— you were sure it was love just the same.
Regardless of the tender kisses and soft touches, Shigaraki was still a deadly man. The king of the underworld, the high ruler of chaos.
So when you saw those glaring, unforgiving, bright pink lines, you found yourself being swallowed whole.
Your body was shaking, from fear or joy you couldn't be sure. It was unrealistic to bring a child into the world, especially when that world was crumbling— when the father was the one crumbling it.
You couldn't hold back a smile though, your anxieties fading quickly at the thought of a future. Placing your life giving hands over your abdomen— it felt right. You finally— undeniably— felt whole.
Dabi was the first one to notice you after you'd left the makeshift restroom, his piercing blue eyes looking you up in down with a frenzy.
"You look creepier than usual."
The rest of the leagues eyes met your own, their own curious glances boring into your soul.
"I have no idea what you mean by that— but I feel like I should be offended." You mocked a scoff, cocking your eyebrow in amusement.
Toga laughed, sitting up straight and tapping the cold cement floor beside her, urging you to sit with her. "You do look a little brighter than usual!"
You took the invitation, a small smile still grazing your lips. It was impossible to fully contain yourself— you were sure you'd explode if you had to reel in all of your facial expressions.
"I just got some good news is all— I wouldn't worry about it."
"Did that 12 handed freak finally propose or something?"
A small snort left your lips, "No, not to my knowledge. Speaking of— where is he?"
"Ohhh, so it does have to do with him!" Toga wiggled her eyebrows, giggling to herself.
Your relationship with Shigaraki wasn't a secret. Neither of you had said anything to anyone, but you weren't actively hiding it either— it just was.
Giving the teen a gentle shove you allowed yourself to let out a soft laugh of your own, "doesn't everything have to do with him?"
You got a strong mumble of agreement from the group, their annoyed expressions almost making you laugh fully.
"He said he'd be back before nightfall." Dabi finally metered, "Then again, who knows?"
Humming in response you decided to sit tight, pulling a heavily water damaged book out of your backpack.
— — —
Somewhere along the pages of Prince Charming finally realizing the girl of his dreams was only a few feet away— you had dozed off.
It wasn't often you got the privilege of sleep, the constant traveling and change of pace was hard on your body and mind. So being shaken awake wasn't exactly something you'd normally let slide— but seeing those carmine eyes so full of worry, you decided it wasn't a hill worth dying on today.
"Good morning." You sighed, slowly blinking the harsh tingling of your sleep deprived eyelids away.
Tomura wasn't amused by your lackluster approach, his body basically caging you in from where you sat, his eyes growing darker by the second.
"How are you feeling?"
At first his question confused you— your dreams still drifting away as reality tried to take over. Oh yes, that's right— he'd known you hadn't been feeling well.
If you weren't so sleepy you'd probably be more embarrassed over the fact that you had in fact— only grabbed a handful of pregnancy tests and booked it out of the closest convenience store. You hadn't even tried to get anything else.
A giggle left your lips as you leaned forward and gave your captor a kiss on the cheek, "it's fine don't worry about it."
Sighing he shifted so he was sitting beside you, his hand immediately grabbing yours. He loved holding your hand— you weren't sure if it was just to remind himself that he could or if it was lasting deprivation from being touched starved for so many years— but you couldn't find it in yourself to care, so long as he never let go.
"You haven't been eating right."
It was a statement meant to guilt you, to force you to tell him every single thing that's been bothering you— to outline your sickness in a bullet point list so he could take care of you.
"Is that so?" You turned to him with a raised brow, daring him to continue on with his spiel.
He, ever so observant, took the bait and ran with it.
"You can't keep anything down, you're light headed, and you're way too exhausted for everything to be fine." His voice broke a bit at the end, and with good reason. Not being in good health while simultaneously living on the streets isn't exactly a good combo.
He cared about you too much to let anything bad happen. After dealing with the yakuza he'd slowed down entirely, refusing to move too fast or too far until he knew exactly what needed to be done— all because you weren't feeling good. He'd never say it out loud— but it was easy to tell.
"It's not something I'll die from, modern medicine will make sure of that."
Turning his head and looking you up and down, he had a borderline disgusted look on his face.
"You've been sick for how long now? And you've shown no signs of getting better."
You hummed, putting your hand on your chin and pretending to think. "Yeah I'd say it's been a good two months now."
"This isn't a joke."
Giving him a serious expression, you replied "I know it isn't, you definitely aren't going to think it's funny—the league might though."
He smacked his head against the back of the crate the two of you were leaning on, looking up at the broken ceiling. "So you are dying."
"I already told you I won't die." You punched his arm, "I'll just be out of commission for a little while."
"And what, exactly, does that mean?"
You let out a nervous laugh, leaning your head on his shoulder, "it means next time we go out we're gonna have to steal some prenatal vitamins."
You felt his body stiffen under you after a few minutes, his mind putting the dots together painfully slowly. This isn't exactly how you thought this conversation would go— though knowing Tomura, he'd never expected this conversation at all.
"Oh."
Afraid to see his expression, you kept your eyes towards the floor, squeezing his hand that was still wrapped in yours.
"Is that okay..?"
It was silent for a while, the sound of the other members snoring being the only noises keeping you sane. You knew this may not go over well, even as excited as you were, Tomura had an entire world to destroy, he had people to kill and a kingdom to build. How would a baby fit into that life?
Finally, you felt a large inhale from under you— taking that as permission you looked up to his face, surprised when you saw the fond look in his eyes and the soft smile on his lips.
"Yeah, that's more than okay."
You sat up, lifting your head off of his shoulder to look him directly in the eyes, awe, ever apparent, on your face.
"Really? You aren't mad?"
A dastardly grin made its way onto his face, his pearly white teeth glistening in the moonlight. Truly— it was a sight to behold.
"I don't see anything wrong with carrying on my lineage— especially not with you." He chuckled, a dark frenzy coming into his eyes, "besides, you hang back anyways, nothings going to hurt you."
You thought on his words. It was technically true, being a healer meant you weren't fighting so much as laying low and taking care of the aftermath— the only change you could see happening is you not being on the battlefield at all, staying at the base until they returned.
But that came with some risks on its own.
"You're taking this better than I thought you would."
That same gleam was in his eyes as he looked you over, his hands making their way around your waist as he pulled you into a tight embrace, inhaling the scent of your not-so-freshly washed hair.
"I suppose I should be nervous. But I always knew this was a risk." He took in a breath, a laugh passing through as he thought it over, "I'm ready for anything. I'm going to destroy this world, but that doesn't mean I can't make my own in the process."
The Tomura before you was different than the one you had fallen in love with. He was different than the one that pulled you off the street and gave you a reason to live— this Tomura was confident, this Tomura had a plan.
This Tomura knew what he wanted.
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theravenclawlover · 2 years
Text
🎃Kinktober Day 3🎃
Day Prompt: Fisting/Stuck in Wall/Sweat
Word Count: 847
Warnings: +18 (MDI), “C” word usage, enclosed spaces, large crowds, Poly!Marauders, no Peter, alcohol, possibly triggering for anyone with claustrophobia.  
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Lily Evans x F!Reader
It was funny, really. Stupid even. But it definitely wasn’t something neither you nor Lily could have foreseen. The day had started incredibly well, everything going according to plan with your and lily’s plan for the Hallowe’en party that had been in the making since the second Autumn made itself known. Lily and you shared many things in common, but the thing that made you both best friends back in Hogwarts was the shared love for spooky season. So, today was meant to go flawlessly otherwise one of you would pop a blood vessel. And to a degree, it had. Remus and Sirius had done wonderfully by taking care of the food and drinks that would be consumed throughout the night; James had—surprisingly—managed to get the list of the decorations he had been given, and even added some things he had deemed would be a perfect addition. You and Lily had rewarded him nicely before the party had started; Remus and Sirius also received something too, of course.
But things had gone downhill soon after your and Lily’s apartment had gotten a little too packed. No one had remembered to set a limit to those invited, and thus the extended invitations had gone forgotten. And it was so loud. The neighbors weren’t home which was a beautiful gift even if they weren’t throwing a party. But the number of people was beyond anyone could have guessed, to the point that walking around was complicated, and it was easy to get pushed. And it was so hot in there that some people kept going outside, or had an extended party outside too. But your cute little slutty bunny costume was not made for the crips night, nor was Lily’s sexy pirate.
But at one point, everyone had chosen to stay inside. That’s when things got complicated, all over again. You and Lily had gone to get more cold drinks while everyone was being loud and chatty in the living room. The kitchen was packed too, and the fridge had been raided.
“Nothing,” you said before dragging Lily with you to the small cabinet where the rest of the beers had been hidden and were warm rather than cold. It was so small in there that only Lily fit, but in your journey to get the task done, you forced your body halfway to pick the twelve pack, but—like the first time you had gone in—you got stuck.
Lily had taken her sweet minute laughing at you while you practically stood there bent over, arms crossed, and a deep frown. Not like she could see it. But then, to worsen the situation, the kitchen filled up even more with loud and drunk people. Thus, Lily got pushed flushed against you. Her crotch right on your fishnet-covered butt cheeks. It did push you further a bit more.
“Get me out of here!” you hissed turning to look at Lily. You had expected her to look annoyed with everyone, but her eyes were fixed on your ass. Hands just flat on the swell of them. You hadn’t even noticed when her skin had made contact with yours, more focused on fixing your embarrassing situation.
“Li-” you got cut short when her warm hands traveled up and down your legs before grabbing a handful of your ass without shame.
Your hot body was now beyond what should be normal. It was almost feverish, you could feel your forehead sweating, your hair was beginning to stick to all the overheated skin it could find.
Lily’s forefinger trailed from the back of your neck down to the flimsy slit that covered your pussy. Your hands were quick to cover the moan that threatened to slip. Even in the noisy kitchen you were sure someone was bound to hear it. It was one of those things you just knew some dirty minded person couldn’t ignore. And there were plenty you knew.
But Lily seemed focused and on a mission. The more she teased, the more you couldn’t tell what was making a mess of you: your slick or the collecting sweat.
The parts of the fishnet that covered you were definitely soaked, and it was confirmed when Lily moved the clothing aside so her fingers could feel you.
“Fuck,” she hissed, and without warning, two of her fingers slipped in.
You almost fell forward as your knees buckled. You held yourself steady by putting your hands flat on the walls that were encasing you. Thank Merlin you weren’t claustrophobic.
Lily was so focused on your pussy swallowing her slim fingers that she wasn’t aware of her surroundings.
“Didn’t think you had in you, Evans,” said a voice behind the both of you.
Lily’s fingers pulled back from your clenching cunt. You gasped at both the voice and the sudden removal of Lily’s fingers.
You turned your head to see Remus, James, and Sirius obscuring the view from any prying eyes, but their eyes were on your very exposed cunt. All of them eyeing you like candy.
“Got room for us?”
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midnightshade · 3 months
Text
🏮 𝐀 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 🏮 | Kenjaku's reaction to seeing you in lingerie
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𖤐 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,603
𖤐 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Female Reader, Reader has a pussy, Third-Person POV, not beta read, biting to draw blood, creampie, light choking, slight breeding kink
𖤐 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: N/A
𖤐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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"I'll be back soon."
A lone woman walked through the streets of Tokyo, tucking her phone back into her pocket as the call ended. To anyone else on the street, she was a normal woman. In reality, she was anything but.
She was centuries old despite her youthful appearance, but then, this wasn't her original body. Coming from the Kamakura era, she had only managed to cheat death with the aid of one man.
Kenjaku.
Ever since the two of them met, she had been faithfully serving as his assistant. He liked her enough to continue bringing her back from death, using the bodies of others as suitable vessels.
It never bothered her, knowing that someone else had to die for her to come back. She refused to feel guilty about living and she was thankful to Kenjaku for the continued gift of life.
For centuries, she had been loyal to him, not out of obligation, but out of want. He made life interesting; she enjoyed his company.
She loved him.
Staying with Kenjaku, making him happy – It was enough for her.
The crowd carried her with them through the busy streets like the current of a river, and she allowed herself to be pulled along. She took the time to sightsee, looking around at all the different shops and stalls from clothing stores to arcades and food stands.
Occasionally, she would pop in and browse the selections, but none seemed to catch her eye today. . .except for one.
She stumbled over her own feet, nearly colliding with a man in front of her. Quickly regaining her balance, she pushed her way out of the crowd and towards the shop.
It was small and easy to miss, tucked away between two larger buildings. The face of the building was styled like a traditional Japanese minka house, and the sign was written in ink calligraphy, broadcasting its primary wares: lingerie.
The juxtaposition between this traditional style and the items being sold immediately piqued her interest. She stepped inside, finding the theming on the outside to be consistent with the interior. The shop was designed like a tea room, with clean tatami mats.
She took her shoes off, spotting a place to leave them before continuing inside. There were a variety of different mannequins dressed up in different styles of lingerie.
A worker spotted her, coming over to greet her and welcome her into the store with a polite bow. "Hello! May I help you today? Looking for anything in particular?"
As she examined the store, a mischievous idea began to form in her mind. She walked over to one of the mannequins, examining the high quality material it was dressed in.
"Yes, please. I would appreciate the help."
──────
An artificial night had fallen within Dagon's Domain. The ocean waves lapped at the shore, creating a tranquil atmosphere that stretched towards the Tiki Hut sitting just beyond the treeline.
The building was of modest make, containing only two bedrooms, a kitchenette, and a shower. Curses may not need to sleep or eat, but their human allies did.
One of whom stood within the master bedroom, adjusting her new outfit in front of a full-length mirror.
She admired her form, running her hands up her body and over the red rope that mapped itself across her skin. The lingerie was styled after shibari, made of soft threaded rope that allowed easy access to her bare chest and pussy.
The only thing keeping her modesty was a silken robe overtop, styled loosely after a yukata. It was black with a red floral pattern. Red lace adorned the front, along with red stitching on the seams.
This type of luxury was a rarity for her to indulge in, but it had been a while since she and Kenjaku did something like this. This was as much a surprise gift for him as it had been for her.
The thought of that made her heart skip a beat. Even after centuries spent at his side, it was still so easy to feel like a lovestruck teenager doing these types of things.
The ivory sheets felt cool to the touch as she climbed into the master bed. She closed her eyes, breathing out slowly as she moved her hands down her body, relaxing against the plush surface.
Kenjaku would be back any minute now. His face would be priceless, she was sure of it. She suppressed a giggle, imagining it, as her hands moved down to the in-between on her thighs.
Her giggles died down, turning into soft moans as she spread her folds apart with her fingers. Her cunt clenched around nothing and she bit her lip, already imagining Kenjaku on top of her.
"Fuck. . .Kenjaku," she moaned out, her now trembling fingers beginning to rub at her throbbing clit.
She dipped her fingers down, collecting some of the slick that was beginning to build as her arousal grew, but she didn't get far before she heard the sound of footsteps approaching.
Kenjaku was home.
For a moment, she found herself conflicted. Should she stop now or should she keep going and let him watch?
Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away from her core, sitting up and adjusting her robe so that she was properly covered. Shs was just in time, as the door opened with a silent 'click' just as she finished adjusting her robe.
Kenjaku walked in through the bedroom door. Unlike usual, he was not wearing his Gojo-kesa, instead opting for a pair of black pants and a black shirt.
It's not like it mattered. The vessel he was in now, Suguru Geto, was more than handsome enough to pull off just about any look. Kenjaku's confidence always helped as well.
He paused in the doorway, his eyes immediately landing on her form, sprawled out seductively on the bed.
"Welcome home," she purred. Her voice was dripping in amusement as she watched Kenjaku. She would be lying if she said she didn't feel the slightest bit proud of herself for managing to catch him off guard.
Any trace of surprise was quickly wiped from his face, replaced with his typical self-assured smile that she'd come to love so much.
He walked over to the bed, his eyes never once leaving hers. He stopped in front of her, and his hand came to rest against her cheek. She closed her eyes, immediately leaning into his touch.
"Isn't this a pleasant surprise," he soothed. "What's the occasion?"
At his question, she chuckled and kissed his palm. "Do I need an occasion to surprise you? Maybe I just wanted to show my appreciation."
His hand moved down from her cheek to wrap around her throat. His grip was firm, but not enough to harm her. She gasped, pupils dilating as her skin prickled with anticipation.
He made her look at him, and she clenched her thighs together when she saw his gaze clouded with lust.
"Who am I to deny you, then? If you're so eager to offer yourself up to me, I think I'd like to unwrap my gift."
She breathed out, already feeling heady with anticipation. All she could manage was a small nod, which seemed to be enough as Kenjaku firmly pushed her back against the bed.
The bed sank as Kenjaku climbed into bed with her, not bothering with his own clothing as he loomed over her. He leaned down to catch her lips in a kiss, squeezing a little more firmly as he did.
Kissing Kenjaku was always an event. Whether he was being rough or slow, his kisses were always hungry and filled with passion. He bit at her bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. The sting of pain was welcome, and she opened her mouth to him, allowing his tongue to slip inside her mouth without argument.
As Kenjaku kissed her, his hands began to roam up and down her body, feeling the lace of her robe and groping at her tits through the fabric. She held his face in her palms as she kissed him back with equal passion, moaning even as she tasted her own blood. She nipped playfully at his tongue, arching her back to be closer to him.
Kenjaku began to grind himself against her, and she could feel how hard he was getting already just by kissing her. Feeling coy, she removed one of her hands from his face, rubbing at his clothed erection.
He growled against her lips, breaking the kiss. He stared down at her, lips bruised and bleeding from his bite. His own cheeks were flushed slightly.
He grabbed her wrist, pulling it away from his aching cock. When she whined, he grinned down at her.
"Needy, aren't we? You never were very patient," he teased
She pouted at the accusation. "You're not much better right now. You look like you're about to cum in your pants."
Kenjaku laughed, releasing her wrist. "Maybe we're both a little pent up. These last few weeks have been busy."
He wasn't wrong. With their plans finally so close to starting, the last several weeks had been a whirlwind of activity just ensuring everything would run smoothly. It was as exciting as it was stressful.
They hardly had a moment to themselves anymore.
Her gaze softened slightly as she sat up, reaching to kiss the stitches along his forehead. No matter what body he was in, she only loved him.
"Then use me however you'd like tonight," she whispered, pressing more gentle kisses against the stitching.
Kenjaku shivered at her touch, suppressing a breathy moan. His stitches were always a sensitive spot for him, and the offer of doing whatever he wanted was just too good. His dick throbbed painfully in anticipation.
His eyes immediately went back to her robe, admiring the outfit as he traced the red lace. "This suits you. You should dress like this more often."
She smiled at the compliment, directing his hand to the sash that kept the robe closed. "You haven't even seen the actual outfit yet. I picked it out just for you."
Kenjaku moved her back against the bed, letting her settle down before he finally pulled the knot. He opened the robe, admiring the sight laid out before him.
"Beautiful," he groaned, tracing his hand over her bare skin. He watched as her skin prickled under his touch, as if every cell in her body rose with anticipation to be touched by him.
He looked down, seeing her petals were dripping with her arousal and her cunt was clenching around nothing, desperate to be fucked.
She looked up at him in anticipation, but before Kenjaku gave her what she wanted, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, exposing his muscular chest. The X-shaped scar across his Vessel's chest always caught her eye, and she couldn't help but to reach up and trace it.
Kenjaku hummed at the touch, allowing her to smooth her hand over his skin while he pulled his cock free from the confines of his pants. He sighed in relief as his dick sprung loose, hard and throbbing.
Suguru's body certainly didn't disappoint. The man was a work of art; lithe and muscular like a wild cat with that long, silky black hair she could spend hours playing with. His cock was long and thick, curving gently up with a supple head.
"You really are needy," she teased, watching as pearls of pre-cum dripped down the side of his shaft.
"You're no better," he responded, quickly folding her legs back as he mounted her.
She felt his cockhead nudge against her entrance and she relaxed, feeling him begin to push his way inside of her. Both of them groaned as he slotted himself inside, her velvety soft walls gripping his shaft and sucking him in deeper.
His pelvis met her own when he finally sheathed himself fully inside. Time stood still as they savored this moment, adjusting to the blissful embrace of each other's bodies.
"You always feel so good for me," he said, leaning in and pressing his forehead against hers. "No matter what vessel. This pussy of yours takes me so well."
She grinned shakily, pecking at his lips. "So glad I can make myself useful."
As Kenjaku began to rock his hips, starting a steady rhythm, he hummed and closed his eyes, savoring each blissful drag of her walls against his cock.
"No one else," he muttered, his voice trailing off as he failed to finish the thought, choosing instead to focus on kissing and nipping at her jaw.
She moaned as he began to fuck into her, the room quickly filling with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Her thoughts began to grow fuzzy, lost in the feelings of pleasure he was giving her.
Kenjaku's expression was beautiful, and it struck her that she was the only one lucky enough to see him like this regularly. Mouth parted, eyebrows furrowed, and his pale face dusted a pretty shade of pink.
She would gladly sacrifice her body to him like this any time he asked. This was all she wanted in return – to bring him pleasure and comfort.
Kenjaku's hands held her thighs back against her chest as he properly mounted her, getting more aggressive with his thrusts as his pleasure began to climb.
He smothered her cries with a hungry kiss, forcing his tongue back inside her mouth as he began to jackhammer his hips into hers. His touch was no longer just firm, it was rough.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, gasping into his mouth as his dick throbbed deep inside of her, desperate to fill her with his seed.
His fat cockhead pounded against her cervix as he violently bucked into her, his hips colliding with hers and leaving bruises, proof of his love for her.
Kenjaku's fat balls smacked rhythmically with his thrusts, each time sending sparks of pleasure careening through his body. He moaned, grinding into her with every thrust.
"I should have put a baby in you years ago," he panted against her lips. "I'll have to make up for lost time."
She clenched hard around his shaft, gasping in delight at the thought. Her nails dug into his back as she cried out. "Please! Kenjaku, please. Don't pull out."
He grinned, moving one hand away from her thigh to pull her hair, forcing her to bare her throat. He bit down harshly, leaving a mark as he growled out, "Everyone will know you're mine."
The pleasure reached a fever pitch as they both reached their climax. Her body locked and spasmed as she pulsed around him, sucking him in deeper. Kenjaku breathed in sharply, emptying his balls deep inside of her.
She could feel his dick twitching with every pulse, painting her insides white, and for several moments, they stayed like that, enjoying the comfort of each other's bodies.
When Kenjaku finally let her thighs down, she collapsed onto the bed, totally spent. Her chest heaved with effort, but her entire body felt heavy and relaxed.
Kenjaku didn't pull out, instead opting to pull her on top of him as he laid back against the cool sheets. He pressed soft kisses against her face, petting her hair as he basked in the afterglow.
He rubbed his hand down her back, taking another opportunity to admire the lingerie she had gotten just for him.
He smiled, pulling her closer as she began to drift off, his cock still snuggly slotted inside of her.
"Thank you for this gift."
©Midnightshade. All rights reserved. Do NOT repost, reupload, or modify my works. Do not translate my works, do not link to them or recommend them on other websites, and do not use them for AI training
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39 notes · View notes
violetarks · 1 year
Note
Hi! Could you maybe do some Chishiya x asexual reader headcanons? (like how he acts towards the reader while in only romantic and nonsexual relationships)?
I hope you understand what I asked.
"you'd come over and say i looked lovely."
show: alice in borderland
character: chishiya shuntaro
summary: how he would be in a relationship with someone who is asexual
warnings: g/n! reader, second person pov, slight s2 spoilers, headcanons, if anyone has some pointers, please tell me!!
i don't believe he'd be so fussed about dating someone who is asexual
like he really wouldn't mind if you preferred to keep sexual contact to a low, or if you would rather cut it out all together
i feel like he keeps to himself most of the time anyway, so it wouldn't be much of a difference
the most he would do is a kiss, one that doesn't succeed more than five seconds (and this is typically done in private)
he would usually do this before or after a game where you're separated during beach games, since its unpredictable and he knows that while you can hold your own, it's not the same for everyone else
they could bring you down with them, or make you miss your step
he just wants you to know that he loves you, and he can't exactly express it that well in words
will ask for your boundaries as soon as you tell him you're asexual
if you don't feel comfortable discussing them, then he will ask you to stop him when he gets too close, or he makes you feel uncomfortable
doesn't want you to feel ashamed in any way
didn't push you to sleep in the same bed as him when the two of you decided to move into the same room
said he would sleep across the hall if it meant you would still feel comfortable
the first time you tried to cuddle, he was as stiff as a board
if you like cuddling, then you would hold his hand at the start, and a few minutes later, he'll ask if you want him to hold you
if you say yes, its a shy arm around your waist and him constantly asking "is this okay?" in the quietest voice ever
if you say no, then he's more than satisfied with just holding your hand throughout the night (might be a bit wary of how sweaty his hands are going to become throughout your sleep)
if you don't like cuddling, then your nights are filled with some talk about the day or the game you played, sometimes even just what your life was like beforehand
chishiya isn't one to talk so much, so he leaves it to you to fill the space
he likes hearing your voice
at some point niragi has made some unfavourable comment about you either to your face or chishiya's
resulted in a snide remark from your boyfriend's part that really made niragi pop a blood vessel, and if aguni overheard at all then he'd be on that guy's ass for it (i believe aguni to be a very respectable man, probably hit niragi for every person he hit on)
chishiya wouldn't hold back on insults to those who make such comments about you
would go as far as to lead them astray during a game so he doesn't have to deal with them
doesn't tolerate bullshit
will outright say in public, a hotel full of listening ears, that the person's actions are disgusting
his quick-wit is everyone else's downfall when it comes to you
on the other hand, if you hear someone say something about you that you feel uncomfortable with, it will go two ways:
if you don't like confrontation too much, then a small glare their way along with chishiya's remarks will be enough to send them way
if you don't mind confrontation, then chishiya will watch as you march up to them and say some things he can't quite hear, but the looks on their faces is all he needs to understand
puts more effort into showing you he loves you in acts of service
he really just doesn't know how to say it properly, so he will do things for you
chishiya: "here"
y/n: "oh, a taser... thank you, shuntaro"
chishiya: "use it for your next game"
y/n: "i will, this looks cool"
chishiya: "make sure you charge it"
y/n: "sure thing"
chishiya: "don't die... please?"
y/n: ",,, i won't, since you asked so nicely"
he grabs you a drink or a snack when he goes to get some, making sure to ask if you didn't like certain things
he fixes the bed while you're getting ready
he grabs you a phone when a game begins so you don't have to rush to get one
its in his actions that he really shines
tries to show his romantic side more
he has little romantic side
as in, he struggles with planning dates or whatever, he just likes to spend time around you
like you're reading a book or you're making something, and he'll sit beside you and watch
but he lives for the look on your face when he does go out of his way to plan something romantic
a nice night out under the stars, or a picnic in the afternoon
you really appreciate all he does, and he's glad he is able to show you his love this way
understands that even if a form of contact wasn't meant by a person to be sexual, that it can still come off that way amd make the other uncomfortable
so he's very careful with you
the most contact is holding your hand, a warm hug or an arm around your shoulder/waist
he wants you to know that you don't have to do anything with him
he simply loves you
not whatever you could do for him
you never feel pressured by him
maybe the first time he put a hand on your lower back, to move you slightly out of the way while he passed you, he noticed your reaction no matter how small
and he made a mental note not to do that again without your knowledge
he doesn't enjoy the feeling he gets when something happens and you tell him that you didn't like something he did
he doesn't actively go out of his way to initiate any sexual contact
at the beginning of your relationship, you distinctly said you didn't enjoy nor want him to touch or talk to you in a sexual way
and he agreed to never, under no circumstances, ever do that
in fact, he sat beside you and told you all the things he loved about you
your smile, your laugh, how you held his hand in yours
he spent the rest of the night reassuring you, making sure you knew why he liked you so much
upon the feeling of acceptance by your boyfriend, you could break into tears
if you do, he's right there beside you to hold your hand and comfort you
he knows people could be rude, and maybe some dismissed you from their lives, but he counts them as foolish
who would be so stupid as to cut you off?
just because you don't like being touch that way didn't make you any less valuable to love
if the topic of a family comes up, he leaves it entirely up to you
he's not too fussed about whether or not the two of you adopt
if you want to, then he's good with that
he's not terrible with kids, he's quite good actually with his line of work
if you don't want to, chishiya won't make big deal of it
just because he's good with children doesn't mean he wants to have a full time job taking care of them
now if you are a touchy person, chishiya won't mind
he's happy with you clinging to him every moment, following him around like a lost puppy, nudging his knuckles to hold his hand
while he is not a touchy person and makes notes on where you don't like being touched, he likes having you around all the time
if it turns out you're not such a touchy person, he's more than happy keeping it to a minimum
will learn how to show his love through his words more for you
isn't afraid to ask if he needs to change his behaviour a little
while he won't do a full 360°, he will actively try to keep you feeling safe around him
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soundwavemain · 1 year
Text
Hold Your Heart In My Hands
A JazzWave fic requested by @fanficmaniatic | @karday 
General content warning for blood and tending to an injury.
In the surveillance room, Soundwave often found solace from his rowdy compatriots. No one bothered to step foot inside, not even his cassettes who were frankly too nosy for their own good. If anyone did accidentally enter the infamous surveillance room, they were subject to an interrogation from the Decepticon’s intimidating communications officer. Soundwave wasn’t stupid–he knew that not many aboard the Nemesis truly enjoyed his company. They were too put off by his stilted speech, his silent E.M. field, and his blank stare to attempt any friendly banter let alone stumble upon his secret sanctuary.
Of course, the surveillance room was the one place on the Nemesis that didn’t have any cameras monitoring it. Not even the hallway directly outside the door had a screen to display movement. With three vents leading to the room and how much time Soundwave spent inside it, it would be embarrassingly easy to off such an important member of Decepticon high command. Not that Soundwave was worried. He could handle almost anyone among their ranks and it wasn’t like the Autobots had enough gall to attack their vessel.
A tiny noise filtered through one of the vents. Soundwave stared at it as the sound of metal against metal slowly increased in volume until the vent cover popped off with a resounding slam! He sighed, covering his visor with his servo. Another clang echoed in the room as something much heavier than a vent cover landed on the floor. Soundwave dragged his servo across his faceplate. He should’ve erased the mech’s damn memory of this route. It would’ve been simple enough to restrain him, open up his helm, pick apart his processor to locate and lock the strain in his core files.
Instead, Soundwave snapped at the mech on his floor, “Jazz: not welcome here.”
Jazz smirked at Soundwave. He moved so his spinal strut rested against the wall. “C’mon, mech. You didn’t say that last time–”
“Jazz: desist,” Soundwave hissed to the spy’s amusement.
They both knew there would be no removing Jazz by physical means before he wanted to leave. Soundwave turned back to his wall of monitors. If Jazz insisted on staying, then Soundwave needed to do his best to ignore him. His optics followed the movements on the screens. Skywarp was testing her teleportation limits with Shockwave, Rumble and Frenzy were running from an oil-slicked Starscream, Shadow Striker raced through the halls, narrowly dodging mechs walking through the hallways, Hook removed a rogue missile from Vortex’s chassis–
A sharp tug at Soundwave’s processor nearly made him fall forward from the sudden abrasiveness of it. He managed to stay upright but his frame locked up. The pull dissipated to a weak pulse of energy. Soundwave had felt sensations much stronger than it many times outside the surveillance room. A damaged mech on the battlefield automatically requesting medical aid from a grievous injury, a cassette shot down while performing reconnaissance–they always released a distressing field to garner pity from nearby mechs.
Soundwave whipped around to stare down at Jazz who, while not under the Decepticon’s watchful gaze, had let his faceplate slip into a grimace. All at once, Soundwave realized Jazz’s E.M. field loosened from its tight shield held close to the mech’s plating and it was suddenly too difficult to ignore. The third in command moved without conscious thought, dropping to kneel beside the Autobot that had invaded the Nemesis time and time again.
“Jazz: injured?” Soundwave tried cautiously.
He had seen the other mech on the battlefield enough times to know that Jazz acted like a cybercat when hurt–he’d slink off when no one was paying attention to tend to his own wounds.
Once, in the aftermath of a particularly brutal battle, Soundwave went searching for a cassette that had gone missing in the fray. Instead, he had found Jazz splayed out on the ground with a giant chunk of his spinal strut sparking, incapable of movement. He could’ve terminated the mech–no one had ever caught the elusive Jazz with his guard down–but when Soundwave raised his blaster, Jazz merely tilted his helm back. As if the matter of deactivation was beyond him.
It irked him. It set off alarms across his HUD. Yet…
Soundwave had healed Jazz that day. Behind a cracked rock, Soundwave welded some wires closed–a butchered job at field medicine but it allowed the Autobot to crawl back to a real medic.
Now, Jazz winced, tilting his helm away. “Hope that offer’s still on the table. Even though we’re not… you know.”
Soundwave sighed in exasperation. Leave it to Jazz to use the worst words to describe their–don’t call it a relationship, it’s not a damned courtship–liaison. That was worse. He grabbed at Jazz’s arm, popping a piece of armor off to reveal the medical ports hidden beneath.
“Hey.” Jazz attempted to pull his arm back but his strength was waning. “Not even gonna offer a mech some energon first?”
Yes, Soundwave thought bitterly as he jammed one of his plugs into Jazz’s medical port, this was definitely worse. He ignored the other mech’s comments as he called upon the frame’s diagnostic data. His HUD lit up in an instant with notifications. He went through them, noting any concerning input before coming across a notice flashing red across his visor. A laceration in the upper chassis caused by rapid and continued movement jostling an embedded–
“You were shot?” Soundwave suddenly hissed, surprise overriding his vocalizer patch. He tried to look at Jazz in the optics but the spy kept avoiding his gaze. “Jazz: found by Decepticons?” His processor ran a mile a minute, formulating scenarios that would end in this exact outcome. He had never asked what brought the spy to his surveillance room that one fateful night, what kept him coming back for more, out of respect for both their sensitive jobs, but now Soundwave couldn’t help but wonder who among his ranks shot his–
“Not a Decepticon,” Jazz hissed. “An Autobot.”
“Oh.” That silenced Soundwave’s processor for a moment. Then it only piqued his interest. “Autobots: subject to insubordination?”
If the Autobots began attacking their own, they might be even easier to fell in a sweep led by Starscream should Megatron allow it…
A digit tapped Soundwave’s helm, bringing him back to the conversation. Right. Jazz was injured. And Soundwave was already planning the Autobots’ demise. He reset his vocalizer to ensure it didn’t needlessly glitch out on him again.
Before he had a chance to say anything, Jazz smirked at him and asked, “Soundwave: apologetic?”
The Decepticon couldn’t help the way his pauldrons hiked in his embarrassment. It was a far cry from a perfect mimicry of his voice but it didn’t need to be to get the point across. Instead of deigning Jazz with a proper response, he finally located the bullet wound and dug his digits in. Jazz hissed, batting at his arm.
“Easy, mech.”
“Jazz: not easy,” Soundwave mocked. He pressed his free servo against the other mech’s collar faring as his digits searched for the bullet.
It felt odd to be sticking his servo somewhere so close to Jazz’s spark, like an uncomfortable pinch to his sensornet’s common stimuli. This close, he couldn’t ignore the normally silent spy. Not just his words–Jazz’s entire frame seemed to work under the assumption that no one was authorized to listen to it. So the freed E.M. field, the frantic and nonsensical thought processes filtering through his audials, were… odd to say the least. He couldn’t mention it aloud, though. Knowing the intelligence officer, he’d scare the poor mech away by mentioning any of his internal functions.
Soundwave’s digits knocked against something. He checked Jazz’s faceplate and when he didn’t contort it any more than it already was, Soundwave grasped the object. It was small, solid–the bullet. As he began to remove it, Jazz’s servo covered his. He paused, staring at the Autobot’s blank visor. “Bullet: needs to be removed. Frame nanites cannot begin self-healing with alien object obstructing their–”
Jazz gritted his dentae to ignore the pain. “If that bullet comes out, you’re gonna have worse problems than a dead Autobot on your hands.”
“Earth slang,” Soundwave tutted.
At that, Jazz grinned. “This Earth slang got pretty far with you, didn’t it?”
Soundwave twisted his digits. “Desist,” he ordered.
“Scrap. I got the message, mech.” Jazz pushed at Soundwave’s arm. They were still attached. Somehow, that was more embarrassing than being servo-deep in the mech’s chassis. “‘s a tracking bullet.”
The Decepticon froze. An Autobot shot Jazz with a tracking bullet. An Autobot shot Jazz with a tracking bullet. Soundwave’s frame moved subconsciously, pressing the blaster he kept tucked away in his subspace against Jazz’s mandible. The barrel forced Jazz to tilt his helm back. He batted at Soundwave’s arm like he wasn’t being held at gunpoint. Like Soundwave wasn’t flinging his energon everywhere.
“Relax,” Jazz insisted, hissing low. “It won’t send a locator beacon.” He pushed at Soundwave’s arm–not the one aiming a gun at his helm. No. The one still forming a medical connection between the two mechs. “My security protocols deactivated my internal locator beacon millennia ago. Which means,” he drawled, visor flickering, “the bullet’s signal is blocked as long as it’s in my frame.”
It made sense, Soundwave reasoned with all of his processing that still argued to kill Jazz–annihilate the enemy, the threat to his cassettes. He shook his helm. Those logic strains were based on irrational emotions. It wouldn’t do him well to give them any credence. Still, his blaster remained where it was. “Jazz: true purpose for coming here. Answer now.”
Usually, anyone–Autobot and Decepticon–trembled at the rumble in Soundwave’s glyphs when he took on a threatening tone. Under normal circumstances, the Decepticon’s third in command could paint fear in the spark of any mech he spoke to.
Jazz was not an average mech.
His servo tugged at Soundwave’s, pulling it closer to his chassis. “Gonna make me say it, huh.” He wasn’t asking. He knew. Soundwave wasn’t the type of mech to do anything unless he was asked and he would make Jazz ask. “You’ve got those seismic waves, right? I’ve seen you use them on the battlefield. Destroyed everything in your path.” He pressed Soundwave’s servo flat against his wound. “Think you can focus that right here for me?”
Soundwaves were catastrophic weapons. They could deactivate an entire squadron of mechs in a matter of kliks. Soundwave only used the trick when under extreme stress, when he believed he had nothing left to lose. He attempted to separate himself from Jazz. “Seismic waves: incredibly damaging.”
But Jazz didn’t seem to comprehend the magnitude of his request. He pressed forward, clutching Soundwave’s servo. “When used by a random mech, sure. You’re not just anybody, Sounds.” His glyphs turned to a soft buzzing static as he said the Decepticon’s designation. It left Soundwave checking to see if the noise had knocked his gyros off kilter. “C’mon. You can focus that power here, can’t you?”
“Jazz: requires medical assistance,” Soundwave tried instead. He couldn’t escape Jazz’s iron-clad grip on his servo but knew that if Jazz persisted, it wouldn’t end well. He could deactivate him. “Soundwave: incapable of completing request.”
“Hey,” came Jazz’s gentle voice. Soundwave silently cursed how the tender intonation made it so his spark eased in its casing. The Autobot reached for his other servo, the one holding the blaster. It fell with a clatter as Jazz slid his digits across his palm and intertwined their digits. “Use that big, beautiful processor of yours. I know you’re still searching through our connection. You’ve gotta be able to see my spark readings. What do they say?”
Despite the uneasiness that continued to plague Soundwave’s field, he listened to Jazz. It was simple enough to pull the information from their link. His visor dimmed as the readings filled his HUD.
He froze.
Although Jazz was suffering from an injury, trapped under the stress from energon loss, his spark spun at an even pace. Soundwave’s visor brightened to the image of Jazz’s calm faceplate. 
“I trust you, Soundwave.”
Oh.
Oh.
And wasn’t that just a terrifying thing? Soundwave held his enemy’s life in his servos. He didn’t even want to take it–what kind of Decepticon was he? He stared at where his servo still covered Jazz’s wound, then at the rapidly dimming blue visor.
“Soundwave: will try,” he said slowly.
The smile Jazz threw his way sent his spark spinning again. He busied himself by building up seismic waves to the speed of his spark. A low, constant hum filled the surveillance room as the waves traveled through his arm. He increased the force, the hum turning into a deep, plating-rattling rumble. Multiple pop-ups filled his HUD. He cleared them before they could convince him to stop. The bullet was deteriorating from the collisions. Soundwave could do this. He could do this for Jazz. Red flashed across his optics as he doubled down. They only needed to hold out just a bit longer. He watched the last pieces of the tracking bullet evaporate, entering Jazz’s fuel lines to be discarded.
Soundwave did it.
He saved Jazz.
“Jazz–!”
The glyphs turned into a frenzied static as Soundwave finally looked at Jazz’s grey visor. All too suddenly, the sensation of the other mech’s limp grip registered to Soundwave’s overtaxed processor. An odd, warbled noise echoed in the surveillance room. It took him a moment to realize that the sound came from him.
“Jazz,” he whispered, leaning close to the other mech.
There wasn’t the comforting thrum of a spark easing into a normal spin rate, no readings going into the green as Jazz’s frame finally relaxed while its nanites worked to repair him–only silence.
“Jazz,” he tried again. “Jazz: respond.”
Nothing.
“Jazz,” his glyphs were basically static at that point, cracking from the force on his vocalizer, “respond.”
It felt like a cacophony of sensations–the hum of mechs speaking through the monitors, the constant buzz of the equipment, the erratic vents coming from Soundwave. He had to do something. But what? He was a communications officer. He managed surveillance. He couldn’t even perform basic field medicine, let alone reactivate a terminated mech.
“Jazz,” Soundwave sobbed.
His digits dug into the wound, energon already congealing at the opening. He hoped for a curse, a swat from the other mech’s servo for the harsh treatment. He searched through their medical link for any readings. The only reports that came up were the last spark notes, the speed of its spin, how it abruptly stopped–
Soundwave froze. He read the report, then read it again. Jazz’s spark skipped then skittered to a stop when Soundwave amped up his waves. Perhaps… he could use his waves to jumpstart Jazz’s spark.
It had to work.
It had to.
The release for Jazz’s chestplates was easy to find through their link. They opened with a hiss from the hydraulics already beginning to seize. Inside lay his spark–bright white, nearly blinding, but starting to dull by the klik. Soundwave pressed both his servos against it, wincing at the heat it gave off and the way Jazz’s arm came along with his. He released his seismic waves just as he had done before. His optics searched frantically for some sort of physical sign that it was working. When there was nothing, he searched through their connection. Jazz’s spark was stagnating–not brightening, not turning dull. Soundwave increased the power of his waves, ignoring the sound of their armor rattling against protoform.
And–
Frame reboot: successful.
Running diagnostics.
On instinct, Jazz dismissed the scans. His processor ached and the screenings usually didn’t tell him anything he couldn’t feel for himself.
Reinitializing diagnostic scans.
Now that was odd…
Jazz searched through his HUD for what was overriding his commands and found a basic connection formed between his medical ports and another mech. His processor lagged for a moment as it attempted to form the necessary logic strains to figure out what happened.
That’s when one hundred percent of the past however long hit him like a semi–Optimus had apologized for cycles after but, scrap, it still ached in his pelvic joints–
Jazz groaned. His helm fell back, clanging against the wall. “Pitslag. ‘s like Volcanicus stepped on me…” A firm weight shuffled in his lap. When he onlined his optics, he met Soundwave’s bright yellow gaze. “Hey, Sounds. I’m ‘nna guess everything went well.”
At first, Soundwave said nothing. Just kept his unwavering gaze set on Jazz’s faceplate. Then he raised a servo and pressed it against Jazz’s mandible, soft to start then firm once he realized Jazz wasn’t going to leave. A creaky, frail noise came from his vocalizer. All at once, he pressed forward, pulling Jazz closer.
“Jazz: functioning,” he whispered over and over again.
He pressed his mask to Jazz’s faceplate. It left the spy quite thrown for a loop. Jazz tried to turn and face Soundwave but was stopped by the Decepticon’s mouth on his–when’d he even lower his mask? His frame froze, hydraulics seizing with a whine. Soundwave was kissing him.
Soundwave was kissing him.
Since when–
Subconsciously, Jazz shook his helm. He wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth–earth slang–and offlined his optics. His arms came around Soundwave’s middle, his digits fitting into the grooves along the Decepticon’s spinal strut. The divide between his chassis and Soundwave’s was nonexistent, held together as they were. A ping came up on his HUD that he had finally reached an optimum internal temperature after rebooting. When Soundwave pulled away, Jazz felt dazed, confused. He didn’t bother to online his optics.
“You gotta tell me what happened.”
Soundwave slipped closer. “Request: later?”
“Later,” Jazz agreed. “Later.”
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tinkertoysdamn · 3 months
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Me: I don't have any plans to continue this story.
Also Me: So, here's the WIP--
Thorquill "This Can Be My Testimony" Part 3 Rough Draft hoohah
“Uh, Captain?”  Kraglin, the gangly second-in-command of the Ravager vessel The Eclector, called out through the comms system.  “We’re being hailed by an Asgardian ship.”
“Asgardian?”  The brief distraction was all that Captain Yondu Ugonta needed to finish his opponent off.  With one massive flex of the bicep, he pulled Horuz’s arm to the table, keeping the title of Unofficial Eclector Arm Wrestling Champion.   
While Horuz was cursing off his loss, Yondu addressed his second.  “We ain’t in Asgardian airspace, what the hell could they want?”
“Don’t know, Sir.”  There was the briefest of pauses.  “Uh, you want me to patch them through?”
“Fine.”  Yondu turned to his subordinates.  “I want one of you jackasses on weapons in case some hoity-toity thinks they’ve got the drop on us.”  Obediently, Horuz took off.  Yondu nodded in approval, Horuz was one of the good ones.  Even after a loss he was still loyal.
“Bring up the screen,” Yondu ordered, waiting for the holographic communication hub to appear in the common area.  He stood, shoulders back, bracing himself for whatever high and mighty Asgardian idiot had the audacity to mess with the Ravagers.  
What he was not expecting was Peter Quill.   
“Youdu,” Peter said, all business.  “I’m here for my ship.”
For a little Terran punk, Peter had some balls.  The blood rushed to Yondu’s face.  “Your ship?”
“Yeah, the one I earned.”  Peter stared him down, like he was daring the Captain to argue with him.  
Well, Yondu Udonta didn’t get to be a Ravager Captain by backing away from a fight.  “Ya mean the one I gave you?”
That set Peter off.  “I earned my flames like anyone else.”
“Only because I wouldn’t let my crew eat ya.”  It was funny the first time and it’d be funny for the next thirty times, especially if every time Yondu joked about it, it made Peter’s face squish up like that.  “When we picked you up, they were talking about how they’d never had Terran before—”
As expected, Peter was doing his own silent mimicking rendition of Yondu’s speech on the other side of the screen complete with mocking head bobs.
God damn, Yondu had missed his boy but it would be a cold day in hell before he’d ever admit it.  Right as he finished his spiel, he brought up the big question.  “The hell you doing on an Asgardian ship, boy?”
That’s when the second surprise of the day reared its head.  A long-haired blond mass of muscle with a neatly trimmed beard popped onto the screen right next to Peter.  “He’s my fiancé.”
The Eclector’s common room went silent.  
Peter shoved the blond out of frame, his face red.  
“What was that?” Yondu asked, hands on his hips.  
“Ignore him,” Peter said, “you’re dealing with me.”  Then he turned to the stranger off-screen, muttering something about, “these are my people, you need to back off.”
Then the stranger started talking back and Yondu lost his patience.
“Get your ass on board and we’ll talk.”  It had been over a year, by god, and he wanted to see how Peter was doing in person.  The screen could hide a lot of sins and Yondu didn’t trust Ego to properly take care of anyone.  What the hell did that Celestial bastard know about living beings anyway?
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