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roguerogerss · 5 months

Text

The President

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

W/C: 3.2k

Warnings: SMUT!!, Livia is also a warning.

(this is getting out of hand now. someone please for the love of GOD stop me from writing these. also the president thing got away from me in this one and i feel sick.) (EDIT: here’s part 2 babes, as requested!) (requests r open, send me stuff here)

“Well, Felix will obviously get it." You'd hardly been listening to the conversation at hand, but Lysistrata seemed to be making a point that you wouldn't want to miss, given her excessive gesturing whilst talking, "His father was the last President, and he was great, I'm sure they'll take that into consideration-"

"But Festus is smarter." Livia cut in, snippish as always, pointed nose turned up and drink poised, looking like a judging, middle-aged woman. "And he's got the grades to prove it. And he was thought of very highly within the University, you know."

"But what about Pup? Surely he'll make a better president than Festus, and I dare say Felix, aswell." Clemensia was next to make her point, "Eugh, thinking about Festus at school, how sloppy he was," She'd turned to you, now, "Do you remember that? How on earth could he make a good president?"

"But he's different now, Clemmie, such a great husband, and he'll be such a great President, when he gets the position later." Livia was always so disgustingly sure of herself, it made you want to tell her to shut up, and then, after the fact, lock yourself in your apartment for the next few hours and scream into a pillow. "What about you, Y/N? Who do you think will get it?"

You hadn't even bothered to listen to what the rest of the women thought the pros and cons of their respective husbands being President of Panem, were. Your ears had only really perked up upon hearing your name come from Livia's puckered little mouth. "Well, I think you're discounting Coriolanus."

This warranted an eruption of laughter from all of the women around you, Clemmie laughed so hard that she had to grip your arm for support, and Livia pointed her glass at the rest of your former classmates and laughed with them over your statement. "You can't be serious!" Livia shrieked. "I mean, I know he's your husband and all, sweetie, but he's a total rule breaker, they need someone reliable, trustworthy! Your Coriolanus isn't anything of the sort."

Your Coriolanus. It almost made your face crack into a smile, and you had to roll your tongue around in your mouth to keep from giggling like the schoolgirl you once were. You'd only been married to Coriolanus for three days, but you'd had to postpone your honeymoon so that he could go ahead with his running for President of Panem. It didn't feel quite real, yet, that you'd married your childhood sweetheart, and hearing Livia refer to him as your husband, as much as you hated her, made your head spin with happiness.

"He'd be more than capable, Livia. He's smart, incredibly smart, and that's been recognised, too. And he's seen more of Panem than anyone you'd consider to be a prime candidate. Dr Gaul loves him, surely her vote is better counted than most anyone else's." You countered. Normally, you wouldn't involve yourself with such arguments. Your high school friends had been married a lot longer than you had, settled at twenty as opposed to your wedding at twenty-three, and you'd always had the gruelling job of listening in on them competing with eachother.

Who's husband was best at this, who's was best at that? Who's father-in-law was richest, who's husband had bought them the bigger house after the wedding, who's husband fucked them the most and who's was best? You'd vowed to yourself that, when the time came, and you and Coryo finally married, you wouldn't bother telling anyone much of your personal life.

"I suppose you have a point." Clemensia was easily the nicest out of your friends, the only one you really enjoyed the company of, and she liked Coriolanus, too. While the others only seemed to slander him, what with his stint in the games and his time as a Peacekeeper, she only ever seemed to speak about him from a place of friendship. "Coriolanus is smart, and Dr Gaul adores him, remember when we mentored? He'd have won the Plinth prize, for sure, if everything else hadn't happened."

"But it did, though, Clemensia. It did happen, and I think his chances have been ruined, if I'm honest." Lysistrata made her first comment in a few minutes.

"They've definitely been ruined. I mean, half of the Capitol think he's a rebel." Livia scoffed.

"But the other half think he's brilliant. A young, complex mind. Someone who doesn't think like the rest of us do." You took a sip from your drink, and Livia scowled at you. She knew you were right, and, although Livia always had a counter argument, she seemed lost on this one. "I suppose we'll have to wait. Maybe the half of us who think he's great will outweigh the half who don't."

"I suppose we will, slim chance and all, but..." Livia shrugged and clicked her tongue. "We won't be waiting too long, look."

She gestured to the television, which had been playing commentary from Lucretius 'Lucky' Flickerman, and had now switched to all four men standing uniformly on a stage, crowds surrounding them. Lucky uttered something about how the last votes had now been cast, and so it was time to announce the President.

Livia gasped and grabbed your hand, then Lysistrata's, and Clemensia took hold of your other one, giving it a slight squeeze and sending a small smile your way. "This is it!" Livia announced dramatically.

"Hold tight, ladies! One of us is about to be First Lady of Panem." It was painfully obvious, when Livia said 'one of us', that she meant herself. You knew she wouldn't even think about being happy for any of the rest of you, should it be anyone other than Festus claiming the title.

"Here, we have our four presidential candidates." Lucky announced on the television, "All Academy and University graduates, we have, Festus Creed, Felix Ravinstill, Pliny Harrington, and, last but not least, Coriolanus Snow!"

You smiled softly when the camera panned over the boys on stage, your childhood friends, your husband, standing side by side, all up for the position of President. Coriolanus' suit was pressed to perfection by Tigris, and you'd done his hair for him that morning, he looked amazing - handsome, professional, presidential.

"Now, in this envelope, I have the name of the man, out of these four, who will become President of Panem." Lucky flashed a black and gold envelope, and then stalled for a few seconds, having a pigeon fly out of his sleeve, and making an out of place remark about magic.

"The time has come." The broadcast was incredibly dramatic, and you wished he'd just cut the unnecessary stuff and put you all out of your misery. "The new President of Panem, is..."

The silence of Lucky's pause was filled with Livia clamping a hand over her mouth and squealing, you wished even further that she would just be quiet.

"Coriolanus Snow!"

You'd hardly been expecting him to actually win, but Coryo had put so much of himself into his campaign, and you felt a huge sense of pride wash over you as the cameras closed in on him and his face lit up in one of his stunning, toothy grins. Your eyes widened in shock, and you heard Clemmie laugh excitedly.

"Congratulations!" She let go of your hand and threw her arms around you. "Coriolanus deserves this, really, he does, and so do you!"

You hadn't a clue what to say to anyone, whether to revel in your glory or to extend your sympathy that their husbands hadn't won, but, when you turned to see Livia's face, bright red and obviously stewing in anger, and Lysistrata's dropped in sheer disappointment, you almost laughed out loud.

"I suppose the part of the Capitol who love Coryo is bigger than the part who don't." You smiled sweetly at Livia. "I wish Festus better luck next time.”

The rest of the day dragged on, Livia had only been letting her anger fester and had hardly said a word since the announcement - you certainly weren't complaining - and the rest of the girls were simply flooding you with questions, congratulations, and stories from when they'd been growing up with Coriolanus, as though reminding you of the fact they'd been there since before he was President.

The reporters had become an issue, too. Coryo had warned you about them, kneeling in front of you after fastening the straps of your high heels that morning. "They'll try to bleed you dry, whether I win or not. Just try to ignore them, don't give them much. All they want is a story." And then, he'd kissed you and smoothed your hair down, soothing you on what he knew was already a nerve-wracking morning.

You tried to remember his words, solidified with that kiss, every time they approached you. Don't give them too much, but don't give them nothing, ignore them where you can, wait until you've been properly trained on how to give interviews. It began to dawn on you that your entire life might start to feel like this, now, and you made a mental note to tell Coryo all of your concerns later and let him silence them for you.

You didn't see your husband for almost an hour after the announcement, and most of the women you'd been with before the broadcast were badly drunk by the time he showed his face. It was in the middle of a particularly slurred story, about something that Clemmie absolutely should not have been telling every female University graduate that she knew, that you'd felt the large, familiar hand snake it's way around your waist.

You turned to find Coryo standing there, beaming down at you. "Hello, First Lady." He mused. You smiled so widely at him, and quickly pulled his face down to connect your lips in an almost too suggestive kiss, earning whoops from the crowd of girls you'd gone to school with.

"Sorry, ladies, I'm going to borrow my wife for a while, if you don't mind." Coryo smiled to everyone, and then accepted side-hugs and kisses on the cheek and congratulations from everybody around you.

Afterwards, he quickly pressed his hands to either side of your waist and started to guide you through the crowd of people, avoiding reporters where he could and, where he couldn't, telling them he'd give them a proper interview later, but had somewhere to be at that moment. Most everyone you passed would clap him on the shoulder or shriek something that sounded congratulatory.

Eventually, you reached an empty hall, with large hardwood doors and, inside, marble pillars and polished stone floors. You looked around, amazed, you'd never been to this particular building before, but every room you'd gone into so far was a marvel in itself.

"I don't have long, shouldn't even be away from everything going on at all, but I couldn't resist seeing you any longer." Coryo admitted, face flushed as though this was a first date. You smiled gratefully at him.

"Thought I was going to die if I had to speak to anyone else from the Academy. I mean, how annoying is everyone we went to school with?" Coryo chuckled, approaching you and enveloping you in his arms. His suit smelled of roses, like always, and it calmed you so deeply that you wanted to stay that way forever, inhaling his scent and forgetting about every other responsibility you had.

"I'm sorry I left you with them for so long. Especially Livia, even Festus isn't as mad as she is." Coryo held you at an arms length and smoothed your hair affectionately. You leaned into his hand.

"She's certainly been a pleasure." You joked.

Coriolanus laughed and then, quickly, his lips were on yours, catching you off guard and making you smile against him. "Wanted to come and see you because I couldn't stop thinking about you." He explained, lips becoming rougher on yours by the second.

You knew exactly what he meant, as his hand squeezed your waist and he backed you into one of the pillars. "That car ride here, you're such a tease, and all for me, hmm?"

"All for you." You agreed, breathlessly.

"Such a bad girl, though. Getting me all riled up like that and not doing anything about it. Making me flustered, I was struggling to talk to people, just thinking about fucking you." His fingers ran from your cheek, down your neck and to your collarbone, which was exposed and red hot with arousal, "And you're so flushed, honey, makes me wonder if, maybe, you did this on purpose. Maybe you wanted me to think about it all day, wanted me to be pining for you, didn't you?"

You were quiet, just revelling in the way his rough fingers felt against your skin. Coryo’s voice hardened slightly, and the sense of authority had you sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. “Answer me, sweetheart."

"I wanted you to think of me, Coryo." You reached out and brushed a stray curl from his forehead. “I love knowing you're thinking about me."

"Oh, baby, I'm always thinking about you." His eyes raked over your body and you suddenly felt naked under his gaze. “But I think, after your little stint earlier, getting me so hard in the car and then having me walk through a crowd like that where you knew people would see, you need to be punished."

"Mm," You hummed. "And what would my punishment be, President Snow."

Coryo practically growled upon hearing you call him that, the power of it all, and he gripped you roughly by the back of the neck and slammed his lips onto yours, a clash of teeth and tongue, so rough, so hot. "I wasn't going to do this, but, I have to take care of this," He pointed to his clothed, but very obvious erection. "So, be a good girl and bend over that railing for me, will you?"

"What?" Your voice was blunt and your eyes wide. Never had Coryo asked you to do anything of the sort. You were all for commands in the bedroom, in the kitchen, even in the car, but he'd never been so public about it. "Coryo, there are so many people out there. Someone could walk in."

"I don't care, sugar, I'm the President now, remember?" His fingers had curled around your chin, tilting it upwards for you to look at him. “Don't you think it's my right to be able to fuck my wife wherever I please?"

You felt a wetness pooling between your legs at the sound of him calling you his wife, and at how horny he so obviously was, and so, slowly, seductively, you bent over the marble railing, overlooking a staircase and, below, another polished room. You pulled the skirt of your red, silk dress up past your thighs and over the curve of your ass, painfully slowly, never breaking eye contact with Coriolanus, who's mouth was hanging open and you could see his tongue gliding over his top teeth.

"That's it." He coed, positioning himself behind you and pushing your dress up even further, so that your waist and most of your back was on display now, too. He ran his hands over your exposed skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. "That's my girl. If you're good, you'll get your reward later, yeah?"

"And what would my reward be?"

"I'll make you cum so many times you'll be seeing stars, darling, I promise." He bent over you, kissing your neck, “But, for now, let me fuck you, and keep yourself quiet. Can you do that?"

You didn't honestly think you could, you never managed to, even when you pressed a hand to your mouth, bit down on his shoulder or your wrist, your neighbours were still more than able to hear your whimpers and moans. But you nodded, anyway, too excited by his proposal for later on. "Good." He gently moved your hair off of your back and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. "Good girl."

He'd only unzipped his slacks and pushed your skimpy underwear to the side, but that was all he needed, and you were so wet that it made it easy for him to slide straight into you, both of your moans echoing around the hall as he did so.

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours, and your moans, muffled by the palm of your hand, were so ludicrous, here in this huge, pure white room, that it made the experience a hundred times hotter, in your opinion. "You'll be a good girl for me now, won't you? After I've filled you up, you'll be my perfect girl, hmm?"

"Yes, Coryo!" A loud moan left your lips, which only lead Coriolanus to smack your ass once, something that he only did to warn you if you were getting too loud. "I'll be good, I promise."

He was bent fully over you, chest pressed against your back, cheek to your shoulder blade, and his lips being right at your ear had you getting close, every thrust of his hips, every whisper of your name or breathy moan, the way his hands continued to roam your body. "Coryo, I'm getting close." You whispered.

"Hold it. Didn't say you could cum, did I?" You began to protest, but he cut you off before you could even make your point, "You've been a bad girl, and you need to take your punishment seriously. Do you understand?"

You went quiet, the idea of him fucking you, getting you so close only to pull you back, had you lost for words. His hand found your neck, and he squeezed his fingers around it gently, making you cry out in pleasure, "I said, do you understand?"

"Yes! Yes, Coryo, I understand." You whined, "You feel too good."

"Gonna cum." He warned, and only a few seconds later, his hips stuttered against you and he stifled an especially guttural groan against your shoulder as you felt warm ropes of cum filling you up.

His whole body shuddered, and he pressed his face as far into your back as it could go, breathing heavily. When he pulled out of you, leaving you bent over the railing, throbbing and clenching around nothing, a few drops of cum dropped down your leg, and he felt his cock twitching just at the sight.

"It's taking everything in me not to make you cum right here, trust me, sweetheart." Coryo tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear when you finally managed to stand up - albeit wobbly - and then immediately began fussing over his own hair. "But you need to wait, you understand that, don't you? Need to prove to me you can be good."

"I will, Coryo." You helped him out with his hair, smoothing it gently. "Promise."

"Good girl." He helped you to pull your dress down and fix your underwear, and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I'll have to go back out there. Try not to murder Livia for me, okay?"

Coryo opened the door, so that you could both go and rejoin your respective parties, but your legs were shaking so badly you found yourself hardly able to stand, nevermind walk. Coriolanus smirked at this, watching you smugly.

He fixed out his suit jacket, and then leaned in for one last kiss. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"See you soon, President Snow."

#coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo x reader #coriolanus snow #coryo snow

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awearywritersworld · 5 months

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she mumbled that i was peculiar

sukuna x reader summary: impressively, sukuna is still trying to find ways to deny his feelings for you. nevertheless, he keeps you safe from harm when a late night trip to the store doesn't go as planned. will seeing his violent nature for yourself change the way you feel about him? he seems to think so. w/c: 4.2k (oops) tags/warnings: angst to fluff. attempted kidnapping. canon typical violence. depictions of blood. reader throws up. reader is in shock for a bit. cursing. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. *please mind the warnings for this chapter* a/n: i'm sorry this took so long! im ngl, i struggled quite a bit to write this chapter. i'm still unsure about the pacing, but here it is anyway. thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! series masterlist // masterlist

it's not often that you go out for the evening, but tonight is one such occasion. you leave around seven, excited to meet nobara and maki for dinner.

when yuuji falls asleep a few hours later, sukuna doesn't take over right away. he spends a while in his domain, engaging in what some people might call sulking.

before long, however, he begins to feel restless and he tells himself it's because he's grown accustomed to his finite hours of freedom. of course, it has nothing to do with your absence.

so he assumes control of his vessel's body and pulls a short novel from your bookshelf. settling on the couch, his fingertips brush over the cover: the stranger by albert camus

it's the first time he's ever been alone in your apartment, a fact he's well aware of, and his eyes wander to the front door. it'd be all too easy to pull it open, to make his way downstairs and out onto the street.

how long would it last before yuuji regained control? are you nearby? would you get caught up in the havoc he'd doubtlessly wreak?

the thought makes him grimace. returning his focus to the book in his hands, time seems to pass by faster as he makes his way through the pages.

even so, he deems the narrative a bit boring. in his (what's the opposite of humble?) opinion, dead mothers and nagging girlfriends don't make for the most captivating story, so his mind begins to wander once he happens upon the quote:

"so why marry me, then?" she said. i explained to her that it didn't really matter and that if she wanted to, we could get married. besides, she was the one who was doing the asking and all i was saying was yes. then she pointed out that marriage was a serious thing. i said, "no." she stopped talking for a minute and looked at me without saying anything. then she spoke. she just wanted to know if i would have accepted the same proposal from another woman, with whom I was involved in the same way. i said, "sure." then she said she wondered if she loved me, and there was no way i could know about that. after another moment's silence, she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.

sukuna thinks about you— the woman who forced her way into his solitude.

although, what if it hadn't been you? what if the brat had been involved with another woman? would he have eventually taken an interest in her too?

are you really that special, or is he just going crazy inside the cage that is itadori yuuji? the latter is much more likely, right?

he supposes he prefers the idea of madness over... feelings for some human.

all of a sudden, your apartment door seems much more inviting. would it be so bad if he were to step through it? what did he really have to lose?

yeah, that's right. he'll get up any second now and act on every horrible impulse he's been repressing. any second now... any second...

he can't quite figure out why he's unable to bring his limbs to move, weighed down by some force that's beyond him.

it's at that moment the door clicks open and for a split second, he thinks it must be his sign to go, but then you come waltzing in.

"'kuna!" you greet in an excited manner, disrupting the peaceful quiet.

kicking off your shoes haphazardly, you make your way over to him and promptly drop yourself into his lap. it elicits a bout of unwelcome clarity for the king of curses.

no, he wouldn't have taken an interest in just anyone, that much becomes obvious. it wasn't through a medium as flawed as chance that he came to... tolerate you. you're much too annoying for that to be the case.

"hello???" you wave your hand in front of his face. "i'm home."

"i can see that."

"welcome home, darling," you say in a deep voice, a poor imitation of him. "i missed you so much— that's what you're supposed to say."

yeah, definitely too annoying.

"but i didn't miss you." one of his hands comes to rest on your thigh, a betrayal of his preceding assertion.

"you're sitting alone reading—" you pause to inspect the book lying open beside him. "existential fiction about a nihilistic frenchman. of course you missed me."

he changes the topic rather swiftly. "you're drunk."

"i'm tipsy, at best." you roll your eyes. "can't i just be happy to see you?"

"you'd be the first."

"i don't mind making history."

you place a kiss on his lips, casual and affectionate in way that makes sukuna's body stiffen, and stand up.

"i need to get ready for bed, then we're gonna watch tv together because i missed you— gosh, see how easy that was?"

you run off to the bathroom and his body doesn't fully relax until he hears the shower turn on.

the thought of missing someone is a strange notion to him, because it implies eagerness and desire. for as long as he cares to remember, those emotions have been reserved for proclivities much more sinister.

so he hadn't missed you. he just would have preferred it if you stayed home. that's all.

when you return to the living room around fifteen minutes later, you're wearing one of yuuji's shirts, and as far as sukuna can tell, very little otherwise.

making yourself comfortable on the floor between his legs, you pass a hair tie behind you. "can you braid my hair?"

he's watched you get ready for bed enough times that he's fairly certain he can manage it. taking the tie from you, he still asks "why can't you do it?"

"because i'm sleepy," you frown, reaching for the tv remote.

gathering your hair in his hands and carefully dividing it into sections, he sighs. "you require so much looking after."

"you're not going to die if you can't have cookies tonight." sukuna states dryly, glancing at the clock that reads eleven o'clock.

"please don't trivialize my struggle," you begin, pulling on your jacket. "i want miso butter cookies— my grandma's secret recipe."

most of what you need can be found in the kitchen, but a trip to the store is in order for a few final ingredients.

"my mistake," he huffs, rising to his feet. "how insensitive of me."

"oh, it's alright. just don't let it happen again."

"sure. i'll keep that in mind, princess." sliding the apartment door's chain lock off the track, he does little to hide the vexation in his tone.

just as he reaches for the handle, you stop him and wrap a scarf around his neck, forcing a hoodie into his hands. "put this on. you'll be cold."

he looks at you as if you're crazy. "i don't have to worry about things as insignificant as the weather."

"well, put it on anyway," you insist.

he decides that acquiescing will be easier than arguing for the next five minutes and slips the hoodie over head. when you both step out into the chilly air of night, there are still a decent number of people traveling the streets.

stopping at a crosswalk the next block over, you begin to prattle on about what you need to pick up and the different steps in your recipe. naturally, you completely miss it when the pedestrian sign turns green.

"come on," sukuna commands, his hand wrapping around your wrist and tugging you along with him. "i don't have all night."

you scoff. "to be fair, i didn't say you had to come with me."

"yeah well it's late. you shouldn't be out alone." there's a hint of exasperation in his voice, like he truly had no choice in the matter.

despite that, once you reach the other side of the street, his fingers slide down your palm and thread through yours.

you glance over at him and find he's looking off to the side, so you bite your lip to suppress your pleased smile. is he avoiding your gaze intentionally? you decide that bashfulness suits him better than you would have expected.

offering him a light squeeze of the hand, you hope it conveys your appreciation of his small display of affection.

"so, are you going to help me make the cookies?"

his lips press into a thin line. "as thrilling as that seems, i don't particularly have a penchant for baking."

"you think you'd humor me a little! you know, since i'm your only friend and all."

"if anyone else asked me such a ridiculous question, they wouldn't live to see tomorrow." you ponder whether he's joking and quickly decide that he isn't. "this is me humoring you."

"you're so mean to me."

"hardly."

"fine," you pout. "then you can't have any!"

"now, hold on." the threat does make him hesitate. you've come to learn that if there's one thing he loves as much as reading, it's food. "let's not be hasty."

you're approaching the store, the sliding doors just a few strides away.

"it's only fair! besides, you're not going to die if you can't have cookies," you throw his earlier words in his face.

he exhales deeply. "have i ever told you how irritating you are?"

"woah! now you're definitely not getting any, mister!"

"alright, alright," he groans as you step inside. "i'll help you bake your stupid cookies."

"perfect!" you exclaim as if you knew he'd give in eventually (you did). "then you can start by finding the miso paste while i get everything else!"

you scamper off before he can tell you not to order him around like some common servant. he's never even been grocery shopping, how the hell is he supposed to find anything in here?

wandering the aisles, he stews over how domestic this is. for god's sake— the king of curses, shopping for ingredients and making baked goods. what have you reduced him to?

just as he considers giving up, he spots the item he's looking for and grabs it so aggressively that it knocks a few packets of instant miso soup to the floor. wrinkling his nose in distaste for the entire experience, he sets off looking for you, though his efforts are to no avail.

he wonders where the hell you could have gone off to when a flickering light catches his eye, filling him with a strange sort of unease.

it's emanating from a narrow hallway tucked away in the back corner of the store. at the very edge of the hall, a phone with a familiar case is lying on the floor, the screen shattered.

his blood runs cold, a sensation that is fully unknown to him, and the miso paste slips from his fingers. he appears in the hallway the very next second and the sight that greets him ignites a furious hostility in the center of his being— heavy and consuming.

you're struggling against one man as he drags you out of the backdoor and into an alley. another man is holding the door open, urging his partner to hurry up.

the hand over your mouth keeps you from yelling, but you're unsure you would have been able to make a sound regardless.

one second you're cast into darkness, and the next, the light seems blinding. the flashing is unceasing and it makes your head hurt.

two limbs are wrapped around your torso, keeping you firmly in place, and your arms are trapped at your sides. you might be kicking your legs, but they may just be dragging along too. you really can't be sure.

there's a thrum of a heartbeat at your back. it's pace is unforgiving, the intensity mirroring that of your own. you've a vague concern that your heart may very well beat right out of your chest.

then there's an abrupt shift in the air and a sickening crack echoes through out the night. crumpling onto the concrete, you think it must have started raining before you realize that the droplets on your face are warm.

you wipe at your cheek and your fingers stain crimson, the color matching that of an increasingly large puddle seeping across the pavement beside you.

there's a heap lying a few feet away and you recognize that it's wearing clothes. it's a sight you struggle to make sense of.

needing to focus on something else, your eyes find sukuna and the expression he's wearing is fierce and unreserved. "tell me what you wanted with her."

you've never heard him speak in such a way. his tone is low, his cadence nothing short of threatening.

"s-s'kuna?" your own voice sounds foreign to you and it goes unheard by him.

he has your attacker pressed against the brick wall of the alley, both hands wrapped around his throat. he's too livid to realize the pressure on his windpipe is preventing him from answering.

sukuna throws him to the other side of the alleyway out of frustration, the man rolling onto his back and wheezing to appease his lungs.

"tell me!" sukuna commands again, louder this time. less collected.

the man scrambles away from his looming figure. "th-they sent us, told us they needed her for an important matter."

"who?"

"they'll kill me if i tell you—"

sukuna crouches down, laughing dryly. "and what do you suppose i'm going to do?"

his eyes are almost unrecognizable to you. they're frenzied— a few shades deeper than the scarlet you've grown so fond of.

"you'll k-kill me either way, so at least i'll die with honor—"

"tch. useless." sukuna waves his hand, and you can hardly comprehend what happens right in front of you.

neat red lines appear across the man's body, then it ruptures into nothing at all. the only evidence that he was ever there in the first place is his blood.

the stench of which is perhaps the worst part— intense, coppery, and hot. it makes your eyes water, and before you know it, you're hunched over and emptying the contents of your stomach onto the ground.

sukuna is at your side in an instant, pulling your hair away from your face, but while one of your hands is braced against the concrete, the other endeavors to push him away.

his body doesn't budge at the contact, but he takes a step back anyway in an attempt to respect your wishes.

your mind is a mess filled with racing thoughts— what the fuck? this cannot be happening. what the hell even happened in this first place? that man was there and then he wasn't.

inhaling sharply, you wipe at your mouth and shift to pull your knees to your chest.

"what..." you trail off, surveying the unutterable, incomprehensible scene before you. "what did you do?"

he doesn't respond, though his features noticeably soften. somewhere in the back of your mind, you know very well what he did, but you can't help repeating. "what did you do?"

"we need to leave." it's not that sukuna couldn't handle whoever might show up, but seeing as this is your reaction, he has no desire to. "if you let me touch you, i can take us home."

you take a moment to think about it, then nod wordlessly. as soon as his hand falls on your shoulder, you're met with that same sensation you felt the night gojo teleported you and yuuji home after one too many drinks.

though this time, the sick feeling in your stomach isn't caused by liquor. you don't stand up, you don't so much as move a muscle when you feel the surface beneath you shift from concrete to carpet.

sukuna breathes out your name, his uncertainty evidenced by the way he's shoved his hands into his pockets. meeting his eye, you reiterate the same inquiry once more. "what did you do?"

it's almost as if you want him to tell you that he didn't do anything. that the whole experience was some disturbing nightmare.

"those men would have hurt you."

"that doesn't mean they deserved to die." you choke on the final word.

"yes— it does."

with that, silence hangs in the air like a suffocating miasma.

looking to your hands, you're reminded of the blood you've been spattered with. "i need to wash up."

you still don't move from your spot, too fixated on your flesh and the dreadful hue that it's been painted with. sukuna notices now that you're trembling.

he approaches you hesitantly before extending his hand. "let me help you."

you decline his offer, shying away from him. "i think you've done enough already."

god, the look in your eye is utterly despondent. he struggles to swallow the lump that forms in his throat.

his arm falls limply to his side and he looks across the room, your copy of the stranger earning his attention.

he's overcome with chagrin when he realizes that his concern brought about by camus' quote the other night was wholly misguided. he'd been focused on his own feelings, whether they were genuine or simply wrought by his isolation.

how foolish was he to ever question what you truly mean to him? with the anguish that's settled in his chest at the sight of your current state, the fact he ever doubted it makes him feel like a hopeless idiot.

had he any sense at all, the part that resonated with him would have been—

she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.

disgust. is that what you're feeling now? he's certain it is.

it was just last week that he relayed the story of his past. you're the only person alive to know the truth of how his wickedness came to be, and you met him with unconditional sympathy and understanding.

you pulled him close and embraced him, but now that you've seen him for what he truly is...? you can barely stand to touch him and it's like a knife to his heart.

you're so fucking warm— like the sun against his skin after weeks of endless rain.

and if you're the sun, surely he is the moon— cold and barren on his own, but brilliant when in the presence of your light.

to be without that? to be without you? it's a prospect too terrible for him to bear. it makes his stomach twist miserably.

you're startled (as is he) when his form falls to the floor, his knees meeting the carpet with a dull thud. he calls out your name again, but this time, his voice cracks as he speaks. "please."

he doesn't have a clue what he's even asking for. a chance to explain? forgiveness? a way to turn back time?

you don't say anything, but you do shift your gaze to him. he knows that he needs to fix this, so he wracks his mind for the right words.

"i didn't enjoy killing those men." he's somewhat surprised to find he's telling the truth.

"you didn't?" your voice is so small and timid that he can hardly decipher your words.

"no. my only concern was to keep you safe— to make sure they never put their hands on you ever again. all i felt was rage and... and... guilt. i should have never left you alone and it's my fault—"

"stop," you interrupt him.

there are tears welling in your eyes, making it difficult for sukuna to breathe. he's positive you're going to tell him that his intentions were of little consequence and that you never want to see him ever again.

instead, you push yourself forward and collapse against his body, your own wracked with violent sobs. the reality of the situation is only just now hitting you. it'd been much easier to focus on what sukuna had done, rather than what almost happened to you.

"i was so scared, 'kuna."

and still, despite the way you're clinging to his shirt and burying your face in chest, he's under the impression that it's him you were afraid of.

"i'm sorry," he tells you earnestly. "i never meant to frighten you."

"n-not of you. those men." you're struggling to speak in between desperate gasps. "why did they do that? what did they want with me?"

"i don't know." though, he is going to find out.

sukuna is not a man well versed in comfort, so he's not entirely sure why he begins rocking you back and forth, but he does it anyway.

when you finally start to breathe a little easier, he mumbles into your hair, "come on. let's get you cleaned up."

he doesn't give you a chance to respond before he scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. setting you down on the counter gently, he searches the linen closet for a cloth.

it's quiet, save for your intermittent sniffling, as he runs it under warm water and wrings it out. his free hand moves to rest against the side of your neck and he dabs at the blood on your face, rinsing the washcloth every now and then.

he tries his best not to show it, but sukuna is agonizing over what might be going through your mind.

do you still feel safe with him? have your feelings changed? do you still love him, even when you've been so harshly reminded what he's capable of?

when you speak for the first time your words are hoarse, barely above a whisper. "thank you for saving me, sukuna."

he thinks about telling you not to thank him, not when it shouldn't have happened in the first place. he left your side, an error in judgement he'll never forgive himself for.

he considers your mortality— your weakness— in relation to his feelings for you. he's always seen this exceptionally human quality as despicable.

but now? all it does is terrify him.

"in the past, i was only concerned with my own whims and desires." his hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb running over your cheekbone. "though after tonight... you have to know..."

it's clear that he's struggling. his eyebrows draw together and his mouth twitches as he ponders his next words.

"i care about you, angel." his voice is hushed when he adds, "very much."

your eyes widen briefly and you murmur his name, but your mind is still reeling from the events of the past twenty minutes and you can't think of anything more to say. you're emotionally exhausted in a way you would have never thought possible.

it's plain to him too, so he knows his next question is selfish, but he can't go on without knowing. "does what you saw tonight change things between us?"

the silence preceding your answer seems to stretch on forever.

"i thought it would," you confess eventually. it was as if you'd put up a wall in your mind separating sukuna the king of curses from sukuna the man you spend your evenings with.

and it's difficult to reconcile the fact that the hands you saw used to murder two men are the same hands that are caressing your face so delicately.

at some point, however, you realized that the only time you felt fear tonight was when you were without him. his arrival and ensuing actions inspired shock and apprehension, though in some twisted way, you knew it meant you were safe. "but it doesn't."

the next question tumbles from your lips thoughtlessly. "does that make me a bad person?"

he chuckles and some of the tension in the room dissipates. "i think i'm the last one on earth that can pass moral judgement on you."

he tucks your hair behind your ear and scans your face, relief coursing through his body when he sees you smile. in this moment, there isn't anything else in the world he would have asked for.

"i guess you're right."

and now, the hand over your mouth is your own, an attempt to stifle your tired giggles. the light of the bathroom is warm and steady. sukuna's hands rest atop your hips, his touch firm but comforting. while you can't feel your own heartbeat, you're positive it must be beating in time with his.

when you crawl into bed that night sukuna pulls you close, your back pressed to his bare chest. you're thankful for the softness of his demeanor, because you need it tonight more than ever.

he doesn't recede to his domain until yuuji wakes up the following morning. he's determined to keep an eye on you as you sleep, to watch the slow rise and fall of your chest with newfound gratitude.

he knows he needs to speak with the brat about what happened. someone is after you and while he hates to admit it, he knows he can't ensure your safety alone.

and he will keep you safe, no matter the cost.

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @elusivemoon @annoyingstrawberryballoon @miabiar @hyeon-yi @iluv-ace @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.

#m!writes #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines

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ms-demeanor · 5 months

Note

i’m curious what your opinion is on the finer points of the case mentioned in the JSTOR post you reblogged earlier. the two sources in the post say that JSTOR didn’t press charges against him and had already settled with him by the time he killed himself. from what i read on wikipedia, the concern seems to be that JSTOR complied with a subpoena, which i don’t believe they have a choice to ignore? if anything it seems like the us government had reason to want him dead for wikileaks and public court records reasons, so they took a terms of use violation and blew it up into a dozen federal crimes.

is there more context i should be aware of? i have no particular affection or malice for JSTOR but the sources i found don’t exactly implicate the database or its employees in murder.

That's from page 175 of this document. This line: "The activity noted is outright theft and may merit a call with university counsel, and even the local police, to ensure not only that the activity has stopped but that - e.g. the visiting scholar who left - isn't leaving with a hard drive containing our database" is where I think the culpability starts.

If someone is downloading 1000s of articles (what seems like reasonable threshold for us to take action), what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc. Our content is extraordinarily valuable and hard to replicate by the sweat of one's brow, but can be duplicated by savvy hackers and who knows what they want to do with the content?

Page 379: "Does the university contact law enforcement? Would they be willing to do so in this instance?

From page 1296:

I think the important thing to note here is that JSTOR had worked with MIT and had plans in place to prevent future similar downloads, but remained focused on identifying the person responsible for the downloads and ensuring that their data was deleted.

"I might just be irked because I am up dealing with this person on a Sunday night, but I am starting to feel like they need to get a hold of this situation right away or we need to offer to send them some help (read FBI).

And there it is. Page 3093 of the document.

JSTOR can hem and haw about it all they want, but you can't un-call the cops.

MIT was working with JSTOR on preventing future incidents of pirating, but JSTOR repeatedly said that they weren't going to let it go, that it was unacceptable to drop the issue, that they were going to continue to pursue the pirate.

You can scroll through the document and see the JSTOR tech department and abuse team talking about Swartz as a script kiddie, and a hacker. You can see someone talking about how this was real theft - making the comparison to stealing books even while admitting that piracy doesn't close others out of access.

You can see the thread starts with a joke about punching someone in the face for hacking their system, and includes the tech team ominously considering whether they should threaten the MIT librarians with the FBI.

There's something really important to note here which I don't think that people who aren't PRETTY DEEP into hackery shit aren't aware of: US law enforcement is absolutely rabidly feral about prosecuting hackers. People may be more aware of this now because of Chelsea Manning and Edward Snowden (and perhaps a bit on tumblr because of maia arson crimew), but people who work in tech and who are in infosec - like the people joking about calling the FBI in these emails - would be aware of the bonkers disproportionate punishments faced by hackers. And knowing that, they kept pushing and pushing and pushing for identification of the hacker. They kept digging with MIT, they kept saying that simply preventing future incidents wasn't enough.

Early in the exchange someone from JSTOR asked "what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc." and the answer is what happened to Aaron Swartz.

It is absolute bullshit for JSTOR to say "we arrived at a solution privately and didn't want to press charges" after law enforcement has gotten involved with a hacking case, especially one where they're talking about "real theft" and are attempting to quantify and emphasize the amount that was "stolen" from them.

The *public* may believe that private individuals or institutions are the ones who "press charges" but that's simply not the case. It's prosecutors who decide whether or not to go ahead with charges; they do it based on what cases they think they can win and what their office's perspective is on the crime. When you hear about people choosing to press charges it simply means that they decided to tell the prosecutor they wanted the case to go forward. It's up to the prosecutor whether or not that happens.

And the tech team at JSTOR had to know that law enforcement wasn't just going to wag a finger at an academic hacker.

There's a parallel here that happens sometimes when people have their identities stolen by their parents. If you mom takes out a credit card in your name, that's identity theft. That's fraud. That's illegal. If you reach the age of 25 and realize that your credit is ruined because your mom has been defaulting on cards in your name, you've got two choices to fix that: one is to accept the debt and pay it off and build up credit, and the other is to report the identity theft - which will end up with your mom in prison for a decade or so. Ruin your own personal finances, or your mom goes to jail for ruining your finances. So if you find out that your mom stole your identity you can't just call the cops to pressure her into transferring the debt to her name or something. That's not an option. The cops are not a threat to wave over people, they are not a way to get people to fall in line or act right. They aren't someone you can send to a college student's dorm room to retrieve a hard drive and have the matter drop.

When you call the cops on someone you are sending the full force of the law after them, and the full force of the law falls really heavily on hackers, and how heavy that blow can be is something that the JSTOR team must have been aware of when they were making snide comments about calling the FBI because they were frustrated with the noncommittal responses they were getting from librarians.

Ultimately it was the carceral state that killed Aaron Swartz, but they would not have been involved if JSTOR didn't think that what he did constituted theft.

Taking an *EVEN LARGER* step back from that, the idea that information can be owned and locked behind a paywall is what killed Aaron Swartz, someone who fought for information to be free.

Like. JSTOR is a licensing company. At the end of the day, cute social media posts and all, they're the same as the RIAA and ASCAB. They exist to extract a fee from people attempting to access information.

Aaron Swartz and all that he stood for are an existential threat to their core function.

Are JSTOR's hands as dirty as the federal prosecutors? Absolutely not. But they operate on a model that puts them in opposition to open information activists and it ended up with a hammer falling on Aaron Swartz that they dropped.

#long post #very long post

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pinkanonwrites · 5 months

Text

"Oh! That's What That Does?!"

All art by @archie-sunshine

G1 Rumble/ Mechanic Reader - 2400+ Words NSFW, Valveplug, Plug 'N Play, Mild Sparkplay, Accidental Stimulation, Edging, Human Reader, GN Pronouns

Ahh, the inherent eroticism of repairing your machine.~ I've had this one cooking for a while, so I hope you all enjoy! I've also gotten pretty attached to this mechanic Reader, so they'll likely pop up again with other cassettes (and maybe even some other Decepticons!)

NSFW WRITING AND IMAGERY BELOW THE CUT!

“Ey… EY! Careful wit’ dat! It’s touchy!”

“Rumble,” You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You're making this way more difficult than it needs to be.”

“I wouldn't be complainin’ if you'd stop touchin’ all up on bits that don't gotta be touched! Rootin’ around in there like I'm one’a your crappy organic machines!”

Removing your hands from Rumble’s open chest, you tossed them roughly into the air. “Y'know what? Fine. Do it yourself. Better yet, get Frenzy to pull the shrapnel out of your chest. That'll go great.”

You would have slid off of Rumble’s lap and stormed off, if not for his massive servos closing around your wrists with an unexpected delicacy. Your efforts to remove your hands only reinforced his grip, using just enough force to keep you from leaving without crushing your wrists entirely.

“H-Hey, no need ta be so hasty! Look, I’m just steamed cause'a the battle, dat’s all. Frenz’ can't do dis, it's gotta be someone more… dainty. Y’know. Little human hands and all dat.” The harsh glow of his visor had dulled slightly as his gaze cast down to your hands. You rolled your eyes, wrists finally slipping from his grip as you settled back in.

Dangling wires and sparking shrapnel dotted his open chest cavity, illuminated by the light of his spark chamber. Rumble had staggered off-balance into your workshop whining about the prodding pieces of broken metal keeping him from transforming properly, yet you’d barely managed to get two wires back in place before he started squirming and whingeing and slinging verbal abuse at you.

Not that you weren't used to it, any interactions with Rumble and Frenzy usually involved some level of bullying. Fortunately, the two cassettes are also incredibly predictable. As soon as you would threaten to take away or withhold what they're asking for, they’d start falling all over themselves with apologies and placations. After all, you may not have been the only mechanic in the area, but you were certainly their favorite.

“Are you going to actually let me work? Or are you going to start yelling at me again?”

“Yellin’? Who's yellin’? Yer the mechanic here, my spark is in your squishy little hands. Do your magic, doc.” He sat back again, servos clutching the edges of your workbench in a show of effort, a genuine attempt to keep them still (or however genuine any show of rule-following from Rumble could be.)

“That's what I thought. Now let me actually fix a few things before you start whining again.” Your gloved hands dipped back into his chest cavity, skirting the edges of his spark chamber to pick away at the bits of loose shrapnel stuck in some of the wires. His frame shuddered, a hiss of steam escaping through his dentae as your knuckles brushed the underside of the spark casing.

“C-Careful,” He said again, with significantly less bite to his tone.

“Does it hurt?”

“Somethin’ like dat.”

“I'll be careful, so let me know if it gets to be too much.” You smoothed a palm down the armor covering his stomach, flinching back when you heard another sharp hiss of steam.

“I’m fine! It's fine! Just… do ya gotta be all on top’a me like dis?”

“I can't reach properly if you're laying down. If you're standing you might keel over on me, and I really don't feel like being squished to death today.” He let out a low grumble as you jacked another cable back into its proper port. “I'll try to be quick, that way you won't have to worry about my ‘human germs’ and you can get outta here. Deal?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just-”

“Be careful. I know.”

And with that you went to work, separating and organizing cables, taping off leaky tubing and removing pieces of scrap metal as gently as you could. Every once in a while Rumble would jerk or twitch beneath your touch, letting out a muffled curse or huff but sparing you from his usual complaints. It was… uncharacteristically quiet, for sure. This was the most extensive repair you'd ever done on him, though, so maybe he was just having surgery jitters.

“Okay, I've gotten most of the shrapnel out. But there's a piece right behind your spark casing.”

“Well? Get it outta there!”

“I'm going to, but I need to get my whole hand in there. I'm warning you now because it's going to be bumping up against your spark casing a lot. I'm going to do my best but you have to tell me if it hurts too much.”

Rumble let out a long, pathetic groan. “Actually doc, maybe you can just leave dat one in there? F-For funsies?”

“Eh?! Rumble, I’m not gonna just ‘leave it in there’! It's gotta come out.”

“Something's gonna come out if you keep proddin’ around in there like dat…”

“What was that?”

“Gh! Nothin’! Don't worry ‘bout it!”

“...Okay. I’m gonna start now. Are you ready?” Rumble only responded with gritted dentae and a tense nod. Working your gloved hand under his spark chamber, you could feel the ambient energy making the hairs on your arm stand on end as you felt for the jagged edge of broken metal. Your glove blocked your view entirely, so you were left blindly groping your way up the metal surface, feeling for anything bent or out of place. When your fingers could no longer reach any further while still avoiding the casing, you slid forward and ducked slightly into Rumble’s open chest, the back of your hand pressing up against the underside of his spark chamber.

CLANG!

You jumped, and if it weren't for Rumble’s arm wrapping around you and almost crushing you into his open chest you may have jostled the sensitive chamber even further. You slid your hand back again, easing off of the reinforced glass, and his grip receded.

“What the hell was that? And what was that clang?”

“I said don't worry ‘bout it!” He hissed, voice glitchy with static. “Everythin’s totally normal, I dunno why you're getting all jumpy ‘bout- MMNGH?!” You moved your hand up again into the same position, and Rumble let out an embarrassingly high whimper. You glanced up at his face, a flush of pink behind the usual grey and beading with coolant… and something clicked.

“Oh my God are you getting off on this?”

“N-No!”

Behind you you heard a sharp snikt, and the sound of pressurizing hydraulics.

“...Maybe?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“H-Hey, don't go gettin’ a big head or nothin’! A bot’s spark chamber is sensitive! Don't go thinkin’ this is cause of your squishy frame or your soft little digits or nothin’!” He seemed to almost shrink in on himself, face plate practically glowing as his shoulders pulled up around his helm. You'd never say it to his face, but he looked surprisingly… small, at this moment. You heaved an exhausted sigh.

“Okay. Okay. I'm going to get this last piece out, alright? It's the last one. And whatever happens while I'm doing that..? It just happens. We won't bring it up again, no need to be embarrassed. Deal?”

“‘Deal?!?’” He squawked, positively scandalized. “How do I know yer not gonna gossip with Frenz’ the next time he's in for a tune-up?”

“Well Frenzy usually never lets me get a word in edgewise, first of all.” You huffed. This was way more than you'd signed up for. “I'm not going to make fun of you, Rumble. Let’s just get you patched up, then you can head home. Okay?”

His mouth was pulled into a tight, wobbly frown as he glanced down at you, choking out a single word. “...Promise?”

“I promise.”

“...Slag. alright, let's get dis over with.” He lolled his head back against the table with a clank, resigning himself to his fate. This time, when your knuckles brushed his spark casing, he couldn’t stifle his soft moan. Your fingers felt further and further up, until almost your entire hand was behind the glass bubble containing his pulsing spark. Finally, you could feel the jagged piece of metal. You wrapped your fingers around it and gave it an experimental tug. It stuck fast, and your hand bumping against Rumble's spark only pulled another surprised moan from him.

“W-Watch it!” He yelped, sounding too fucked-out to come across as actually threatening.

“It's really stuck in there. I'm going to start working it out, so let me know if you need me to stop.”

“Wh… workin’ it out? Whadda ya- ohhh…~”

With your thumb and forefinger gripping the edge of the broken metal, you began to wiggle it gently back and forth to ease it from the plating and wires around it. Each time you moved the back of your hand rubbed up against the far side of his spark chamber, warmth radiating through your glove as Rumble started to vent more harshly.

“Slag… slag! Don't think it's ever been touched back there before. Feels… feels crazy.” He moaned. The metal of your work table shrieked and crumpled like cardboard under his iron grip, desperate to keep his servos off of himself or, Primus forbid, you. The piece stuck firm, and as you braced your other hand against the outside paneling of his chest to readjust your balance he let out a sharp, staticky yelp. “S-STOP!”

You froze immediately. “Are you okay? What's wrong?”

A few shuddering vents were your only response for a moment, Rumble’s visor lights flickering frantically as he tried to steady himself. “Whooo… Almost blew my top for a second there.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey! Yer the one that told me to tell ya if I need ya to stop! I'll be slagged to the Pit before I let some ‘squishy’ run my charge like dat.”

“...Can I start again? I’m making some progress here.”

“...Y-Yeah. Yeah. Yer good.”

You let out another soft sigh, trying to focus on the rhythmic sktch sktch sktch of metal on metal rather than Rumble’s shivering whines. His vocalizer pitched and warbled with static, attempts to stifle his own words slowly giving way to a deluge of fucked-out babbles.

“Ah! Gh! Ohh, mmnh, stupid little hands feelin’ all- nnh!~ Jus’ get it outta there! Please?”

I’m working on it. You’re doing good, just hang in there.” Your placations only resulted in another desperate moan. After what couldn’t have been more than another thirty seconds or so, he blurted out again.

“Ah! Stop!”

You retracted your hand for a moment, letting Rumble gasp for breath above you in a futile attempt to cool his core. You rubbed at his chest paneling as he shivered beneath you hard enough that you thought bolts were going to start coming undone. Even the paneling you were seated upon was burning up, heat seeping through the fabric of your coveralls. His glowing face plate was slick with coolant. Without thinking, you reached up and swept away a bead of it with your thumb, making him jump.

“H-Hey, quit dat…” He groaned, all bite lost from his tone.

“Rumble… The more you keep stopping me the longer this is going to take.”

“You think I don’t know dat?!” One of his arms draped dramatically over his face. “I’m tryin’! But you just keep pokin’ around in there and it’s all touchy and it’s makin’ me feel like my spike’s gonna burst and I can’t take it anymore!” He sniffled. Could Cybertronians even sniffle? You weren’t sure, but he sounded close to tears.

“Rumble… Have you ever actually edged yourself before?”

“Whu- Whuh? How’s dat any of yer business?”

“I’m just thinking…” You ran a placating hand down his shivering plating. “If you haven’t it can be really overwhelming, and-”

“I can handle it! I-I can!”

“Let me finish. It can be really overwhelming, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself further. Just… take a deep breath for me, okay?” You took a slow, steadying breath, and after a second he mimicked it. “Good. Just think about letting go, okay? I’m not going to judge you. Just think about it.”

He let out a low, pitying grumble, peeking at you from behind his arm plating. “...You can start again.”

Once again, your hands dipped into his chest cavity. Only this time you slid both hands up behind his spark casing, gripping as much of the broken metal as you could reach. As you rocked it back and forth Rumble’s moans returned with a fervor, one servo finally flying to cup your lower back.

“Ah! Ah! Slag, oh slag please! Please don’t stop I’m so fraggin’ close.” He fisted the back of your uniform, crumpling the cheap fabric between his digits. “C’mon, c’mon c’mon c’mon I need it!”

“Shh, I’ve got you baby. Just let it happen.”

With a metallic shriek and a gush of brackish oil the shrapnel popped free, the force enough to send you sprawling if not for Rumble’s servo in the small of your back. Of course, said unexpected force also slammed the backs of both your hands right into the underside of his spark chamber, and Rumble’s voice box screeched into a wail of radio static. Something hot and sticky splattered up the back of your coveralls; said something you decidedly were not going to look at until later. His frame rattled and shivered beneath you, steam venting and joints glitching and spark pulsating a near-blinding glow. Finally, after a burst of noise and sparks and twitching, he went slack beneath you, helm clanking against the workbench as his optics flickered.

As delicately as you could, you removed the oil-slick shrapnel and let it clatter onto the floor before shedding your gloves and dabbing at his face plate with the cuff of your sleeve. With the whir of an old monitor blipping back to life, his visor blinked back up to its standard brightness.

“Whuh… Wheh?” He garbled.

“How you feeling, hun?”

“Like I got struck by lightnin’... but in like a nasty way.”

You choked back a snort. “Well, I’ve got all the worst of it over with. Feel free to rest for a while if you need it. I’m gonna go change my jumpsuit.”

He let you slide off his lap without a fight, not even commenting until you’d turned around to make your way over to your office. Only then did he let out a low, salacious whistle when he’d finally caught sight of the back of your uniform.

“Comm me next time yer free, doc. Then I can repay da favor.”

#transformers #valveplug #transformers x reader #rumble #transformers rumble #rumble x reader #transformers imagines #g1 transformers #my writing #long post

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thisonehere · 5 months

Text

Kharacters reacting to you opening your eyes after they assumed you died

C/w: Angst, mentions of blood and physical assault, afab reader

Kitana

The battle had finally met its end, Kitana was able to push back the army of Shao to the point of retreat. A smile spread across her face at this victory... but this smile soon faded as she noticed something: she didn't see you anywhere.

"Y/n!" She called, expecting to see among her ranks. But you weren't there.

Kitana's heart began to race as she started to look this way and that for you, but you weren't anywhere to be seen.

With a hard swallow, she turned and started to search among the bodies of the dead soldiers.

She paused and rolled over the dead bodies, hoping that you weren't one of them.

Then she saw it, she saw your mangled body lying broken in the mass of other bodies.

During the battle, you found General Shao, or he had found you, either way, it left you in this condition...and he.... he...did this to you

"No..." Kitana bellowed as she went to her knees beside you.

Kitana has seen a lot of things, done a lot of things, but seeing your brutalized body...it-it just made her sick to her stomach.

She bowed her head and took your hand as she began to make a silent prayer for your soul. As she did, she began to blame her

You had initially wanted to stay in Sun Do, but she convinced you to come and fight. Now you're here, in this shape. If it wasn't for her, you'd be safe at home.

She thinks of the life you could have had if only you never came here. She even begins to question what your life would have been like if you never crossed paths with her.

Before she can finish her revere and her prayer, your eyes snap open.

Kitana lifted her head, and a slight gasp exited her mouth.

You attempt to move but only howl in pain at your injuries. Kitana's grip on your hand tightens "Stay still," she instructs, "We're going to find you help" She assures. This settles you down, her words are surprisingly calm to you.

Though your condition is severe, Kitana can't help but smile to herself at knowing you're alive. She wants to yell at you, scold you for being so reckless in going against Shao without her. But she cannot. She is just so overwhelmed with relief that you are okay.

Bi-Han

As grand-master of the Lin Kuei, Bi-Han had many duties to fulfill. But when evening finally fell and he had completed all his tasks, he had one thing that he was forward to: spending time with you. After the great betrayal that his brother and Tomas did to him, you stood by his side no matter what and for that he was truly grateful for.

He approached your room door and gently knocked it, hoping not to startle you. "Y/n, my beloved, may I come in?" he asked.

Bi-Han waited for a response, but none came. Just silence. Bi-Han was confused, normally you would have responded by now.

He knocked again, once again with no response.

Bi-Han couldn't lie, he was getting slightly concerned, almost afraid. This wasn't like you at all. Were you giving him the silent treatment? What did he do? Is there a way he could fix things?

His patience eventually wears thin and he kicks down the door. And there he sees you lying on the ground, in a pool of your own blood.

Bi-han felt his heart drop and his blood stop as he sees you. His eyes began to dart around the room and he saw the window open, by force by the looks of it. An assassin. Did his brother send them? It doesn't matter, not right now.

He rushes to your bleeding corporeal and picks you up. He doesn't know what to do, how long were you like this? He panics and lays you on the bed. He calls for a guard "Bring a medic, NOW!". With a nod they rush away.

For the next passing moments, all Bi-Han can do is stare at your body. He shakes his head as anger begins to build up within him.

He had so many plans and things he wanted to do with you. He wanted to place a ring on your finger, hold his first-born with you, hold you tight as you slept in his bed. He also knew you yourself had plans for the future, and now it is all gone. Something that will never be.

He sits on the bed and holds you tight in his arms. Your perfume fills his nostrils, a cruel mocking of what could have been.

He looks at you face, you look so beautiful and peaceful even in this state. He wanted to kiss it, but he realized that instead he will have to bury it.

You eyes splinter open all of a sudden.

Bi-Han lets out a sigh, he hadn't even noticed he was holding his breath.

You twist in pain, disoriented by what's happening. A sharp pain shoots through your body. "Don't move." He says, holding you tight. A surprisingly cool and warm sensation springs from his body into yours providing a slight comfort.

Bi-Han was relieved, he felt his heart slow down. He heard the guard and the medic coming this way and they would see him holding you. But he couldn't care less, all that mattered to him now was that you would be okay.

Raiden

Today's training at the Wu Shi Academy was nearly overwhelming, but Raiden couldn't but find it very rewarding. He was not excited for the next part of his day: seeing you.

He quickly gathered together as many flowers as he could find (he couldn't remember what you said your favourite was) and hardly made his way to your personal chambers.

He went to the door and raised his hand to knock. But he hesitated. Was now a good time? He didn't want to bother you. Did you even want to see him.

Finally finding the courage, he knocks lightly on the door. No response.

He knocked again, slightly harder. Once again there was no response. Raiden was starting to feel embarrassed, he turned to leave.

Raiden shook his head and turned back to the door. He was going to leave for Outworld soon, this could be one of the few times he could see you. He knocks on the door much harder this time.

The door slowly creaked open. Raiden then finally noticed that the door looked like it was kicked open, the lockset was knocked out of place.

Raiden felt his heart begin to race, he hesitantly entered your room and found it was a mess. It was filled with shattered glass on the floor, dents in the wall, and some splotches of blood here and there. It looks like a struggle has taken place.

Okay, now he was really concerned.

Raiden rushed in, "Y/n!" he called.

Turning the corner, he finds your body lying there on the floor close to your bedroom. You had a blood trail behind you, you were trying to crawl away. Either from your attacker or to get help. It didn't matter now though.

Raiden felt his heart stop, and he fell to his knees beside you. "By the Elder Gods, who did this to you?" he asked, his voice beginning to shake.

Who would want to do this to you, he thought, what monster would want to hurt such a warm, kind, smart, beautiful creature like you?

He felt his eyes burn, from both tears beginning to form as well as electricity beginning to crackle around his eyes. He didn't even have control over this, all he saw was red. He was usually a gentle person, but he felt something dark come over him here and now.

"I'll find them," He promised "I'll find them, I'll-I'll kill them!" His voice, though calm, had an air of intensity around. Seeing you like this brought the dark out of him that he tried so hard to suppress. But he could care less about it, not right now at least.

Without a warning, your eyes break open. Raiden felt the lightning in his eyes vanish. His anger subsided by surprise and relief.

You wheeze and twist in agony. You feel your broken lungs crunch as you try to speak to him, tell him everything.

Raiden shushes you as he gently takes your hand. "It's okay, Y/n, we'll figure this all out later. Now, we're going to help you."

His finger glimmered with a gentle electricity. he hadn't ever really tried to heal with his amulet before, but for now, for you, he was willing to try.

As he began to work on you, he shivered as he reflected on what happened to him. It felt like he had become a completely different person. A much darker person, a dark Raiden.

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2hightocare · 14 days

Text

from the vault🤍🤍🤍 kuwtb dating era.

"You need to be quiet, baby," Jungkook whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You weren't good at being quiet, something Jungkook knew, but he loved putting his girlfriend to the test. Here you both were in your childhood bedroom, locked doors, past midnight, with your parents sleeping down the hallway.

You lay on your small bed, the pink covers down to your belly, as Jungkook leaves purplish marks on your neck. Your core dripping and soaking the lace panties you're wearing. A small chuckle escapes your boyfriend as he runs a finger through your wet folds, causing you to bite down on your bottom lip.

"You know how bad I am at being quiet... fuck," a soft moan escapes your lips as he attaches his mouth onto your nipple, twirling his tongue around the bud before sucking and occasionally biting, which has you throwing your head back and pulling on Jungkook's hair.

"That's the fun of it, baby," he stares up, giving your nipple a flick.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you watch your boyfriend throw the covers off the bed before settling in between your legs, your pink panties soaked.

—the small wet patch in the middle has Jungkook's cock twitching in his sweatpants.

"Mine," he leaves a chaste kiss on your pussy. You suck in a breath as you watch your boyfriend pull down your now-ruined thong-throwing it somewhere in your room. His tattooed hand spreads open your legs.

A desperate little cry leaves your lips as Jungkook attaches his mouth onto your pussy, licking a wet long stripe-strings of wetness and saliva mixed together whenever Jungkook separates his mouth from your aching cunt.

Jungkook doesn't waste any more time before attaching his mouth once again before ravishing your folds like there was no tomorrow. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, the wet sounds from your pussy covering your soft high-pitched moans.

"Fuck, I c-can't," You whine, your fingers tugging harshly on your boyfriend's hair to pull him off, but his grip on you is much tighter. His tongue flicks rapidly on your sensitive bud, sucking on it occasionally, making it puffy and swollen. You have a white pillow over your face, trying so hard to contain the moans you so badly want to let out.

"I'm gonna come, fuck, fuck, fuck, ah," you squeak.

The moment your eyes roll to the back of your head, about to let go, Jungkook quickly detaches his mouth from your pussy with a loud pop.

"What the fuck?" You whine, your voice muffled from behind the pillow, which has Jungkook snatching the pillow away from your face. A disheveled, pouty you stares back at Jungkook, making him laugh before dropping down to kiss your face.

"That was mean," you pout, your hands wrapped around your boyfriend's neck pulling him down, making him fall on top of you.

"Baby, I'm going to squeeze you to death," Jungkook lifts a bit of his weight, giving your lips a wet, lazy kiss.

"What a heavenly way to die," you hum happily.

"You're cute, baby," Jungkook jokingly bites your cheek, which has you giggling and pulling away. "Stop, ew!" you joke, pushing his face away before wiping his saliva off your cheek with a giggle.

"Ew? Two seconds ago I was just eating yo-" Jungkook gets interrupted with a small hand on his mouth.

"Shush, you're so loud," you hush. Jungkook only nods before licking your palm; you quickly retract your hand with a low giggle.

"Okay, baby, where are the condoms?" Jungkook quickly stands up from the bed, going directly to the place his girlfriend is pointing at. "There's only one left, remind me to buy more," Jungkook says quietly before making his way back to bed, dropping his sweats, letting his cock spring free before jumping back into bed with you.

"Hi," he says before ripping the condom open with his teeth.

"Hi," you reply back with a giggle.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jjk #bangtan #fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jeongguk x reader #jeongguk smut

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msgexymunson · 9 months

Text

Treasure

Description: watching the latest Mad Max film has you discovering something new about Eddie and his kinks

A/N: just a smutty blurb I came up with when I watched that film last night! Ignore the timeline, just pretend Fury Road came out in the 80s. Please reblog if you like my work, I'll love you forever, promise.

Warnings: AFAB reader, NSFW, minors DNI, subby Eddie, breeding kink, p in v unprotected sex (reader on b/c)

2k words

Masterlist

The new Mad Max film blares its opening titles, echoing off of the tinny walls of the trailer. The lights are all off; darkness had fallen outside some time ago, so the only light came from the flickering blue glare of the TV.

There was barely enough room to sit side by side on the narrow bed, so you sat between Eddie's spread legs, your back flush with his chest, cuddled in a swaddling embrace. You'd only been seeing each other for a couple of months, but the comfort of having his arms around you in such a natural way made you feel safe.

"I've been looking forward to watching this, took a lot not to watch it before you came around." He admits, hand reaching up to stroke your face briefly.

"Well, aren't I lucky."

"Damn straight."

You laugh, grabbing his hand and wrapping it back around your torso, settling down to watch the movie.

Losing yourself in the film, you focus on the characters, the chases, the struggles. Then you notice Eddie's hand has drifted to your thigh. Your eyes roll upwards, he's usually handsy with you when you're trying to watch TV so this is not surprising. What is surprising is the nature of his movements. They seem compulsive, thumb rubbing back and forth as if he's not aware he's doing it. Staring at his hand, you see it's trembling slightly.

You cup his hand with yours and he stops immediately.

"You alright there baby? Are the girls that hot?" You quip, amusement in your voice.

"Oh, no, not at all!" He shakes his head, a few strands grazing your cheek. "They're pretty, sure, not a patch on you." He responds, kissing your temple. The reply is so forthright and honest, like everything else he says to you. It's definitely the truth. Honestly, you wouldn't even be jealous if it was the girls that got him worked up. You know he's yours.

Settling back down, you continue watching, but curiosity is chewing on your brain. It's fuelled even further by a very familiar bulge that's now digging into the small of your back.

It's only when you hear the character on screen saying 'his treasures, his prize breeders' and Eddie's hand grips your thigh hard, that you put two and two together. He tries to disguise it as a cough, but the damage is done.

You tilt your head back a little so you can take in his profile. For once, Eddie looks nervous. His cheeks are flushed, eyes as wide as a bush baby, nibbling on his lip neurotically. He's never looked so flustered.

The devil on your shoulder is whispering an idea in your brain that you can't ignore. Seeing him so worked up is doing something to you, blood travelling in between your legs.

Softly, so he barely notices at first, you run your hands up and down his thighs. Gentle caresses, back and forth, until you feel him hum in his chest, melting slightly. He's relaxing beneath you. Your nails join in, dragging across the soft fabric of his sweatpants.

"Eddie, am I your treasure?" You ask sweetly, voice as innocent as you can muster.

"Of- of course, baby." He responds, a quiver in his voice, tensing up again at your words.

"Is that what you want? For me to be your treasure?" You ask, pressing your back against him harder, beginning to gently grind on his bulge.

"Wha-what do you m-mean?"

He staggers it out, his usual cadence gone. It's high pitched, almost whiny. This is going well out of your usual territory; it wasn't uncommon for Eddie to be pulling whimpers out of you, not the other way around.

You have to say it, to take the leap.

Leaning to whisper right in his ear, you decide to just come out with it.

"Do you want to breed me Eddie?"

His eyes widen even further, mouth falling open. You continue to grind against him, your hands tracing higher up his thighs.

"Is that it baby? You wanna fuck me raw, fill me up?"

The noise he makes is alien to you. It's high, quivering and desperate. His breathing has quickened, hands coming to rest shakily on yours.

Pulling them off you gently, you reach for the remote and pause the movie. Then, you swivel around so you can straddle him, throbbing heat pressed against his rock hard length.

"Eddie, answer me." You say quietly, but firmly. His hands rest on your hips, anxiously rubbing the skin under your shirt. His shirt, the old one you'd stolen weeks ago.

"I- I, erm, yeah, I mean, fuck" He stutters, losing control as you massage his length with each roll of your hips, only your panties and his sweats in the way of absolute pleasure.

You grasp his chin between thumb and forefinger, forcing his gaze to meet yours.

"Eddie. Words."

"I mean, yeah." His voice is smaller than you've ever heard. Then, it all rushes out of his mouth in a jumble.

"But I, I don't mean I want to like, have kids right now or something it's just-"

"You like the fantasy."

He nods so hard and fast it's almost comical. The puppy dog look he's giving you is so soft and you don't want to hurt his feelings, so you swallow your laugh.

"You know, I was gonna mention earlier…" you start as you run a hand through the front of his hair, nails dragging on his scalp slightly, his eyes rolling back at the gesture.

"What sweetheart?" He all but whispers, his head rolling in tandem with your ministrations.

"I'm on the pill now."

His eyes snap back open, bugging out of his head almost. A laugh escapes then, you can't help it. It's a girlish giggle, which turns into a dirty smirk.

Grinding against him harder, hand coming to rest on his chest, a moan sounds low inside you, echoing from deep within. The friction is good, making you wet, but it's not enough.

You need him. Now.

"So, you wanna fill me up? You can cum inside me, as many times as you want."

"You'll let me?" He looks shocked.

"Oh please, sweets, please."

His grip on your hips is harder now, fingers tight on your flesh.

He all but sulks when you climb off him, pouting his bottom lip like a child. It's not for long though, as you shimmy out of your panties, discarding them somewhere on the floor. You pull his sweats off and away swiftly, to join the mire of mess on his carpet.

Hovering back over him, you circle the tip of his leaking cock. It's teasing, you know, but he looks so flustered and sweaty and desperate.

"Can I take this off?" He asks, tugging at the hem of your shirt, "please?"

The question takes you back. You're not used to being in control, the thrill of it tingles through your nerves. You pull the top off very slowly, finally releasing your breasts. Eddie groans in his throat at the sight.

As you sink down on him, you press your mouth on his, collecting his moans in your throat. Your pussy swallows him up, sucking him in greedily. You do the same with your tongue, fervently licking into him, heating up your mouth, your skin, your cunt.

The room is soon filled with the sound of your slapping skin, your nails leaving red crescents into his shoulders.

"Fuck, you feel so amazing. Go- go a bit slower, please." You comply, rocking into him, his swollen length jotting against your g spot with each pass.

Leaning towards him, you let your lips brush against his ear, hot breath fanning against the shell of it.

"This what you wanted baby, hmm? To feel everything…" Letting the word linger, you push against him harder, fingers winding into his hair.

"Yeah, oh yes- fuck"

"Yeah? You wanna cum inside me? Stuff me full of your cum? You want little Munsons running around the place, hmm?"

He whimpers. He actually fucking whimpers.

You pull on the lock of hair you've twisted in your grip, making his noises even more strangled.

"Baby, oh my God, please, can I get on top?"

"Of course, your treasure will do anything for you" you smirk.

"Fuck!"

He pushes you down then, flipping you onto the mattress as he fucks into you intensely, hand coming to your clit to rub tight circles. Even in his state he still wants you to come first.

The coil in your stomach that has been tightening slowly speeds up at his touch, warming through your body, tingles reaching right to your fingers and toes. The heat is outstanding, buzzing between you both. Your insides are fluttering as you dig heels into his bare ass, forcing him as close as he can get, needing more, more.

"Please come, Jesus Christ, I need it, I need it. Come so I can, please!"

Its babble, spewing from his lips in urgent bubbles of sound. The subby neediness of it is what pushes you over that edge, clenching hard around his thick member, squeezing him to within an inch of his life. You scream out your release, throaty and rough, gripping his biceps tightly.

"Oh my God sweets, fuck!"

The feeling must be just as intense for him. You push him further, knowing he wants it.

"Eddie, please cum inside me, I need your cum, I wanna feel it, fuckin' breed me Eddie."

That was it, that pushed him over the edge; the word 'breed'. He releases deep inside, crying out your name so loudly you're sure the neighbours are going to complain. He's throbbing inside, still coming, and coming. Finally, it stops and he goes limp, slipping out of you. You accept his weight, holding him to you closely.

A cold, wet feeling on your chest takes you by surprise. Looking down you see that Eddie is crying. Not hard, just little, hiccupping sobs that make your heart swell.

"Shh, it's OK baby, it's OK." Attempting to placate him, your fingers run through his hair trying to soothe him.

The whimpering stops and he looks at you, eyes almost shameful.

"I'm so sorry that was pathetic, honestly-"

"Baby, I ain't judging." Flashing him a soft smile.

"I just never came that hard. Ever."

Your chest swells with pride but you jolt as you feel his fingers on your soaking heat.

"Baby what are you doing?"

"Keeping my cum inside you."

Giggles explode out of you, slapping his arm. He doesn't stop, fingers hard against your cunt.

"That was really fucking hot. I should let you take charge more often."

"Let me? Seems I took charge all on my own."

"And I thank you for it." He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your chin.

He hesitates, fingers still harsh on your cunt.

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" You stare down at him, confused.

His voice drops down an octave, eyes flashing menace.

"That I can cum in you, as much as I want?"

Biting your lip, you nod.

"Fill me up Eddie."

"Fuuuck" He huffs, biting down on the soft skin of your breast, "give me five minutes and I'm gonna rock your world."

Giggles are replaced by moans when he shoves two fingers inside your soaking cunt.

Seems you've unlocked a new kink of his. You smile, happy to be his treasure.

Taglist (I'm just tagging some likely candidates ;)

@munson-blurbs @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @emsgoodthinkin @names-were-taken @joejoequinnquinn @zestychili @lunatictardis @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @tlclick73 @corrodedcoffincumslut @unfocused81 @liminalpebble @truffleshuffle12 @bookshelf-dust

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #sub!eddie munson x reader #sub!eddie munson #sub!eddie #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson breeding #eddie munson breeding kink

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moonchildstyles · 3 months

Note

can we get a chiaroscuro blurb where maybe harry chases petal around? like a game but it takes a spicy turn 👀

wordcount: 8.4k+

—————

(Y/N) fumbled with her keys as she took the short scale of steps to the front door of the manor, her hands full of grocery bags she was too stubborn to make more than one trip for. She could feel her back sweating under the heavy cardigan dropped over her form, the sun far too bright and warm given the time of year.

Just when she thought she had the grip right, her keys fell to her feet and out of reach. An exasperated huff fell from her lips. She should have just called Harry to help when she made it home.

Bending carefully to keep her grocery bags from tumbling out of her arms, she blindly reached around for her keys. Her fingers grazed the stoop with no such luck, her annoyance growing just as the heavy door to the manor swung open.

"My love, is everything al—What are you doing on the ground?" Harry rushed, urgency entering his voice once he caught sight of her struggle, "What happened? Are you hurt?"

He was at her side in a blink, immediately taking the bags from her arms and steadying her. He took stock of her, a familiar expression striking his features; he was worried, near frantic attempting to find where she could have been injured.

"I'm okay," she shook her head, grateful for him taking some of the burden from her hands, "I just thought I wouldn't have to make more than one trip, then I dropped my keys and it's just—I don't know, it's too hot outside."

A pinch creased Harry's brows, giving him wrinkles that would disappear the second he smoothed his features. "Why didn't you call for me? I would have helped you, petal."

She shook her head, following after Harry with her keys in hand and only a single grocery bag into the manor. "It's too sunny. I thought I could make it, so I didn't want to make you come out if you didn't have to."

"I can handle some sun, darling," he assured her, getting her safely inside the manor before he closed the door and sealed out the unseasonal sunshine, "Especially if it is for you."

A small smile curled over her lips at his declaration. Of course he would say that it is worth it to potentially combust or go blind if it meant that he could help her bring her groceries in.

It was sweet—and only a little stupid.

Marching off to the kitchen, Harry didn't wait before he began unpacking all of her items and placing them within the cabinets and fridge. (Y/N) did little more than perching on the countertop, knowing that he wouldn't allow any kind of help since she had already gone through the trouble to shop herself (on his dime, though he never let her use that against him in the argument). She knew he could have it done in a matter of seconds, but he tended to refrain from using his supernatural abilities in moments like this, insisting she made him want to slow down and feel normal with her. That left her to watch as he bubbled around, unpacking with the reusable bags being folded away for another time.

The sight brought her back to her first night at the manor, before she had even met him. The kitchen had been so clumsily stocked with the strangest variety of ingredients. Neither him nor Niall had any idea of what a human needed to make a proper meal.

"Has the forecast changed at all for this afternoon?" (Y/N) asked, not bothering to take her eyes off him as he worked.

A grim line settled on his lips. "Not as far as I know. I am starting to worry I won't be able to accompany you later."

Her mouth edged into a soft pout. "Really?"

"'M afraid so, my love," he said, an apologetic quirk to his lips.

"I don't want to go if you can't come, though," (Y/N) argued, kicking her feet from where she sat on the counter. She was just a moment away from pulling out her phone and rain checking on Charlotte for another day.

"You should still go, petal," Harry countered, putting away the last ingredient before he drifted to stand between her spread thighs, "Do not cancel on my account."

"But the whole point of today was so you could meet my friends. It kind of defeats the purpose if you don't come with me." She would have to tell them he came down with something, and reschedule to a day with a promise of cloudy weather.

His lips were still in a thin line when he settled his hands on her thighs, a chill seeping through the denim of her jeans. "I do not want you to miss out on your friends and your human activities on my account. I don't think it's fair."

"I see Charlotte and the others plenty, H," she said, placing her own hands on his with her palms warming his skin, "Today really was going to mostly be about you. Plus, I know Charlotte kind of loves it when I cancel, so she can stay in with her boyfriend instead. They'll understand."

With the pinch between his brows only winding tighter, (Y/N) knew he was far from convinced but when he peeked up at her through his lashes, she could tell he wasn't going to argue. "Only if you are sure, my love. Please, if you change your mind, do not feel bad about leaving me here. I want you to do whatever makes you happiest."

"I will," she settled with a small smile, despite knowing that her happiest would be found right here in the manor with him.

Curling her fingers around his own, she held onto his hands as she leant towards him and pressed a small kiss to his lips.

It was Harry that chased after her when she began to pull away, ensuring she wasn't far before the chill of his mouth was once again buttoned to her own. She smiled into his kiss.

"Are you happy I'm staying home now?" she asked against his mouth, causing him to push his kiss to the corner of her mouth.

He paused, his hands flexing around the full of her thighs.

"Perhaps a little."

—————

"Let me finish this one section. Then I am all yours, petal."

Harry's murmured voice was quiet in the middle of his studio, barely much louder than the swish of his brush over the canvas propped in front of his stool. His palette was full of color, the evidence of the last hour of work he'd put into the finishing layer of his latest piece.

(Y/N) couldn't contain the heavy sigh she heaved as she draped herself over his form. Her arms dangled down over his shoulders, her face pressed cheek to cheek with his. A pout was on her lips as she watched him make changes so subtle she could barely even notice them.

This wasn't exactly what she had in mind when she cancelled her day plans.

He'd been at this for what felt like forever, and (Y/N) had been itching to pry him away for at least the last twenty minutes. She could hardly stand still, let alone actually watch him.

It was his fault, really.

It was Harry who had used the early hours of the afternoon to make a batch of sugary cupcakes, complete with chocolate frosting and raspberry compote shoved in the middle. After being the taste tester during the making and stealing a couple once they were cooled, (Y/N) was now experiencing what she could only call a sugar high and wanted Harry's attention more than anything. (Though she wasn't up to admit it, the late afternoon latte she made out of boredom probably had more than just a little to do with the extra energy).

She impatiently watched him make another minute stroke, adding a barely there brush of white highlight on a bush. The sound of his brush swirling through paint on his palette had her jaw ticking.

"Are you done yet?"

A huff of laughter left Harry's lips. "Almost, my love. What has gotten into you, may I ask?"

"I'm bored, and I want to play with you," she pouted, curling her arms around him in a clumsy hug.

"Yeah?" he prompted, his smile audible, "What would you like to play, hm?"

He was only teasing her, she was sure. He hadn't even stopped painted when he spoke. (Y/N) deflated, sinking into his shoulders. "I don't know."

The change in her inflection had Harry pushing his palette to the side, his full attention landing on her as he twirled on his stool to face her. He collected her hands in his, the glamoured green of his eyes wavering in distress.

"I didn't mean to upset you, love—I promise I was only teasing," he pleaded with her, canting his head with his cool hands squeezing hers.

Maybe it was a bit awful of her, but she couldn't help herself but to poke just a hair further to get what she wanted.

"It's okay," she told him, though she played up the moment with her mouth in a pout, "Will you hang out with me now? Please?"

"Of course, my love," he rushed out, standing to the full of his height with his hands still wrapped around hers, "Anything you want, we will do. I am at your disposal."

Perhaps she hadn't thought her little plan through quite as well as needed, (Y/N) realized. She didn't even know what she wanted to do, only knowing that she wanted to erase her boredom and she wanted Harry to be there when she did.

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she flitted her eyes away from his own intense gaze. "You pick."

"Me?" Harry pressed, serious expression on his features. His hands around hers shifted until he had their fingers laced together, his thumb running along the outside of hers.

(Y/N) shrugged, almost wishing she had let him continue painting instead of this. "I didn't think this far ahead."

His face softened into a gentle smile, his brows loosening with his eyes almost glimmering as he gazed at her. "Okay," he sounded, "I will think of something, then. Your only job is to tell me if you think you would have fun."

A furrow touched his brows much to (Y/N)'s delight. He always looked especially cute when he was concentrating like this.

"I can do that," she smiled at him, happy to have his attention after the long afternoon.

It only took a beat before Harry was flicking his gaze to match hers. "What is something humans do when they cannot go outside? What kind of activities would y'play when you were unable to go out?"

The question had (Y/N) thinking back to the days before Harry—before the rain and the clouds were their best friends. "Probably read or watch a movie or something," she answered, "I have too much energy, though—none of that sounds fun."

It was Harry's turn to puff his lips into a pout, his gaze dropping to their joined hands and growing distant with his thoughts whirring. "Okay," he drawled, "Are there any games that sound fun to you, petal?"

Sifting through her memories like a rolodex, (Y/N) pinged on something she hadn't thought about in years. "When I was a kid," she started, "Me and my sister would play stupid things like tag or hide and seek if we couldn't play outside. I was never very good at it, but I think it could be fun."

The smile that bloomed on his face told her that he had it all figured out then. "Let us do that, petal. We can still play even if it's only the two of us, yes?"

"Hide and seek?" (Y/N) clarified, unable to keep her own lips from stretching into a grin as she saw his own.

"Yes!" he bubbled, entirely too giddy over a childhood game, "That would be fun, wouldn't it? You would not be bored while playing, right?"

A peal of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips at his declaration, her energy bouncing off of his. "You're going to win every time, though. You'll always know where I am."

"I swear I will not pay attention," he assured her, "No cheating, I promise."

A bubbly smile drew (Y/N)'s features with soft curves. The manor was so big, this was the kind of place she would have killed to play such a game in when she was a kid. She just had to hope Harry wouldn't find her too easily when it was his turn.

"Okay," (Y/N) sang, using her grip on his hands to lead him out of the studio, "But, you're hiding first."

"Now?" he blanched, looking taken aback as if he hadn't suggested this game himself.

"Yes, now," (Y/N) laughed, pushing Harry out into the hallway with her ands untangling from his, "I'm going to start counting, and if you're not hiding, I still win if I catch you."

(Y/N) didn't wait for a reaction, instead turning her back to him with her hands covering her eyes. She began counting loudly for him to hear. After a moment of lag, his footsteps finally began to retreat, disappearing in a blink by the time she had counted to fifteen. If not for her eyes already being closed, she would have rolled them; Harry was already using his abilities to his advantage despite just vowing not to cheat. She continued counting through her smile.

While (Y/N) couldn't remember the exact rule from her childhood, she was sure she didn't count for as long as she was supposed to. He didn't need that much time anyway, she decided. He'd probably already found a hiding space as soon as he disappeared.

Entering into the hall and leaving the studio behind, she couldn't help that rush of adrenaline that always came with this kind of game. While she was technically the hunter in this scenario, she felt those nervous butterflies every time she peeked around a corner or peered into a dark room, anticipating the sight of Harry waiting for her. It didn't help that he could be completely silent when he wanted, leaving her with no warning of where he would spring up.

Her search took her through much of the first floor before she grew antsy and trekked up the staircase towards his wing of the manor. While he didn't spend too much time in his bedroom any more after moving into her lighter chambers, it was still a space he knew better than anywhere else.

Though much of the decor had shifted in the house, leaving behind some of the more grotesque paintings and ominous sculptures, this wing of the manor still contained those relics of the past. She had insisted that he keep his space as he had it, not wanting him to change everything just because she was now a part of his life. That left her padding down the dark hallway with the blank white eyes of the demonic cherubs following after her. Sobbing angels and puddles of blood littered the backgrounds of these scenes, taking (Y/N) back to the early days when she had first arrived at the manor.

Curling her sweater sleeves over her hands against a phantom chill in the corridor, she peeked into the various rooms lining the hall. Her heart beat heavy in her ears every time she pulled open a door, expecting to see Harry's pale features shining through the dark. Her paced breathing and footsteps were the only other sounds to be heard in the silent passage.

She saved his bedroom for last, this being the only room she was actually familiar with in the hall. Her stomach was flooded with butterflies as she twisted the knob, pushing open the door before crossing the threshold into the chilly room. Goosebumps pricked her skin as she stepped inside, not bothering to flick on the lights as if that would break the effect of the game—as if she wasn't starting to actually grow spooked.

His room was still decked in velvet and silk, golden and black features streaming throughout. She could still clearly recall the night she had tucked herself under the heavy duvet, waiting out the monsters that had called to her outside. She remembered the way Harry had tried to soothe her in the night, when her sleep had grown restless. How that moment had felt like a dream only for it to be one of the first pages in their story.

Her breath caught in her throat when she swore she saw a shadow move behind the drawn curtains.

Stepping on silent feet, she ventured further into his bedroom, hesitantly peeking around his wardrobe and even chancing a look inside. Each attempt was fruitless as she changed her direction towards the bathroom attached to the room.

There was a static in the air, the kind that made her sure there was someone else sharing this space with her, but there was no Harry to be seen. The hinges of the bathroom door creaked just as she felt a set of hands land on her shoulder.

"Found you."

Harry's breath washed over the side of her neck, a shiver running down her spine at the same time she startled in her spot. Her heart skyrocketed to her throat, beating heavy behind her ribs and echoing in her ears.

Spinning to face him with her hand to her neck and mouth dropped in a gasp, she looked to him with accusing eyes. "You scared me! I'm supposed to be finding you!"

"I'm sorry," he said through an amused smile that did nothing for his point, "You walked past me twice, petal. I couldn't wait any longer."

Settling in her skin, (Y/N) was able to pout over her lost game. "I would have found you."

"I am sure y'would have, my love, but now y'can relax. I could hear your heart beating like you were running a marathon."

Sometimes she forgot just how in tune with her body he was; he knew everything, many of them she barely even noticed herself. Nothing was overlooked.

"I was right to be scared," she countered, her skin warming as he dropped his hands from her shoulders to follow the length of her arms down to her hands, "You ended up scaring me just like I thought you would."

"Darling," he drawled, ducking his head to be level with her gaze, "I really didn't mean to—I was hoping I would make you laugh, that's all."

Collecting her into his arms, Harry hugged her against his chest in apology. As much as she wanted to believe him, (Y/N) could still feel that smile of his, complete with both dimples, as he tucked his face into the warmth of her neck.

"It's okay, H," she murmured, nonetheless reciprocating his hug with her arms around his neck. He sunk into her hold, heavy and adoring as he relaxed. With her mouth by his ear, she whispered, "Your turn."

With that, she pushed off of him, laughter spilling from her lips as she scuttled out of his bedroom. Heading towards the staircase at the end of the corridor, she turned around with a beaming smile just to see him looking after her like she thought he would. The sight made her grin that much larger.

"Start counting—and no cheating!"

All but sprinting through the manor, (Y/N) left him behind, finally working out that giddy energy she'd been holding onto through the afternoon. While she knew there was little chance that this was going to be a very fair game given the fact that he couldn't turn off his senses, she still wanted to have fun and see if she could confuse him and have even a minute chance at winning.

In an attempt to play dirty, she ran around the manor, traipsing through the kitchen, her bedroom, the art studio, any door she could get through without wasting too much time to leave her scent any and everywhere. Her heartbeat and breathing were going to be her giveaways, but this could buy her time if Harry fell for it.

By the time she knew she was closing in on the remainder of her time, she settled on hiding in the laundry room. The room had two entrances—one opening to what used to be considered a maid's quarters, and the other out into the hallway. Leaving the door to the hallway open in hopes of through him off, she tucked herself out of sight. She fixed her eyes on the slight crack in the open door with the maid's entrance to her back.

The longer (Y/N) stayed tucked away, the more that familiar anticipation crept in. Though, instead of being the hunter, she was now the hunted, sitting like a duck as she waited to be caught. The worst part was how silent Harry would undoubtedly be—she wouldn't even know she had been found until he had his hands on her.

Keeping her eyes fixed to the crack in the door, (Y/N) waited. It took everything to keep from wriggling and giving away her spot, despite the growing buzz in her stomach that urged her to run or use the restroom (the juvenile urge being one she only really felt while playing this game, she realized). He must be staying as true as he could to his vow of no cheating since he was taking his time to make it through the manor, his speed being left in his bedroom.

Out of nowhere, there was a creak from a floorboard heard down the hallway. (Y/N) clamped her mouth shut, pacing her breathing as if that would help. At least she knew where he was now.

Her gaze never strayed from where she could see just a sliver out into the hall, waiting to see the green knit of his sweater. The longer she waited, the harder her heart beat. There was no other creak or sound of movement telling her where he could have retreated.

She rolled her lips between her teeth. Could she chance a shift in her spot, just to see I she could spot him elsewhere?

A breath too late, from the corner of her eye she saw a familiar green sweater and pale features.

"Harry, no," she laughed right as he caught her with his hands landing on the soft curve of her waist, "You cheated!"

Tugging her to his chest, Harry pulled her out of hiding and right to him. A wondrous light had settled in his eyes as he took in her laughter. "How did I cheat? I gave you plenty of time, petal."

"You're not allowed to be so quiet," she argued, already pulling away from his embrace, "Go hide, it's my turn."

Harry didn't let her get very far before he was pulling her back to his chest, dipping his head down and leveling his gaze with hers. "No, I won. I found you," he smiled, tipping his chin to press his lips to the soft of hers.

(Y/N) drew away first, keeping herself from getting distracted. Energy was still trickling through her system, she didn't want to stop now. "I know, so it's my turn again."

Chasing after her, another kiss was planted over her mouth. He spoke against her lips, "No, I win. I get m'prize now."

She laughed into his kiss, Harry swallowing the sound between his parted lips. "Your prize?"

Pulling away just enough to match her gaze with his nose bushing hers, amusement sparkled in his eyes. "Are you not my winnings?"

A spark bubbled under her skin, meeting with lingering butterflies that had her slipping out of his arms. He was always going to win in the end, but she was going to get in as many rounds as she could before then.

"Fine," she relented, shooting him an excitable smile as she bounced on her feet, "but you have to catch me first."

With that, she shot out of the laundry room, slipping out of his reach. A bright smile was on her lips as she pictured the look on she had undoubtedly left on his face. It wasn't until she had ran her way down the hall, reaching a corner that she peered over her shoulder.

Harry had only followed her far enough to be peeking out into the corridor, a furrow to his brow and slight quirk to his lips. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I don't know!" she giggled, skidding around the corner before popping her head around to peek at him once more, "And, no cheating!"

She heard his laugh as she sped down the winding hall and towards the staircase. There was no clear destination in mind, just knowing that she wanted to make a little bit of trouble for him before she was caught.

The fact that he hadn't reached her already told her that he had listened to her rules, but that didn't mean he was very far behind if the sound of his rapid footsteps was anything to go by.

By the time she made it to the sitting room, murals of the heavens watching as she raced through, she could hear Harry's barely a heartbeat behind her. Daring to peek over her shoulder, she could see him descending the stairs, a furrow to his brow until he caught her looking. Then, he had a splitting grin on his face.

A giddy peal of laughter fell from her lips as she ran harder from him, feeling that adrenaline leak into her system knowing that he was right there. It would be so easy for him to use his supernatural traits and catch her before she took her next step, but he was letting her keep her little game up. He was enjoying the chase.

He followed her into the kitchen where she slid her socked feet across the floor, catching her balance before she could tumble to the floor. The close call had just that much more energy hitting her system.

"Be careful, petal," Harry scolded her, having just barely caught her near miss.

"No," she laughed, knowing she sounded a bit like a petulant child before she was off again. She could hear his own huff of laughter from where she left him behind.

It didn't take long before she felt the stretch of Harry's fingers graze the back of her sweater, the beats of his feet just behind her. She yelped at the touch, instinctively trying to throw him off by zagging towards the stairs once more. Before she could lead him up, he closed the distance and wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her away from the steps.

"We are not going to run up the stairs like this, petal," he laughed, not even a little out of breath as he tucked her back to his chest.

"You cheated at the end," she accused in a pant, laughing as she tilted her head back to look up at him.

His features were upside down from where she gazed down at her, smug smile on his lips. "Perhaps, but I still win."

Before she could argue, he had her spun around in his arms. The world spun around her as Harry threw her over his shoulder, her hips settled on the cuff of his shoulder with her arms dangling down his back and legs kicking in front of him. His arm created a bar across the backs of her thighs, keeping her steady as she wriggled over him.

"I get to take you away now, petal," he declared, starting towards the stairs on much more steady feet this time, "No more running from me."

"I thought you said we were going to play whatever I wanted today," she faux-whined, clinging to him as he reached the landing of the second level.

"I think you'll like this break from your game, puppy," he answered simply.

She was sure they both felt the change in the pace of her heart then. With that one word, she knew he was right. She was going to enjoy whatever game he wanted to put on now.

Pushing into their bedroom, (Y/N) was unceremoniously plopped onto the bed, unmade bedding rustling around her. The mattress bounced under her back just as Harry settled followed, crawling to the middle of the bed to sit himself between her thighs.

His weight had her sinking into the plush sheets with her thighs spread wide to accept his hips against her own. A heady bulge pressed against her core as he buried his face against her neck. The tip of his nose skimmed over the column of her throat, her skin breaking into goosebumps at the touch. She could feel the smile curling on his lips at her reaction.

Bringing her hands up to tangle through his hair, she hiked her thigh around the cuff of his hip. The chill of his lips held that much more of an effect on her when he pressed them o her heated throat.

"What's gotten into you?" she asked, preening under the attention.

Harry's response came in between the smattering of kisses he gave to her neck, the scratch of his teeth sending a shiver down her spine. "I liked chasing you," he murmured against her skin, words melting into her pores, "Jus' wanted to catch you and take you away."

(Y/N) felt breathless at his admission. That wasn't the intended effect she had been going for with her game, but she couldn't say she didn't like it.

"Take me away to do what?" she pressed, wanting nothing more than to have his voice wash over her with every minute detail that came to mind.

"To fuck you, puppy," he answered simply, taking her breath away when he scraped his teeth against the well-bitten spot on her neck. "You know that."

Her reaction was enough to spur him on as he sucked a mark onto the hollow of her throat. Her fingers coiled in his curls, arching into him with her head tipping to the side to give him more skin to roam. Harry happily took advantage, teasing her with nips at the curve of her neck once he was satisfied with the faint mark he left behind on her skin.

"You want that too, puppy?" Harry murmured against her throat, the full of his lips pillowing over the goosebumps on her skin, "Want me to fuck you?"

She didn't even think before she was nodding as best she could with her cheek pressed to the mattress, her mouth dropped in a breathless gasp. Harry's smug smile could be felt against her neck before he drew back, matching her eyes with his own intense gaze.

"Say it."

Her heart hammered against her rib cage, her thighs squeezing around his hips. How her stupid game of hide and seek led to this, she wasn't sure, but she was willing to do it again every day if this was the kind of effect it had on Harry.

When she didn't immediately answer him, Harry pulled one of his hands up and lightly tapped on her warm cheek with his three middle fingers.

"C'mon, puppy. I wanna hear y'say it."

Though it was far from the filthiest thing she's said for him or he's said to her, she still felt her skin warm and throat bob as she followed his instruction.

"I want you to fuck me, Harry."

His eyes fell to her lips, watching her mouth form the words and her breathless voice carry them out. There was a note of pride in his gaze as he took in her obedience.

"I can do that for you, petal."

Ducking his head down, he smeared his lips against hers, tongue slipping inside her mouth and sampling a taste of her own. (Y/N) raked her fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp as she leant into every bit of affection he offered. She locked her thighs around his hips, every sweep of his tongue causing a pulse of the muscles.

Wordlessly, he slipped his arms around her cradling her to him just before he rolled them over in the tufts of their bedding. In a breath, without having separated from their kiss, he had placed himself underneath her form. (Y/N) sat in his lap, knees bracketing his hips with Harry's legs bent at the knee behind her to keep her steady in her place. Once she caught up with her body, she startled, instinctively reaching to place her palms on his shoulders as she drew away from his mouth with her kiss-swollen lips in a gape.

Harry's pupils were blown wide as he looked up at her, his bottom lip fit snugly between his teeth. "Haven't had you on top in a while, huh, puppy?"

Despite talking as if he expected an answer from her, Harry rocked his hips underneath hers, effectively robbing any chance of speech. (Y/N) could only shake her head—it really had been a while since she'd been the one above.

Pleased with her eager breathlessness, Harry dropped his hand to fit the curve of her waist, a slight flex of his fingers pushing dents into the soft skin. "Show me how you're going to ride me, petal. I want to see you to work for my cock."

He spoke with no reservations, commanding with all the affection in the world embedded in his tone. There was no way she could say no to that. She wanted to give him everything just as much as he did for her.

Digging her fingertips into the broad of his shoulders, she steadied herself with her knees on either side of him. His legs behind her were the easiest way to keep herself steady as she started rocking herself on his lap, using his thighs to lean against with every roll of her hips.. The bulge of his cock pressed headily against her core with each brush, her stomach tightening along with her breathless lungs.

"Y'can do better than that, darling," he taunted, his voice playfully mocking, "I know you don't expect me to be gentle today, right? Not after y'made me chase you around just to get you all pretty in my lap. Gonna take more than this to get my cock in you."

Taking advantage of his grip on her waist, Harry took over, bouncing her on his lap as if to show what he was looking for from her. The rhythm of her grinding was dismissed as he pumped her over his cock, his thighs spreading at her back as her ass dropped into his lap over and over, his cock pressing directly against her clit through the fabric of her pants. Small moans managed to escape from (Y/N)'s throat even with the squeeze of her lungs.

"This is better, right, puppy?"

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she breathed, her eyes fluttering to a close. It was better than her grinding, but nowhere near as satisfying as stuffing his cock inside. "More, pl-please."

His lips curled her words. "Y'think you're ready to do this on m'cock? Even if I don't help you?"

The nod of her head was automatic, no extra thought given to whatever parameters he gave her. She could make anything work as long as she got out of her clothes and had her pussy full of him.

Harry stopped bouncing her then, his hands stilling as he kept her from moving herself. (Y/N) wanted to whine, to complain that he had stopped her just as he shushed her with a kiss, leaning up to meet her lips.

"Do not pout, puppy. Can't fuck y'through my clothes, can I? At least not the way y'like."

With that, (Y/N) didn't hesitate to climb off his lap and rid herself of her clothes. Her sweater and pants became a messy pile on the floor with her panties soon following. She heard a soft laugh sound from behind her when she flung her bra onto the floor in her haste. Despite the chill glancing over her skin, (Y/N) didn't wait before crawling back into Harry's just-as-cold embrace.

He welcomed her back into his lap readily, his cock hard between his thighs. She felt her own core tighten at the sight of his blocked muscles, the creamy pallor of his skin making his tattoos look that much darker. His gaze was its own aphrodisiac as he pinned his eyes to her form kneeling over his lap, drinking her in just as much as she did him.

"So gorgeous, darling," he told her, his voice a gentle coo compared to the hard lines of his body, "If I could dream at all, it would be of you. You know that, right?"

"I dream of you, every night," she told him sweetly as if she wasn't inches above his hardened cock, her center slick and waiting for him.

"Good dreams?" he asked, just as he always did with a dimpled smile on his lips.

"The best," she declared, fitting her hands on his shoulders with her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips.

"Give me a kiss, puppy," he crooned, tipping his chin just right to give her access to his lips.

Pressing her mouth to his, Harry took the lead with his hands cupping the full of her hips. He welcomed the warmth of her kiss, swiping his tongue over hers with the slick parting sounds of their lips filling the quiet bedroom.

"Ready to take me, puppy?" Harry breathed against her lips, unwilling to pull too far away.

"Please," was (Y/N)'s cooed response before melding her lips to his once more.

Using his hold on her hips, Harry eased (Y/N) onto his cock. He fit the tip inside her wet center, swallowing the gasp she let out against his mouth. Her hands on his shoulders were tight as he helped her sink down his length. Her toes curled on either side of his form, her thighs clenching the further inside he pushed. Harry took his time, leaving (Y/N) to feel every inch of him with every spread of her walls to let him in.

Once he bottomed out, the trimmed thatch of hair at his base pressing to her clit and his balls patting her ass, (Y/N) felt her insides pulse around him, her stomach tight in her middle. Harry's hands on her sides tightened, denting the soft flesh with his fingertips.

"Feel good, puppy?" he murmured with a strain, pausing as he let her adjust to him, "Full?"

"Uh-huh," she mindlessly answered, swearing she could feel him jump against her walls, "So full."

A moan bubbled up from his chest, low and rumbling. He trailed his lips from her mouth to the soft apple of her cheek, basking in her warmth as he reflected it back. His lips were a cool point of clarity against her skin, his nose skimming the height of her cheekbone. He planted his line of kisses until he landed at the space just before her ear.

"Ready for me to fuck you, puppy? Jus' like I promised?" he murmured into her ear, gently shifting his hips under hers as if to remind her he was still there.

The only response he seemed to need was the soft coo of his name that fell from her mouth, soft and wanting. As if there were any world that existed where she denied his offer.

Harry began to bounce her on his lap, his hands tight on her hips as her mouth dropped into a wordless gape. The thrusts he helped her make were short and shallow, lifting her only halfway off his cock before she was slammed down once more, her clit nudging his base with his tip hitting far walls she decided only existed for him. Her breathing came out in soft huffs every time her hips settled against his in soft slaps.

He attempted to smatter more kisses against her cheek, but was stopped short in his own pleasure. She could feel the soft gape of his lips against her skin, the length of his lashes grazing her cheek as he clamped them shut while falling into the feel of her.

Despite his early threat of leaving her to do the work all by herself, she barely had to do anything more than take it as he rocked his hips to meet the thrusts he was curating with her in his lap. She could feel her breasts moving with every thrust, peaks hardened as she attempted to draw herself closer to his chest and feel more of his chilled skin against her.

"Harry, I—" she choked out, her voice dying in her throat as she threw her head back after a particularly harsh thrust of his hips against hers.

"I know, petal, I know," he murmured, gaining some of his composure as he dropped his mouth to her throat. It was there that he could feel the thrum of her pulse, just under the soft skin he was accustomed to sinking his teeth into and leaving bruised and delicate in his wake. "I've got you, puppy. Gonna make me cum, you know that?"

Her thighs clenched at the thought of him cumming inside her, feeling that warmth leak through her system. Her nails dug deeper into his shoulders, drawing him that much closer to her.

"You want that? Want me to cum inside you? Make you mine again?"

He asked these things as if she could answer—as if she had half the mind to say anything other than a pathetic moan or a clench of her hands over his body. Of course she wanted that; of course she wanted to feel him cum inside her and stake his claim. She wanted anything he was willing to give.

"Tell me, puppy," Harry commanded, his gentle tone forgone for the moment as his grip on her hips harshened, "Not gonna let you cum with me if y'don't talk to me."

"I want that, I want that," she rushed out, unwilling to test his threat, "Want you to cum in me, H. Please."

"Good girl, pup. Always doing what I say, " he murmured, quietly praising her as if she couldn't hear him. "So, so, so good. Gonna make me cum so hard—shit."

One of his hands slipped from her hip, fitting between their bodies before he pressed his fingers to the bud of her clit. The first touch of his cold fingertips took her breath, stunting her lungs with her mouth dropping open in a soundless moan. Harry continued his relentless thrusting, the rhythm deep and consistent, adding to the twisting feeling of her clit being circled. Despite Harry being the one that had wanted this, dragging her to their bedroom in the first place, she doubted he would be the first to finish under these circumstances.

Tracing one of her hands up from the shelf of his shoulder, she laced her fingers through the curls on her back of his head. It took all her attention to keep herself from growing distracted once she curled her fingers through the waves in a firm grip. Tipping her head to the side, she urged him to the soft skin of her throat.

"H-Harry, please," she begged, hoping he would understand what she wanted without having to waste the time to spell it out.

A heavy moan fell from his lips when he saw what she was directing him towards. His cock jumped in her pussy, his tip pressing headily against the ridges of her walls, his hips directing a particularly harsh thrust against hers, splitting her open that much more.

"Y'want me to bite you, darling? Fuck, you're so sexy, puppy."

She didn't need to do anything more than pathetically breathe out a small uh-huh before she felt that faint scratch of his teeth over the delicate skin. A shudder traveled down her spine, the rhythm of Harry's thrusting not even skipping a beat.

"Hold onto me, puppy," Harry murmured just a breath before she felt the slice of his teeth sinking into her skin.

For the first time since pushing inside her, the rocking of his hips stuttered in their curated pace. Bottomed out, he rolled his hips into her with her clit still being prodded by his fingertips. The initial sting of his teeth lasted barely a heartbeat for (Y/N) before she was flooded with the euphoria Harry was already experiencing. Whatever it was that made his bite so dizzying was doing its job by melting her into his hold, turning her completely pliant and ready to be any and everything he wanted. The soft press of his lips around the bite was the cut of clarity she needed in that moment, otherwise she would have been lost in the sound of his low moan and the all encompassing hold he had on her.

(Y/N)'s head was elsewhere, focusing only on him as she felt her stomach tighten with every pull of blood he took from her. Unsure of where the strength came from, she managed to whimper in a breathless voice, "I'm-I'm gonna cum, Harry."

His response came in the form of a rumbling groan, his remaining hand on her hip snaking around to curl around her middle. She could feel the strength of his touch, complimented by a harsh thrust against her swollen pussy. His touch on her clit quickened, making her cry out once more in a shapeless moan.

It was all too much, bringing a layer of tears to her closed eyes just before everything came to a head. The twist in her stomach tightened until it unraveled into a shredded ribbon. Her walls pulsed around his cock, her wetness gushing around him with slick noises sounding from where he sunk into her. When those first waves hit, her nails digging into his shoulder with her head thrown back, she felt Harry unlatch from her neck just as his own high hit.

"Oh—fuck—puppy," he groaned, his movements lagging as soon as she felt the first wave of his cum hit inside her.

He dropped his forehead to rest on the shelf of her collarbone, his hips rocking against hers as best as he could manage the more he sunk into the pleasure of her taste in his mouth and her pussy around his cock. Her walls shuddered around him, her thighs closing in on his hips as her body clung to him. Every rope warmed her compared to his icy touch, prolonging her pleasure that much longer until she could feel him slowing down.

Coming down to earth in slow beats, Harry wrapped his arms around her, leaving (Y/N) to melt into his hold. Her eyes were shuttered closed, her heart beating hard against her ribcage. Looping her own arms around his neck, she buried her face in the mussed curls on the top of his head. Her breathing came in pants as the world reluctantly came into focus around her.

Harry seemed to recover first, stirring in her arms until he was pressing his lips against her collarbones and dragging them across her décolletage. He painted a delicate trail, never fully lifting his mouth from her skin as he moved up towards her throat. Pausing over the spot he had bitten from, he swiping his tongue carefully over the small wound he'd made, taking care to clean up the small mess he'd left behind and sealing her bite before he made his way towards her jaw. He skimmed over the soft line, his nose glancing off her skin just as carefully. Tipping her head up, (Y/N) met him halfway, tenderly placing her lips against his.

He was always terribly careful when kissing her after having bitten from her, never wanting to give her a taste of anything too human on his tongue. He allowed only a small press before he was pulling away and puckering against the corner of her mouth to the apple of her cheek and the tip of her nose.

"Are y'alright, petal?" he murmured against her skin, shuffling until he was laying flat on his back with her atop him. The shifting had his softening cock brushing against her sensitive walls, a small shudder skating down the knobs of her spine.

"I'm okay," she breathed, blinking her eyes open to see his own still shuttered—and they would stay that way until he was certain there was no more bloody red sclera for her to see. "Are you?"

His features softened into a warm smile, matching the slight flush that had been freshly added to his cheeks. "I am more than well, darling. Thank you for asking."

A plume of laughter fell from her lips as she settled against him. She knew she should probably get up and dress in something warm enough to cuddle with him, clean herself up before completely relaxing, but she couldn't find the motivation to move off of him. He was far too comfortable, his hold too rewarding to give up in favor of putting on a shirt before she was shivering in his hold.

Harry seemed to have other ideas as he shifted under her. "Let's clean you up, petal. Then, I can put you to sleep while I make dinner, yes?"

"No," she countered with a whine, clinging to him before he could move them from the haven of their bed, "Not yet."

She felt his laugh more than she heard it from where she laid against his chest. He tightened his hold around her as he dropped a smiling kiss to the crown of her head. "Not even if I come with you?" he bribed, hoping to coax her with the soft inflection on his voice and careful touch as he tightened his hold around her, "We can even nap afterwards, if you'd like. You'll feel better after changing, my love."

"You'll go with me?" she repeated, her voice decidedly smaller as she spoke against his skin. It didn't sound so bad if he cleaned up with her (that usually meant he did all the work anyway, picking out her clothes and washing her hair without her lifting a finger).

"Mhm," he hummed, collecting her against his chest as he started to shift on the mattress, moving stand with her still clinging to his form. "Can't leave my petal all alone after a game like that, can I?"

(Y/N) could only shake her head, playing along with him as he carried her into the bathroom.

She definitely liked his games a lot more than her own.

—————

first vamp h blurb in a while esp a fun one so I hope everyone likes it! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if yu have any ideas you wnat too share please send them in!

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tinfairies · 8 months

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Luffy Calling You Mommy

AFAB!Reader, sub!Luffy, handjobs, tit sucking, breast feeding kink, mommy kink

Luffy had been riled up for days, more so than usual. You knew exactly what he wanted, but you decided to wait for him to ask for it.

As nightfall approached and the rest of the crew got ready for bed, Luffy had made his way to you. Head bowed, almost as if he was embarrassed for what he wanted.

He never had to ask to be put to bed, you'd always just do it. The last few nights Luffy has slept terribly, he hasn't had you to lull him to sleep.

Luffy stands in front of you, eyes focused on the wooden deck as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Yes my sweet boy?" your voice teases and looks up at you through his lashes. Poor baby is nearly brought to tears as he opens his mouth.

"Mommy, I want you to put me to bed."

There it is. That's what you wanted.

"What's the magic word?" you give him a lopsided grin and he whines a little.

"Please?"

You take him by his hands and lead him to his quarters.

"Good boy, I like when you use your manners."

You spend the next few minutes getting him into his pajamas, walking him through brushing his teeth and then settle him into bed. Before you could pull the blanket over him he stops you.

"I want you under the covers with me." He pauses before remembering your rule. "Please."

How could you say no to that sweet face? You climb into bed next to him and begin petting his hair. His soft brown eyes stare up at you as if you hung the stars

"Do you want a story?" your hand moves from his curls to trace his cheek. His eyes flicker down to your shirt, cleavage on full display in your loose shirt.

"I want something different." He speaks without looking back up. A smirk stretches over your lips.

"Is that right, baby boy?" you move to pull his face up, he nods slightly as he moves with your body.

You maneuver to get Luffy in your lap, one arm pulled around him to hold his head, the other begins pulling your shirt down. He looks over your face, soft features comforting him immediately.

He dips his head to take nipple into his mouth, but you place a hand in his jaw. "What do we say?" his eyes meet yours again.

"Thank you mommy."

You release his face and allow him to begin suckling. His free hand goes to your other boob and starts kneading it.

Waves of warmth wash through your body as his teeth tug on the bud of your nipple.

The sloppy wet sounds of Luffy's sucking fill the cabin, and his drool starts dripping from his lips, staining your shirt.

Messy boy.

He's mewling softly, eyes fluttering under his lids, long lashes tickling your skin. The hand that had occupied itself with your other tit falls limp, and he pulls away from you a bit.

"I'm sorry mommy." You're confused for a moment, "Why baby?"

"I can't help it. Need you." He mumbles against your skin and his hand rubs over his crotch.

Oh, that's why he's sorry

"It's okay, you're just a sweet little thing. You can't control it. Do you want mommy to help you?" you smile softly, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. How cute, he got hard just from suckling.

"Please?" his eyes are glossy and he's in tears. "Of course sweetheart, that's what mommies are for."

You kiss his forehead and slide a hand down the front of his pants. You pet through the soft hair on his mound before taking ahold of his cock. It twitches in your hand, heavy and burning to the touch. So needy.

Slowly running your thumb over the tip and circling around his slit, then spreading the precum over his shaft, you begin to pump your fist around him.

Luffy let's out a soft whines and squeezes his eyes shut. He buries his face in your skin, and uses his tongue to feel his way to your nipple again. Latching on once more, he starts to nibble and suck.

You continue to slowly jerk him off, he keeps sighing and whimpering but never bucks his hips or asks for more. Such a good boy. His cock throbs on your hand and he let's out a loud moan against your tit.

Long ropes of cum spit from his cock, staining his pants and your hand. A messy boy indeed.

His suckling starts to slow again, and his breathing evens out. You look down at him and he's fast asleep, drool smeared over his cheeks, he looks so cute.

Luffy is about to get the best nights rest he's had in a while.

#one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece #op x reader #op smut #opla #opla smut #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #luffy smut #monkey d. luffy #Smut #tw mommy kink

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toruro · 5 months

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to be young and in love

pairing: seungcheol x f reader

tags: smut (18+), loss of virginity, implied corruption kink

a/n: IF YOU SAW THIS ON MY ANIME BLOG NO U DID NOT. it's not my fault cheol and atsumu are the same person

first time with new college boyfriend seungcheol ... you're a little nervous though :[ everyone'd laughed at the idea of two of you at first because why would casanova of the century wanna settle down and do little 'boba dates~' with some random girl who'd always have her head in a silly little book :/ they didn't see the way he looked at you with sparkles in his eyes and added an extra inch to his smile when he sees you ...

they don't see the mess you've got seungcheol in right now ... making out lazily on his lap this sunday afternoon and before you know you're grinding over his clothed cock .,, cheol's lips are all red and swollen because fuck, if you can't get enough of him ... black hair all over the place and eyes hazy as he fights off the urge to cum in his pants when you look at him with a glossy gaze ... "'cheol ... i wanna ... y'know," you breath out, voice low and squeaky 'cause cheol kisses you so well it's like he's sucked out all the air in your lungs.

n seungcheol's grinning ear to ear as your eyebrows furrow cutely—can't fuckin' help the way his cock bulges in his sweats, you're too sweet, asking him all shy and stuff ... drives him fuckin' crazy, yknow? "you wanna what baby? ... wanna fuck?" and cheol coos so gingerly you think you might melt right on the spot ... melt into his palms and let him swallow you whole 'cause before you know it he's strippin' you bare, shoving his pants down—fuck, his cock's so pretty with that angry red tip and pretty pearls of pre ... cheol's a gentleman through and through though, and he fingers you nice and long, fat fingers making you squirm on his lap as he sucks dark hickeys into your neck, your tits ..

n when he finally replaces his fingers for his cock, you're cryin' into his shoulders ... "'s not gonna fit," you sob and cheol can't help himself ... just shushing you gently as you sink down on his fat length, trying not to fuck you into the mattress when he sees your cheeks glossy with tears ... you just look so pretty when you cry. he'll make it up to you by eating you out cleaning you up this cuddled in a nice hot bath later ... for now, watching your teeth caught between your teeth, pretty tits heavin' up and down, seungcheol knows he's just gotta deeper c:

#svt smut #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #svt scenarios #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #seungcheol scenarios #scoups x reader #scoups smut #scoups imagines #💌 drabbles

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angelltheninth · 9 months

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Jing Yuan NSFW Alphabet

Pairing: Jing Yuan x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, aftercare, cunnilingus, marking, cum eating, toy use, masturbation, boob appreciation, kissing, cuddles, wall sex, blowjob, hallways sex, begging, quickie

A/N: This is so damn long lmao. Written for @hellolavendarsky.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Jing Yuan lets you have a few minutes to settle down before he pulls his cock out of you. His aftercare usually includes carrying you to the bath to help you wash yourself and wrapping you up in a really thick, soft and fluffy towel afterwards, making you feel safe and comfy. He loves to lay you on his chest, letting you be on top while you talk to him about the things you enjoyed.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On you his favorite is your stomach, he's a big enjoyer of that, no matter what your body type if. As long as there's enough of you to kiss, maybe nibble and lay his head on to rest he really couldn't care less. One of his favorite body parts are his shoulders. They're always like a place for his badges of honor, and by that he means all the bites and nail marks you leave on him while's fucking you into the surface you're having sex on.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Almost addicted to the taste of your cum. His doesn't really interest him that much unless it's inside your holes. But your cum needs to be on his tongue at least once every time he has sex with you. Drinking it down, lapping it up like he hasn't drank anything all day and making a show of licking it off his lips and swallowing it, humming at your taste right before he goes in for more.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He keeps sex toys in a secret box in his office. They're not always for him to use on you, sometimes he's feeling so pent up and he needs the release to function normally for the rest of the day. Thank god he's never been caught using them or that no one has found his stash cause he's been slowly adding onto it since he met you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Could find his way around your body with his eyes closed. There aren't many things he hasn't tried yet in his many years. He's hot, famous, a good person, very well respected so he's had many partners in his time. Not one to compare the experience levels unless it's necessary to do so, like if you're hesitant to try something and he's tried it before, he'll tell you all about it, how to be safe during it.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything that can give him a nice view of your tits or ass jiggling is great. If he's within boob grabbing or sucking reach that's even better. Reverse cowgirl is really good when he wants to feel and see your ass smacking against his abs but in this position he can't see your face so he would rather have you on your side, one leg over his shoulder and fucking his cock in you that way. He can see your face, touch your boobs and your ass all in one.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Keeps things pretty lighthearted even when he's playing up the more dominant aspect of his personality. Is serious only if he needs to reassure you of something or explain something to you. Otherwise he would much rather keep things cheerful and teasing for the both of you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Jing Yuan is extremely well groomed and keeps all his body hair neatly trimmed at all times. His hair is of course one of his selling points so he would be stupid not to maintain it. Actually has more hair-care products then you do and thought it was hilarious when you asked if you could borrow his shampoo. Sure you can, he likes smelling his scent on you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Intimacy is a big deal to him. Even when you were only having sex in his office and weren't official yet he always put a lot of emphasis on intimacy. Touching your face, kissing your fingers, keeping your bodies close so you can feel each other's orgasm everywhere, inside and out, kissing you until your lungs hurt, it was always, always a big part of sex for him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Masturbates in the morning and in the noon when he's at work. Doing it at work always brought a bit of a risk with it but when he's got to do it he's just got to do it. He's been caught by you before, with his pants fully down and your picture in his hand. Who else would he think about while handling his cock? Always tries to be quick about it, but is slow when it comes to making love.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Very much into ropes and leashes, specifically on you. He would love to treat you as his little pet, his bitch that's always, always in heat and ready to suck his cock the moment he feels him tug on your leash. It's also good for control, when you're riding him, no matter of you're facing him or not he can pull you back, control your pace. He can also tie you up, completely or partially, or if you want you can tie him up and only have him able to thrust into you and endure your mouth edging him until he can break free.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The hallway. Any kind of a hallway will do. When he fucks you in the hallway it's a dead give away that you're both so god damn horny for each other that you can't possibly wait to be in a proper enclosed space. Hell lift you up, pin you to the wall, hold you by your thighs and watch as his cock plummets in and out of your pussy, your panties held to the side by you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Usually when you're being shy about it. He needs to coax it out of you, he needs to make you say you want him or else he's not doing it. It's such a fun game of cat and mouse, you have no idea how much he likes it. When you can't say it and he denies you, when he's almost out the door and you yell at him to wait and throw your arms around him, your voice barely above a whisper as you beg, pretty please can he fuck you, can he make you come.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Really rough play. Slapping you and manhandling you from time to time is okay but he is very away of how strong he is. He would never want to risk making you bleed or seeing you in tears from the pain he's caused. Painplay is a huge no for him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Ideally he would like both at the same time. He likes giving a little more because that way he can hear your moans a little more clearly but having you struggling to talk while choking on his cock is a good sound too. Oral sex is almost always part of your love making session, weather before or after penetration for clean up.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Really depends on the amount of time you have. He likes taking it slow but whenever he does he prolongs the foreplay a little too long and ends up overstimulating your poor pussy before his cock even gets in. And he can lose control very easily when it comes to his speed, when you give him the green light he will fuck you so hard you're scared he's gonna break you. Never, but he can get you close, as long as you're enjoying it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

At least a few times a week, most often when you visit him in his office. There have been many meetings delayed by him because visited unexpectedly and instead of going over papers he ended up balls deep inside of you while you're bent over his desk. Good thing that he's the boss so no one can fire him for it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He wouldn't be nearly as experianced if he didn't take risks in his sex life. If there's something, anything that you would like to try with him please tell him. He'll try anything once, as long as he can ensure your safety during it. If it's something really risky then he'll make sure to talk to someone who's already tried it to make it the safest it can be.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

What you would call a stamina monster. The recovery period is also a bit shorter then most men, which he doesn't attribute to his stamina but rather having sex with such a hot woman with a great pussy. How could his cock stay soft when there are so many more orgasms to give you and more holes of yours to fill? But he can also use his fingers and mouth too, until he's hard again. Keep moaning, it helps a lot.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Owns a lot of toys and his collection only grows. For his pleasure he always keeps a cocksleeve in his office, which can vibrate and suck. Vibrators can be for you both, and bullet vibrators too. He really likes keeping a tiny one against your clit while you suck him off so you have constant stimulation.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It's one of his favorite types of foreplay. Teasing has also been a big part of him winning you over and making you fall in love with him. There's never a bad time to lean in and bite on your ear or give you a little slap on the ass. He's not nearly as easy to tease back, almost impossible, the only time you can do so is if he's drunk.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Depends on if you're at home or somewhere more public. He's pretty vocal either way but the volume will vary. You swear he was raised by lions because he's always growling and humming and grunting and sighing against you. It's hot when you're alone and he floods your pussy with hot cum, screaming, roaring his release into the heavens but when you could get caught you have to be kissing him almost all the time to stop all of his noises.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Insanely turned on when you call him 'sir' or 'boss'. Thankfully this only happens when you call him these things and not the people that actually work for him cause that would be really awkward. If you say these things as a joke he'll get really pouty because his brain associates them with sex, and therefore he will get an erection. Which is why you use these words when you have sex or when you want to have sex with him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

No surprise that he's is in very, very good shape. Muscles all over his body, a six pact that you can grind and come all over, legs for days and a cock to match. His cock is both long and girthy, which took a lot out of you the first time you had sex. He's pretty veiny as well but that ads a little bit to the texture and the pressure, not to mention you can always feel him pulsing nicely in your hand or mouth.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Jing Yuan has a pretty high sex drive, which is hard to match with most of his previous partners. You had some trouble too, at first but he's never put any pressure on you to match him. He can control himself just fine and if he's really pent up there's always his hand and the toy collection he has.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He never falls asleep right after sex, nor do you because he always has a bath ready for the two of you to properly relax in. Only after that is he ready to sleep and even then it takes him a while. He really likes to watch your eyes close, your body press against his and your breathing slow down. When he's sure you're in a deep sleep he can finally let himself sleep too.

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megalony · 12 days

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Too Stimulating

This is an Evan Buckley imagine, based on a few anon requests and is my first imagine writing neurodivergent reader. I hope you will all like it, feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread@musicistheway@avada-kedavra-bitch-187@luula@missdreamofendless@bradleybeachbabe@woderfulkawaii@amberpanda99@daggersquadphantom@marvel-and-chicago-fan@angryknightstatesmantrash@minjix@lyjen@kmc1989@itsmytimetoodream@noonenuts@hiireadstuff@ashie-babie@classyunknownlover@jayyeahthatsme@sp1ritssz@dumb-fawkin-bitch@oliverstarksbae@gimatida@heart-35@supernaturalstilinski@stefansalvatoresgf@kyky9103@wutheringhearts2275@gay4hotmilfs@itshamleth@chaoticnosleepinfluencer@gs29@wh0reforsmutstuff@mel-vaz@natashamea18@chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena@targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19@marvelmenarebeautiful@gillybear17 @zoeybennett

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: When Buck finds his girlfriend in the middle of a car crash, he helps her through a meltdown when everything gets too overwhelming. (autistic reader)

Enjoy.

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"Can't sleep?"

Evan didn't bother to open his eyes. He inched himself closer until his chest was almost touching (Y/n)'s back. His arm was already draped loosely around her waist with his hand on her lower chest and his thumb dragging up and down her bare skin.

He knew drawing patterns or doing something as simple as gliding his thumb across (Y/n)'s skin in a repetitive manner could help calm her down at night. He thought it would have done the opposite at first, that it would have given (Y/n) something to focus on and keep her awake. But instead, the touch calmed her down and stopped her mind from hyper-focusing on different things.

She had much more sensitive hearing than Evan. (Y/n) could hear the lightest drizzle of rain tapping on the bedroom window. She could hear the boiler clicking on during the night or the A/C buzzing in the background. Little noises stole her attention and kept her awake.

But Evan couldn't hear anything tonight, he couldn't hear any little sound that might be keeping (Y/n) awake. Meaning it was something else gnawing at her mind, preventing her from shutting down.

"Sorry," (Y/n) muttered into the pillow while she moved her hand down to hold Evan's wrist that was looped over her waist.

"Why, what's up, baby?"

Evan kissed the back of (Y/n)'s head and moved to glide his hand up and down her chest rather than just his thumb.

It was normal for Evan to feel (Y/n) fidgeting during the night. He could tell precisely when she fell asleep- if she fell asleep before him- because she suddenly went still. While she was awake, Evan felt her toes curling and her foot twitching back and forth in bed. It was like she had nervous tension and her muscles were tightening. (Y/n) didn't know she was doing it most of the time, it was either or foot or her leg that started to move and she had to always be moving. Constantly.

She would toss and turn to get comfy, sometimes Evan realised she was humming and she didn't know it. Or she had one hand beneath the pillow and started tapping the headboard.

"Don't know," (Y/n) didn't know what the problem was, she just couldn't seem to get settled.

"Got an idea?"

She could hear the gruff tone to Evan's voice that was laced with sleep and it made her stomach flutter with adrenaline. He knew her like the back of his hand. And when (Y/n) didn't answer, she felt Evan chuckle into her hair and she all but whimpered when his hand left her skin.

He reached out and skimmed his fingers along the edge of the bedside table until he found (Y/n)'s phone. He murmured "Make a note," into her hair and held her phone out to her.

They both knew that if (Y/n) put the lamp on and tried to write down her idea, she wouldn't be happy in the morning. She would want to stay awake right now and write out a more detailed plan of whatever idea she had gotten, whether it was for something to create or something to write. And if she made a rough, sketchy note in a notebook and realised in the morning that it looked horrid and rushed, (Y/n) would either stop using the notebook altogether or rip the page out.

Whereas if she jotted down the note in her phone, it wouldn't look sketchy or scruffy and typos didn't matter in a little word document.

Evan wasn't bothered by the dim light of her phone; after ten o'clock at night, her phone automatically went on night mode where the brightness turned down and the colour changed to a damp shade of yellow. The background colour was yellow to try and ease her mind and help her settle. (Y/n) wasn't sure if it worked or not but she was too used to it now to dare turn it off.

When the brightness suddenly disappeared, Evan presumed (Y/n) had finished whatever note she had written down, but he knew the idea would still be floating around in her head.

"Alright baby, spin round for me."

"Hm?"

A squeak bubbled past (Y/n)'s lips when Evan hooked his arm around her waist and rolled her over while he inched backwards. He turned her until she was laid on her left side so she was facing him and he pressed a wet kiss to her temple.

"Doodle, send us both to sleep, baby." Evan spoke against her temple and dragged his hand up and down her back. He made sure there was an air of space between them so (Y/n) could start to doodle.

Evan had a variety of tattoos and (Y/n) loved each and every one of them, but what she loved even more was to trace them with her fingertips. She loved going over the lines like she was drawing them herself. It grounded her and gave her something to focus on and a lot of the time, it took so much of (Y/n)'s attention that she forgot where she was or what she was doing. And at night, it soothed (Y/n) enough for her to drift off to sleep.

When she was having a meltdown, tracing his tattoos helped, especially the circular band around his right forearm. (Y/n) would trace and draw that line thousands of times to focus and ground herself back to reality.

Evan found himself smiling when (Y/n) shimmied down until her head was tucked beneath his chin and her lips merged with his collar bone. He continued to glide his hand up and down her back while he felt (Y/n)'s fingertip trace the line of cursive writing just beneath his collar bone near his shoulder.

Her eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to see the ink littering Evan's skin and she was almost annoyed that she couldn't properly see the little bird outlined on his other shoulder. She liked tracing that one, but Evan was laid on his right shoulder.

(Y/n) settled for the writing, it was much easier to focus on and if she felt like she didn't draw the cursive loops just right, she restarted and began again.

Evan could still feel (Y/n)'s feet tapping, but it was different this time. The muscle in the back of her thigh wasn't tightening and twitching like a wild rabbit. Her foot wasn't bashing down into the mattress and giving him a drumbeat coursing through his blood. It was just her toes continuously curling back and forth while her foot glided softly along the mattress.

It was such a soft, lulling movement that Evan had to focus to actually feel that she was still moving, and that was a good sign.

The feeling of (Y/n)'s lips on his skin made Evan shiver and the pad of her finger causing goosebumps and pins and needles in his skin made Evan smile against the top of her head.

"G'night, baby."

***

I want to go home! I want to get out the car! I want Evan!

(Y/n) could feel herself bubbling up in her seat like a pot on a stove about to boil over. There was a scream clawing its way up her chest, ready to errupt the moment one more thing set her off. Every part of her began to shake and her head bowed down with her chin tucked deep into her chest to try and see if it would make her feel any better or feel any sense of control.

One minute (Y/n) was on her way home from work and the next, she was in a crash. A speeding car flew past (Y/n)'s car in the outside lane and either couldn't break in time or wasn't paying enough attention. They crashed into another car and there wasn't enough time or space for (Y/n) to break before she collided with them.

(Y/n), along with four other cars, collided when they all tried to break and swerve out the way. And (Y/n) was relieved other people were around to call for help. She had never had to call 911 before and she knew she wouldn't be able to calm herself down enough to have a conversation that wasn't her screaming down the line.

She wanted to get out the car. She wanted to get out and leave and find someone that could help her, but she knew the rules. She remembered Evan going through what she should do if she was ever hurt in a crash.

If she was injured, it was best to stay in the car and wait for help unless the car was on fire or the situation was a dire emergency.

She was hurt.

Her chest hurt, she was sure a few ribs were fractured or broken. Her left knee has bashed into the gearbox and the dashboard had crumpled in the collision. It would take a lot of effort to wrangle her leg away from where it was boxed in and she didn't want to do that alone.

Something didn't feel right with her left wrist either but whenever (Y/n) looked down at it, she gagged and looked away. It was twice the size it should be, felt as hard as a car tyre overfilled with air and her fingers were trembling.

Her body was shaking, her nerves were going haywire and the adrenaline made it hard to focus on one thing in particular.

Heat prickled along the back of (Y/n)'s neck and flooded her skin up to her wrists. Blood didn't seem to want to circulate through to her hands that were numb and on fire from panic. When she started to get anxious, she lost the feeling in her hands and they went cold and numb, blood went to the vital organs and forgot about her hands and feet.

Coiling her arms up to her chest, (Y/n) pressed her palms forcefully against the sides of her neck and scratched her nails into the skin at the base of her head. Despite the agony that crackled through her wrist, (Y/n) continued to dig her nails into her skin and she tilted her head forward, begging herself not to scream or act out.

She had to wait for help. She had to wait. She didn't want to wait. She wanted out.

Where would she go? She was on a bridge, a motorway flooded with cars that were going to be backed up for miles. There was nowhere for (Y/n) to escape to and she wasn't sure how far she would get. She just wanted to go home and be somewhere safe. She would consider Maddie's house a safe place right now. She just wanted to be somewhere familiar with someone she was comfortable with.

But she was alone, trapped, hurt, and extremely overwhelmed.

She could smell the petrol, oil and burnt embers floating through the air, rolling into the car along with smoke that had been building up gradually since the moment they all crashed. And (Y/n) could feel her body trembling back and forth in the seat that felt cold against her unusually heated skin.

(Y/n) could feel each ragged breath that bubbled past her lips. Her throat was aching, her chest was rising and falling rapidly and her heart was beating wildly out of her chest.

When she realised she was focusing and counting each breath, her eyes snapped closed and her arms pinned over her ears. But that just made it worse. She could now hear each breath she took as if her ears had popped the wrong way and she had been submerged underwater.

A horrid, choking scream flew past (Y/n)'s lips before she dropped her arms and slammed her body back into the chair. Her head hit the headrest and bounced back with such force that it seemed to shake her brain and her eyes lost focus for a second or two.

Reaching her right hand out, (Y/n) curled her fingers into a fist and slammed her knuckles against the roof, but it didn't make an impact. All it did was make a dent in the padded roof and it seemed to infuriate (Y/n) even more.

Her hand moved down slightly and she bashed her fist into the top of the door, earning a successful jolt that shivered all the way down to her elbow and up to her shoulder. The top of the door was made of metal. Another scream vibrated past her lips along with a howling sob as tears fell down her face like acid rain and her hand battered against the door as fast and harshly as she could.

Why couldn't everyone else just be quiet?

Why did they have to scream? Why did they have to stomp their feet against the concrete like ogres breaking through the ground? Why was someone's car horn blaring out, why hadn't they turned it off already? Was the sirens she heard the sound of an ambulance, the sound of a fire truck or the noise a police car made?

Everyone needed to be quiet so (Y/n) could focus. She was going to get herself out this car if everyone continued to overwhelm her.

It was like rage bubbling up inside of her, desperate to be let out in any way she could. It was worse than when the tv froze and she couldn't finish watching a movie she was desperate to see. This was worse than being in a stranger's home and wanting to go back to her safe space. This was so much worse than being in a crowded restaurant with too many people and no means of escape.

This was worse than just a simple pain that (Y/n) couldn't control or deflect. She couldn't take all the pain away by hurting herself in another area. She couldn't smash her forehead against the wall or chomp down on her hand or punch the wardrobe and deflect the agony she felt.

Deflecting the pain didn't stop all the noises or the horrid smells or take her out of the car that felt like she was stuffed into a cramped little box she couldn't escape from.

Deflecting did nothing to take her out of this situation and it didn't alert anyone that she needed help. But it gave (Y/n) something to do, something to focus on and a sense of pain that showed herself she had some sense of control and the pain in her mind and deep within her bones was now exuded somewhere else in her body.

"I want out!"

***

"Buck, get me the jaws!"

"Copy." Evan hollered back while he pushed his helmet further back on his head and turned around. He placed his hand on the young man's shoulder who was standing in front of him and silently pointed him towards Hen who would take him to the paramedics waiting on standby.

Evan turned away from the now empty car and once the driver was safely with Hen, he moved in the direction of the truck that was parked on the hard shoulder. He didn't get more than three feet before he noticed something familiar.

(Y/n)'s car. That was her car; her number plate. She was involved in this mess.

His hands reached out and clamped down on Chimney's shoulders before the medic had chance to turn in the other direction or take another breath. "Get Cap the jaws." Evan hissed in his ear and gave him a nudge towards the truck before he weaved around him and bolted.

He couldn't help Bobby get someone out of the pick up truck that was wedged into the middle railing. He had to go and get his girlfriend out.

Evan could see the car jolting to one side before he got near it. (Y/n) was moving about inside, she was definitely doing something. He rounded the side of the car and planted his left hand down on the roof so he could lean over and look through the window.

As quickly as anything, Evan curled his hand around the door handle and wrenched the door open. He stumbled backwards when (Y/n) leaned along with the door she had just been pummelling her fist into.

"Baby- baby, it's me." He tore off his gloves and tossed them down on the floor while he crouched down beside the car.

He cringed, bracing his hands on either side of the door when (Y/n) screamed. It wasn't the kind of screaming Evan was used to. She didn't usually scream so raw and violently like that even when he witnessed her having a meltdown. He hadn't seen this kind of extreme meltdown in a while.

His eyes managed to catch a glimpse of (Y/n)'s right hand that had been smashing into the door before he opened it. Her knuckles were starting to swell. They were split open, splattered with dried and fresh blood and her whole hand was shaking.

"Baby-"

Whatever he was about to say got cut off by another scream. This time, it was a deeper, more guttural scream before (Y/n) slammed her head forward into the steering wheel.

Evan jolted back on the heel of his boots as he felt his stomach tightening and his lips clamped together.

She hadn't done that in a while.

When she did it a second time, Evan leaned over with his left hand on the back of her chair. He pressed the back of his right hand against the steering wheel and braced himself, waiting for her to do it again. He could see the surprise blister across her face when she smashed her head forward and collided with his palm instead.

Her eyes were closed. She hadn't expected Evan to do that. He'd done it before; when she started to hit the wall and bash her temple into the wall, Evan put his hand in the way. He would much rather have (Y/n) let out her frustrations this way where she caused less pain and harm to herself.

Evan boxed and trained at the gym and in his line of work, a sore hand and a few bruised knuckles was nothing to him.

After a few seconds ticked by, Evan dared to rest his other hand on her shoulder and see if she would be alright with his touch or not. She didn't shy away and she didn't scream; he took that as a good sign.

"Baby, can I get you out the car, please? I'll see if you're hurt, then I can get you out of here."

He kept his hand on the steering wheel as a precaution but he was fairly sure (Y/n) had stopped hitting his hand now. She was breathing so harshly he worried her heart was going to give out, it sounded like she had burst a lung. Her lips were dry and chapped, her throat was tense and raw and her chest was violently heaving to try and catch back her lost oxygen.

Evan gently reached out for her hands and uncurled them from the steering wheel so he could rest them on his thighs and take a look.

Her right hand was battered, but he was sure she hadn't damaged or broken her knuckles. Her left hand, however, looked like her wrist had been fractured.

He glided his fingertips slowly up her arms, taking his time so he didn't overwhelm her. When he tried to touch and assess her chest, she whimpered and pushed back in the seat. And when he trailed his hands down her legs, he realised why she was so distraught. Her left leg was wedged under the steering wheel where the bonnet had crumpled down on her leg.

"Let's get you sorted out." He trailed his hands over to her left leg and tried to assess whether she had busted up heer knee or broken any bones.

He didn't want to leave (Y/n) and he didn't want to ask someone to bring him a pair of jaws to cut through the bonnet. (Y/n) was distressed enough. He slammed his hand up into the bonnet to try and dent it enough to wiggle (Y/n)'s leg free. And he reached down to shuffle her chair back to see if that would make a difference.

If he had a few more seconds, just another minute, and Evan would have loosened the bonnet enough to get her leg free without any pain or aggravation.

A blaring siren caught them both off guard.

Evan cringed; he recognised the sound. It was a police car turning up and knowing their luck, it might even be Athena. But the noise was distinct and loud and it cut right through them both.

(Y/n)'s ears were finely tuned and direct, high pitch noises physically hurt her. The siren was no exception. As soon as it started to blare, (Y/n) jumped back in her seat and screamed.

Evan wasn't sure whether she meant to drag and lift her leg up or whether it was out of instinct. Either way, (Y/n)'s upper thigh cut against the broken plastic and chunks of metal in the bonnet and her leg was prized free. Blood splattered down her thigh but she didn't care. She could barely feel the new sensation over the ringing in her ears and the pain that was pulsing through every inch of her skin.

Terror ransacked (Y/n)'s body and she flung herself to the right, scrambling onto her hands and knees on the floor. Partially landing on Evan's thigh, sending him down on his backside, not that he cared.

She wasn't sure where she was trying to go. All (Y/n) knew was that she needed to get out of that car and get away from all the noises, but being out in the open only made it worse.

She could hear raised voices; people directing others away from the cars, telling them where the paramedics were. A strong voice cutting through the air asking for assistance. Sirens wailing in three different tones from three different vehicles. Crying. Harsh breathing. Loud footsteps made with the same heels as Evan's work boots.

Five feet away from the car left (Y/n) hobbling in the middle of the road and she didn't know which direction to go or whereabouts she needed to move to. Every angle was blocked. There was no escape. She couldn't leave. She wasn't safe.

Her weight dropped down until she was knelt on the tarmac that cut through her knees like blistering hot coals digging into her skin. The heel of her shoes dug into her bum and her stomach clenched as she coiled over on herself.

Her body began to rock back and forth while her chin smashed down into her chest and her hands smothered her face. Every breath fanned against her palms and made her lips hot and sweaty like they were melting and it made (Y/n) scream.

"Shh, alright baby, it's okay." As quick as anything, Evan shed his jacket and scrambled over towards (Y/n). He stayed on his knees in front of her and reached his arms out for her.

He pinned his elbows into her sides, pressed their knees together and curled his palms over her ears. He tucked his chest into his thighs and merged their temples together so she could see him and hear his voice over the loudness of the rest of the world.

"You're okay. You're with me, baby girl and you're safe. Just focus on me, nothing else."

He repeated those words over and over like a mantra until his voice drowned out everything else and (Y/n) stopped screaming. He felt her rock back and forth but with him knelt in front of her, he couldn't move along with her without accidentally headbutting her in the process.

So he slowly let go of her and wrapped an arm around her waist so he could shimmy her over to him.

(Y/n) stayed loose and moveable, allowing Evan to pull her onto his lap so her back was pressed into his chest.

"Help." Was the only word (Y/n) could manage and she squeezed Evan's wrists and tugged until he realised what she wanted. She didn't have to voice it for Evan to understand; it was one of the things she loved about him.

She could feel his lips smothering the top of her head and his hands went straight back to covering her ears. He breathed into her hair and started to hum while his elbows dug into her sides and he felt (Y/n) reach up to keep hold of his wrists. She was trying to ground herself to him. Sitting on his lap wasn't enough, she had to hold onto him to know he was still here, keeping her safe.

Her breathing started to become deeper rather than shallow or breathless screams.

She snapped her eyes closed and pushed back into Evan's chest so she didn't slide off his lap as he began rocking them back and forth. It was as if they were sat together in a rocking chair in the middle of the blocked-off road.

"There we go, that's my girl, hm? You're okay, you're safe."

Evan continued to rock back and forth. He'd never done anything like this before he met (Y/n), but whenever she shut down like this, she dropped to the floor. She would curl up as small as she could or sit or kneel on the floor. Sometimes she looked like she was praising the carpet with how she dragged her hands along it, but he knew she had to recalibrate herself.

Now, if ever she went down to the floor, Evan would kneel down with her. He would hold her in bed and start to sway and rock back and forth. He would do all of her coping mechanisms with her so she wasn't alone and knew he was trying to help.

"Buck… how are we doing over here?" Eddie looked over at him with a mixture of perplexity and a hint of recognition in his eyes. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but it was a somewhat familiar sight.

He didn't get too close, he could see Evan had a handle on this situation and he didn't want to get involved and make things worse or upset whoever Evan was cradling in his arms.

"Do you need the ambulance?" He pointed behind him to the 118 ambulance that Chimney had backed up. There weren't that many casualties here and dispatch had sent quite a few ambulances to the scene just to be on the safe side.

"Yeah I- I need it but you have to turn the lights off."

"What?"

"The lights are way too stimulating, it will overwhelm her. Can you turn them off, please?"

Evan had seen (Y/n) drive when ambulances had been passing. The sirens made her flinch and start to stim when she pulled over and she had to close her eyes when the lights passed.

The ambulance had flashing blue and moonlight white lights blinking on and off continuously and someone had left the lights flashing on the ambulance. They were far too stimulating and if (Y/n) looked over there she would immediately close her eyes and freeze up.

Some movies were too bright for (Y/n) to watch, especially children's films that had a blast of rainbow colours glittering the screen. Movies like those gave (Y/n) headaches and blinding lights sent her into a sensory overload. Some people could handle those sort of stimulants, some people were classed as hyposensitive where they enjoyed loud noises and bright lights and lots of people and rides and thrills.

(Y/n) was hypersensitive, she couldn't handle the noises or the lights or too many people overwhelming her or crowding round and getting in her face.

"I'll turn them off, do you need the gurney bringing out?"

"No, I'll bring her over."

Eddie sprinted off into a jog to turn the lights off while Evan dared to let go of (Y/n)'s ears and he moved his hands down her sides to hold her hips. She kept hold of his wrists and leaned her head back on his shoulder while he continued to rock them back and forth.

"Baby, we're gonna go in the ambulance and go to the emergency room, alright? I'm not gonna leave you at any point, I promise. You'll be safe with me. Can I get you up?"

The moment (Y/n) nodded, Evan gave her hips a squeeze and pulled her up with him while he slowly pushed up to his feet. He waited for (Y/n) to make the first move, to show him whether she was okay to walk ahead to the ambulance. Or whether she was in too much pain or too overwhelmed to walk.

When she turned in his arms and smothered her face in his chest, Evan could feel her panting breaths and the tremble that overtook her body. She didn't want to walk. She didn't want to move. If they stayed still for a few more seconds, Evan just knew (Y/n) would drop down to the floor again because she wasn't settled or calm or okay at all.

"Alright baby, it's alright." His hands moved to the back of her thighs and he hoisted her up in one fell swoop. He hooked her legs around his torso and moved one hand to her upper back to keep her steady against him.

(Y/n) tucked her face into Evan's neck so tightly she could barely breathe and she began kissing his neck and making popping sounds against his skin. It was an unusual stim that Evan felt interested in because he somehow liked the sensation against his neck.

He smoothed his hand up and down her back while he made a beeline for the ambulance where the lights had finally been turned off.

Once he climbed up into the ambulance, Evan carefully sat (Y/n) down on the gurney. He had a gut feeling she wouldn't lay down on it and he was right. She perched on the side of the gurney with her legs hanging over the edge and her hands clinging to the side so she didn't fall off.

She began to rock back and forth while Evan sat down on the gurney next to her and Eddie sat in front of them.

"Baby, this is Eddie, can he take a look at you?"

Eddie waited patiently until (Y/n) gave a cut nod and he held out a stethoscope so she knew what he was going to do. She stopped rocking and sat up straight. He noticed her eyes focused on his chin and he wondered whether she was staring at his jacket; she was clearly focusing on something so she didn't have to look him in the eye.

He leaned over and pressed the stethoscope to her chest and then to her back to listen to her breathing.

"Can I check your blood pressure?"

Her lips rolled together but she nodded and held out her right arm since her left wrist was swollen and shaking.

Eddie smiled softly when (Y/n) closed her eyes and leaned her head onto Evan's shoulder while Eddie slipped the cuff up her arm so it was near her shoulder. He started to squeeze the air and watched the band tighten around her arm, but his eyes kept glancing down to her hand.

She stimmed in a similar way to Chris. Eddie could see (Y/n)'s thumbs on both hands were pressed against the back of her index finger right near her knuckle. And her index fingers were curled into her palm while the rest of her fingers were left out straight. He knew it was a sensation she must feel calming but whenever Chris used to stim, he would curl his fingers in rather strange ways that would hurt anyone else. But Chris was used to it in the way he figured (Y/n) must be too.

"Do you want me to assess your leg, or you can wait for a nurse if you want." Eddie didn't want to push any boundaries.

He knew a little of (Y/n) from what Evan had told him and Eddie didn't want overwhelm her or make her feel uneasy. If she didn't want him to try and patch her up at all, he would gladly sit and hand her over to a nurse when they got to the hospital.

"Please." If Evan trusted Eddie, then (Y/n) would rather have him help her than a stranger at the hospital.

A wave of relief washed through Evan when he heard (Y/n) quietly click her tongue against the roof of her mouth. That was a stim he recognised. That was one of her usual stims that she did hundreds of times throughout the day. If (Y/n) was doing that, it meant she was starting to settle and calm down.

(Y/n) stayed as still as she could manage, despite her right foot tapping against the metal bar on the bottom of the gurney.

Her eyes watched with intrigue as Eddie got out a small pair of scissors and carefully cut through her leggings so he could rip the material and see the extent of her wound.

It wasn't too deep. A vertical gash right in the centre of her thigh that was oozing and trickling blood down across her knee and squelching beneath her on the gurney. (Y/n) sucked in a deep breath and made a quiet noise when Eddie poured some saline over the wound and started to swab and clear away the blood.

His touch was delicate and precise and he didn't even look up at her as he worked, he kept his eyes focused on her leg so (Y/n) didn't have to avoid eye contact with him. She reached out and started to draw aimless patterns on Evan's thigh to distract herself while Eddie put suture strips across the wound to tape it together. It wasn't deep enough for proper stitches so little medical tapes were enough. And he stuck a large rectangle plaster patch on her thigh to keep it clean.

"You're all done… let's get you inside, you'll need an X-ray and probably some bloods taken."

When Evan got up, he waited for (Y/n) so he knew whether to walk in front of her or behind her. She curled her right hand around Evan's bicep and tucked her face into his arm and when she closed her eyes as they got out the ambulance, Evan smiled. He moved his right hand to cup the back of her head and smothered his lips into her hair.

He felt Eddie hovering beside them and the three of them headed into the emergency room and followed a nurse who beckoned them over when she noticed the uniform.

The moment they got into the empty cubicle, (Y/n) seized up. Her body went stiff beside Evan and she clung to him tighter until she was practically meshing her face into his arm. She didn't want to sit down. She didn't want to be in here. She wanted to go home.

Two nurses walked into the room with them and closed the door to give them some privacy.

When one of them began to ask questions, (Y/n)'s name and date of birth and all her details, Evan answered. Whenever (Y/n) went to the doctors, she never usually said what was wrong or answered them. Whoever went with her to her appointments usually spoke for her and this was no exception. Evan didn't mind. He would always speak for her when she couldn't.

"If you'd like to sit down, I'll take a look at your wrist."

"No." (Y/n) shrunk back into Evan's side when the nurse tried to approach her. But when she looked to the left, she realised Eddie was still in the room. He was leant up against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. "I- please?" She gingerly moved her damaged wrist in Eddie's direction until he understood what she was asking.

She would rather have Eddie help her than someone else. He didn't ask questions. He didn't pester her. He didn't force her to maintain eye contact. He asked and waited before he assessed her and his touch was gentle. Evan trusted him, so (Y/n) would trust him.

The soft smile on Eddie's face told (Y/n) he wasn't annoyed at her request and when the nurse moved out the way, Eddie walked over to her. He didn't ask or move her towards the bed. He simply stood at her side and held her hand in his left hand so his right hand could press down her hand and over her wrist.

"I'd say it's fractured an inch below the wrist. She needs an X-ray, and if she needs a cast, you need to note in her file that she needs a removeable cast. Do not give her a pot cast."

The stern, authoritative look on Eddie's face told the nurse not to argue with him. He knew either way, whether (Y/n)'s wrist was broken or fractured, she would need a cast. And he knew a pot would drive her inside and send her into a meltdown. She wouldn't be able to take a pot cast off or move her hand or bend her wrist.

But if she had a strapped, removeable cast, they came with metal rods on either side so it would keep her wrist and arm in place. And she could take it off for an hour or so each day to get a wash or stim or get dressed. And she would be able to stim better with a foam cast.

"We'll go and get an X-ray booked, and I'll find a kit so you can take her bloods."

Surprise flooded Evan's face as he looked between (Y/n) and Eddie. The nurse was handing this over to Eddie. Clearly they could see (Y/n) wasn't going to cooperate for anyone else.

"I uh, I guess you'll have to stay with us for a while." Evan's smile was sympathetic. Bobby would allow Evan to have the rest of the day off, but he would want the team to get back in the truck and head back to the station as they were all still on shift. But Eddie had seemingly been hijacked for a while longer.

He could see in Eddie's smile that he didn't mind. He would rather stay here and make sure they were both alright than go back on shift worrying about them. And if he could be of any help to (Y/n) he would gladly stick around.

"I guess so."

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #eddie diaz #bobby nash

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