#it might have been crack but it's also genius | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

earthtooz · 2 months

Text

cw: arranged marriage, fluff, neglect at the beginning, ratio falling hard, pining, ratio being jealous of aventurine, unedited bc i wrote this with my heart not my brain

my brain has been thinking about an arranged marriage fic with dr. ratio...

he isn't kind to you at first, less than happy to share a life with a mere acquaintance. he's heard about you before in passing, noting your achievements with a grain of salt because nothing about you particularly mattered to him, irrelevant against the mass of scrolls and books he needs to read.

you don't really disturb his normal routine too much. you move in to his estate with a fair share of your belongings, but none of them crowd his house too much. you have your own room, pristine guest room unearthed by your artistic touch.

aside from dinners, you don't get to see each other too much. he starts his mornings early, getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise and start his day with a hearty meal. you wake up later, partaking in a slow morning, and if you glanced out the window, you might be able to see your husband running laps around the expanse of his gardens.

you admire his dedication and routine, it's fascinating to live beside a genius. everyday, the chest table that sits in the living room changes, the black and white pieces never remaining where you last recalled. the size of his blackboard is impressive, and yet too small to fit all of the formulas his brain remembers, hands effortlessly dancing along the surface to scratch number after number.

a frequent order of his estate is chalk. a new pile is delivered every three days, and he goes through them without fail every time.

during dinner, he tries to spare some conversation with you. you don't tell him too much about your day, not wanting to bore him with your menial chores. he's only half-listening either way, so you'll feign understanding about his work when he explains what he's up to.

ratio is not an attentive husband, but he doesn't mistreat you, either. he allows you to spend his assets without too much care, doesn't police your everyday tasks, and also doesn't bat an eye at other men or women. his pursuit of intelligence is important, and your wellbeing would not come in between that.

your monotonous, distant routine changes one autumn dusk. you're perched in the front yard with an easel set up before you, the sky in front of you now a blend of pink-purple hues. he returns home earlier than you expected, carriage stopping at the front of his estate, and he witnesses you in your tranquil state.

the paint strokes on the canvas before you are skilled, and show years of dedication to the craft. you're so invested in the piece before you, that you don't even hear him approaching until he calls your name.

"the night turns colder with each minute. shouldn't you come inside before you fall ill?" the scholar greets, and you're snapped out of your creative reverie, looking over at him.

"oh, i had not realised. let me clean up here, first." you take your canvas off the easel, but to your surprise, your spouse kneels down to organise your oil paints back into their box.

"make haste, then," he urges.

during dinner, he can't help but be curious over your hobby, the stubborn splotches of paint clinging to your hands visible to him. that night, you engage in uninterrupted conversation, and discover that he's an artist himself- a sculptor. it calms him, and all the statues reside in a removed room, adjacent to his study.

despite your years of matrimony, you had never once dared enter his study, but the design is so fittingly him. it is organised (well, as organised a genius can be), with shelves and shelves filled with books, discarded scrolls lay around the room, but even then, his taste for greco-roman aesthetics are seen. roman dorics act like stands for little plants, and his many certificates are displayed, along with other achievements.

(his study is overwhelmingly filled with them. though you knew of the merit of the man you were arranged to be married to, you had never known just how expansive the list is. perhaps, that only made him more intimidating to you, standing beside a genius does not feel so light to say anymore.)

he shows you his sculptures, and though many of them are... self portraits... the likeness is disgustingly accurate. it was as if he had casted himself in plaster and displayed it proudly. you wonder how long he must have stared in the mirror to perfect their appearance.

but, there are also various other formidable statues. some of people you recognise. you compliment his skill and don't get to see the blush that spreads along his cheeks.

it seems that you've chipped a way into his heart, because between brushstrokes and chiselled marble, he falls in love with you.

ratio knows he didn't start off being the best husband, but he tries to now, and begins by being present. asks you to dine together where possible, listens when you're talking about your day, and the two of you can be seen venturing downtown together; an unbelievable sight for those who believed that ratio was romantically inept.

perhaps, an even more unbelievable sight, was the soft smile on his face that glanced at you very adoringly, and how you remained unaware of his affections.

and, maybe a jealous veritas ratio is just as unbelievable.

he is practically glaring daggers at the side of a certain blond's head. ratio has never been fond of the scheming businessman, aventurine, and is even less so of the fact that you seem so close to him, more than you are with your own husband. you're speaking with him like how one would with old friends, a peaceful visit to the markets turned sour by his presence.

when you finally, finally, finally, bid farewell to aventurine, who gave ratio a look that signified he was up to no good, your husband held your hand in his gloved one with an unforgiving grip. his mood is dampened for the remainder of the day, and is only made better when you enquire about his sudden glumness, visiting his office to see if he was alright.

you leave him with a kiss on the crown of his head, and a whisper of 'goodnight', before retreating to your chambers, and the only thought that circulates in his head for the rest of the night is you, and how he's going to sweep you off your feet.

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ earf's ideas that i'll never write #earthtooz: honkai star rail #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff #dr. ratio x reader

3K notes · View notes

signedkoko · 5 months

Note

Heyo! I return!!!!

Could I get a mammon, blitzø and alastor (separate) with a wife reader who’s really oblivious and ditzy? Sorta like a bimbo?

🦷 anon! <33333

Alastor | Blitzo | Mammon [Romantic]

In which their partner is extremely oblivious and ditzy.

Well, that's what he was here for, isn't it?

To make it look like you know what you're doing, to be the reason or you little 'show'

According to the public eye, if you're his partner then theres no way it's not a character, Alastor would NEVER date a clutz, let alone have the patience for one

Alastor found these little whispers amusing

Everyone thought they had some idea of what he was, but they were always throwing darts at the wrong board

All the better for him, he gets the joy of you making every day new and exciting as well as the strange rumours people came up with about the two of you

Everyone else was just so boring, so pitiful to the overlord

Either kneeling to his every wish, or putting on a face until he left them alone, or the rare run away screaming

But when you bumped into him on the street, you asked him if he was that 'one guy who tortured people and put it online' before you even apologized

Then you asked if he would kill you, and when he said yes, you asked if he could not

Oh yes, that made him laugh alright, you were such a cracking star

Anytime you might ask something stupid, he turns it into a joke and explain it to you later behind closed doors

Falling? tripping over yourself? He catches you and makes it look like a romantic dip, or a small dance

To him, you're cluelessness has its charm, because you've always been so honest and forward about everything that he doesn't ever feel like he has to pull secrets from you

You also amuse his every little quirk, which everyone else just finds weird, so that's a major plus

Oh my god he is so stupid

But you make him look so smart it's insane, just add you to the room and suddenly he's a genius

At first, it was just by comparison, but now in order to compensate for you he is always trying his best to be the smartest he can be

Especially in his line of work, Blitzo doesn't like the idea of making a mistake that could cost your life

So instead he trains to make sure he can save you when you need it

You guys are very damsel in distress/knight in shining armour

Except this kind of backfires because him being so serious starts to get him caught a lot...and you always manage to get him out (usually by mistake)

Like that one time you busted into a room full of 20 armed demons and dropped your gun when they came at you, but it went off and landed in a crate of explosives

I mean both of you were very injured but you both got out soooo

" You really are the dumbest slut I know, my sweetie-pie. "

He gets really defensive about you, though

Sure, he’s your husband so he can make fun of you

But if anyone else calls you anything along the lines of stupid or useless he blows up on them

Sure, you're a bit oblivious, but they don't know your talents, and all the things you teach him behind closed doors

He won't let anyone get away with being cruel to you

A little bit of a roger rabbit and jessica rabbit duo

Honestly exactly his type

Extremely wealthy husband and his bimbo wife?

The newspaper headlines go crazy for you guys and your strange duo, and a lot of photos of the two of you together are popular

Sort of funny looking tree man and his dolled up wifey

He's not really the brightest either, not when it comes to simple things that don't have to do with money or his status

So you are both very oblivious to things that aren't entirely straightforward and always have to whisper back and forth about a topic until you can figure it out

Two idiots in love

Nevertheless, he loves your dependance on him

He likes that you are always by his side in case you need help, so you are safe and sound

He's just as clingy as you are, he always has one arm around your waist

Calls you all sorts of sort of derogatory pet names but in a loving way

Dolly, sweetheart, gorgeous, legs, etc etc

Honestly though you are also probably explaining as much to him as he is you, just in different topics

But he has the confidence to go with his lack of knowledge and obliviousness

And confidence gets you far

" Yeah, like, the moon is full once a week or some shit "

" Isn't it once a month? "

" No doll, that's how often a blue moon occurs. "

" Ohh! Like once in a blue moon? "

Anyone overhearing this shit is fucking rolling in their grave

Author's Note - Hiii welcome back tooth anon!!! Sorry this took a hot min, for some reaosn this prompt was so hard for me but I REFUSED to give up (Never sleep never what!?!?!) Thank you for requesting, and I hope you enjoy!

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #blitzo #blitzo x reader #mammon #mammon x reader

2K notes · View notes

eyesxxyou · 10 months

Text

that's what they all say pt.3 (finale)

↳ ❝ [dbf!miguel o'hara x black!reader] ¡! ❞

rating. m

word count. 5k

synopsis. you wish your father would stop making you be near miguel but when you arrive at his house to drop something off, you meet the most important person in his life

you and miguel finally get together

warnings. p in v sex, unprotected sex (stay responsible), creampie, breeding/pregnancy kink, oral (f receiving), Miguel's ready to wife you up, sweet little Gabriella, Miguel being so father, Lyla's here! I also changed it so that Miguel's ex-wife is dead instead of them being divorced because I could. Let me know if I missed anything!

tags: @ihateuguys @chshiresins @futuristicpandakid

part 1 | part 2

It’s been all of a week since the gala and you were right, things with you and Nathan didn’t work out. You had broken up with him the very next night and of course, it didn’t feel good but you thought it better to end it now before he thought things were getting serious. Then the slew of curses came from him ranging broadly from calling you a “fucking bitch” to telling you that “you’re not even that pretty anyway”. All the usual bullshit.

It was no chip off your shoulder all in all.

It has, however, been growing more and more difficult to be around your father. You’ve fucked Miguel twice now and he was absolutely none the wiser. Someone so technically smart but when it comes to everything else he was completely unaware. All the while, he spoke more and more fondly of his friend. “Miguel” this, “Miguel” that, “that man is a genius!”

‘Yeah, so smart I bet his head game is insane”, you think to yourself, hating yourself for it. But you smile all the same at yourself because it’s a joke for you and only you.

Don’t get yourself wrong though, you are on no good terms with Miguel despite the angry sex you two had in the bathroom of the gala. When you left him in the bathroom, you went to sit back down with your father and Nathan just as dinner was being served. Miguel didn’t return until maybe 10 minutes later, a thin sheet of sweat on his neck, his hair haphazardly restyled, and his once neat bowtie a bit uneven. There was no way he could come back to the party the way you left him, still hard and aching.

He ended up jerking himself off, his cock still slick with your essence. Was it shameful? Yes, utterly embarrassing too. His hand gripped the counter so hard, his hand stroking his length fast and hard with his eyes closed, trying to imagine you right there with him. God, your smell was still on his fingers and it was driving him crazy.

You didn’t spare him a single look the rest of the night and it drove him absolutely mad. You knew it too. That’s why you did it.

Anyways, spending your day running errands and doing chores for your father was not how you’d like to be spending a day off from your demanding job but you knew if you weren’t there to take care of him, he’d be wasting away in his own filth because he cares only about his career. You’ve been cleaning up the small amount of clutter he had around when he comes out with a metal box.

"I need you to take this to Miguel for me."

You immediately retract at the idea. "And why can't you do it? I'm already cleaning your house. Why don't you have a robot maid to do this anyway?" You know he's just too caught up in his own thing to do such a thing. You think you might gift him one to save yourself the energy.

"One, because I'm working on something incredibly important right now and I'm wasting precious time just by talking to you right now. Two, why would I do that when I have you?" He cracks a joke that doesn't even begin to bring a smile to your face but he brushes off your downer mood. "Look, Miguel and I are working on DNA splicing and he needs this sample ASAP. It's very important he gets it. I need you to take it because I don't trust anyone else with it."

You look at the box, your lip curling with the beginnings of a "no" but you know better than that. "I don't even know where he lives."

"Already sent you his address."

You try to find another way to avoid him. "Can I just leave it on his doorstep?" And the disappointment is palpable as your father shakes his head. "Nope, needs to be taken directly from your hands into his." His eyes narrow as you sigh. "Why are you so reluctant to go? You've never had a problem with Miguel before. You two are always messing around."

'Oh you wouldn't know the half of it, dad.'

"It's nothing. I'm just tired, that's all. I'll take it to him." It would be quick, in and out, you'd barely exchange a word, so much as a glance.

Saying that you'll take it and actually taking it were two entirely different beasts. The first thing you thought standing outside of his house was that his home was distinctly him, overly geometric, sharp edges and corners but with a surprising amount of large windows, all tinted with reflective sheeting making it impossible to see inside. What if he already saw you? What if he was standing there, looking out of one of those windows at you standing at the end of his driveway? The thought terrified you.

You approached the front door and jammed your finger at the doorbell. Oddly enough, there was no chime. To your surprise, a small hologram of a woman appeared in front of you. She wore a large, white, fur coat and pink, heart-shaped glasses. Her smile was broad. “And who are you?”

“Y/N. I’m here to drop something off to Miguel.”

“Ohhh so you’re Y/N!” She suddenly appeared on top of the box, sitting with her legs crossed in front of you. “Oh you have put Miguel through it. I’ve never seen him so stressed over one person. How’d you do it?” You never expected Miguel’s virtual assistant to be so forward.

“I-”

And then the front door swung open and the hologram glitched away. You expected to see Miguel’s towering frame in the door but it’s not there; instead, your eyes catch sight of a little girl maybe 9 or 10 years old looking up at you with big, brown eyes. It’s absolutely unmistakable that she is Miguel’s daughter. She looks just like him. “Who are you?” Her voice is sweet and small, timid even.

You smiled softly and knelt down in front of her, setting the box down beside you. “I’m Y/N, a friend of your dad’s.” You offer out a hand to her and she takes it, shaking firmly. “I’m Gabriella everyone calls me Gabi though.” She came out of her shell so quickly, smiling just like her dad. It warmed your heart.

“Lyla, I told you not to let Gabi open the door.” You could hear Miguel’s voice approaching from around the corner. He was in a black shirt that hugged him in all the right places and gray sweatpants hanging just at his hips. He was rubbing a towelette down his face, wiping off messily done makeup undoubtedly done by the unstable hands of his daughter.

Miguel saw you and paused for a moment. “Y/N?” He began to wipe his face harder. “Gabi, mija. You need to get ready. Your friend will be here soon.” He had a few remnants of glitter in the corners of his eyes that he missed and his lips were still slightly stained cherry red. Gabriella turned to her father. “I already got all my things together, Papa.”

“Do you have all of your soccer stuff together?” He asks and she nods vigorously. “Knee pads?” Again she nods. “Shin guards?” Gabriella wraps her arm around his leg. “Papa, I have everything. You already checked my bag twice.” Miguel sighed and gently patted her head. He looked to you again as you grabbed the handles to the sealed metal box and stood once more.

“I’m just here to drop this off.” You place the box inside beside his door, too uncomfortable to dare yourself to take a step inside. “I’ll take my leave now.”

“Hold on.” Miguel was quick to say. He had you here, at his house, for the first time ever. “Can we talk for a minute?” His eyes are soft, a bit pleading.

You look at Gabriella and think about how you don’t want to start anything in front of his daughter. You hesitate, chew softly on your lip. “Yeah, sure.” You come inside, pick up the box so you can hand it off to him.

You don’t like being so close to him. You hate the way his fingers graze yours has he takes the box from you. “Thanks,” he mutters, setting the box down on his coffee table. He tapped the table and it lit up with a screen. “Lyla, make sure this box remains secure until I pick it up again.” The holographic woman from before showed up like she was laying on top of the table. “Got it, Miguel and Gabi’s friend is pulling up.” She points to the door before disappearing again.

Gabriella grins and runs off to go get her things so she can go and for the first time, you and Miguel are alone again. You don’t look at each other, both trying to find something to say in the moment. All you really wanted to do was leave. You felt like you were intruding on something deeply personal. You’re in his home. His daughter is here. This is his whole life right here.

“Is it always this chaotic here?” Your voice breaks the silence. You feel like it’s too loud. Why are your ears ringing?

A small smile creeps onto Miguel’s lips. “No, not usually. Gabi’s just excited to go to her friend’s house.” His smile faded softly and cleared his throat. He turned his whole body to you, broad shoulders sloping to a small waist. God, you loved his body. “Y/N-”

“Papa, I’m ready!” Gabriella came bouncing downstairs with her duffle bag, ready to run off with her friend. She runs to her father and he catches her, lifting her with an exaggerated groan. “Oh, you’re getting so big, mija. Soon I won’t be able to carry you around.” You doubt that much, with how large he was. He could probably pick you up as you were now.

You see how gentle he is with her, how soft his voice is, how he holds her like she’s the most precious thing in the world.

“Are you still coming to my soccer game tomorrow?” Gabriella asks him, her lips forming into a small pout as her hands grasp at his shirt. Miguel’s eyes softened. “Of course, mi amor. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Your heart warmed as he peppered kisses across her face and she let out a series of squeals and giggles. As much as you told yourself you hated him, he was a wonderful father and it was clear he adored his daughter. What a lovely little girl too.

He set her down and Gabriella looked up at you. “It was nice meeting you!” God, she was adorable. You smiled at her with a small hint of maternal kindness. “It was nice meeting you too, Gabi.”

She runs off out the door and Miguel follows her, seeing her off out the door before closing it. He sighed softly and looked back at you as you gaze around at his house. It’s decorated with a lot of pictures of him and Gabriella but none with a wife or girlfriend. Is that why he and your father are such good friends? Single fathers in their own ways whether it was by divorce or death. You’re too scared to touch anything, not knowing what’s a screen or not or what might activate Lyla.

“I think we need to talk about things.” Miguel begins with hesitation laced up in his voice, not knowing if this would spark an argument between the two of you. You squirm in your own skin. “I don’t know if there’s anything to talk about. I don’t know if you’ve finally decided where you stand but I know where I do.” You know the truth. The slightest push to sway you and you might come back around. You wanted him badly every single time you saw him. You always wanted his lips on yours, wanted his hands on your waist.

“I made my decision.”

You raise a brow at him, your arms crossing tightly over your chest as if to protect yourself from him. “Oh? And what is that?”

Miguel bites the inside of his cheek, his teeth clawing at the soft flesh. “I want you.” It took very little thought to come to that conclusion after the gala. He looked up at you while you were riding him and only thought that he wanted your face to be the first he sees when he wakes up and when he goes to sleep at night. He likes the way you feel in his hold, how you smell, how, for the first time since his fiance's death giving birth to Gabi, he thinks he could be happy with someone.

You hum like you’re not impressed. You tell yourself that you’re not going to give in so easily, he has to try harder than just that. You keep your back turned to him, not hearing how he approached so quickly and quietly. “Mía Carina, please.” His hand is suddenly on your waist, his fingers dipping into your flesh as he pulls you towards him

“What do you want me to say, Miguel? You want me to just fall into you and tell you I want you too?” You turn to look up at him and find that he’s much closer than you expected. “It’s going to take a lot more than just that.” You can see the way his mind whirls on his face as he thinks of what to do to get you to understand just how much he wants you and everything that comes with you.

You don’t expect him to get down on his knees in front of you, his hands on your hips as he pulls you close and presses his face into your stomach. “You don’t understand, mía carina. I want you. I want you and all the consequences that come along with it. Fuck– let your dad hate me, I don’t care. Please, Y/N. God, you don’t even know.” His voice strains as he looks up at you. He can see that he’s getting to you. The confliction on your face gives you away.

“You told me I was too young.” All you can think about is that first night. The idea of the two of you being together did seem a bit ludicrous but the way things fell apart that night.

“Baby-” Miguel’s hands gripped tighter. “What was I supposed to say? I’m in my 40s now. I have a daughter and you’re just beginning your life. I didn’t want you to be stuck with me and all these responsibilities.”

“That wasn’t for you to decide, Miguel.”

He kisses along the waistline of your pants. The softness of his lips grazing your hips sends a shiver skidding down the length of your spine. “You’re right and I’m sorry, muñeca.” His fingers slip beneath your shirt. “Please forgive me. Let me make it up to you.” His hands trace along the slopes of your body, the dips and curves that he so badly wants to commit to memory. “Lemme make it up to you, my pretty girl.”

He wraps your arms around your thighs and stands up, tossing you over his shoulder with ease. You squeal with surprise. “Miguel, what are you doing?” You hit his back but it has little to no effect on him.

“I told you, I’m gonna make it up to you.” He began to carry up upstairs to what you could only assume was his bedroom. You figured there wasn’t anything you could do about the situation at this point and that you might as well enjoy the ride and the amazing view of his ass.

He took you into his room and laid you down rather gently on his neatly made bed. Miguel stood above you with his hips between your legs. You made a motion to sit up but he shook his head with a disapproving click of his tongue. “No, you don’t do a thing. You’ll be a real muñeca now, won’t you?” His fingers play with the button on your jeans before undoing the fixture.

Miguel took his sweet time getting your clothes off, starting with your shoes and socks then continuing with your pants. He kissed your pelvis as he removed your underwear, this time keeping it intact. His kisses are wet, gentle, and teasing as he maintains eye contact all the way through. He leaves marks where his lips meet your skin, littering you with blossoming red marks all across your stomachHe takes your shirt next and finally your bra, leaving you completely bare before him.

Miguel’s large hands come to fondle your breasts, squeezing and manipulating the soft, malleable flesh against his warm palms. He thinks about how nice you’d look with swollen, tender breasts ready to feed his child. God, now he was thinking about impregnating you. Making his family all the bigger.

You’re so soft, every part of you drives him up the wall. He nudged the bulge of his cock against your core, feening to be inside you. “So pretty.” He murmured. “Mi linda muñeca. So beautiful.” Miguel trailed his fingertips along your body, between your breasts, down your diaphragm and naval and smiled at the way your body reacted so violently to his touch. He got on his knees at the end of his bed, placing either of your legs over your shoulders. You tremble as his large, calloused hands gripped and massaged the soft flesh of your thighs.

Miguel began his descent with a few kisses at your knees, slowly trailing his lips across the sensitive, supple flesh of your inner thighs. His breath is hot and each exhale builds an anticipation that begins to grow unbearable.

"Miguel please." You whine, desperate to know all he can do with that tongue of his. His teasing was killing you slowly and softly, the more torturous way to go. And how can he refuse you when you sound so pretty like that for him? He nipped at your thighs a little more, growing closer and closer to your wanting cunt growing wetter for him by the moment.

Finally, he kissed the slickened lips of your pussy. A sloppy, wet kiss with his tongue circling your swollen clit. Miguel spat on your pussy and watched it pool at your entrance. He put his fingers in the mess of it, humming softly as he eased his middle finger into your wanton hole. You whine again, buckling your hips down because his pace is excruciatingly slow.

Miguel placed his hand on your pelvis to keep you still. “Be patient for me. Can you do that for me, mía carina?” He fucks his middle finger into you a couple times before pushing his index finger in with it. His digits were long and thick, pushing and curling and massaging your silky walls in search of that soft spot that could have you crumbling in seconds.

His tongue was on your rosebud again, lips latched and suckling while his tongue flicked against the little bundle of nerves. Miguel kept his eyes on you, watching the way your face contorted. Your brows pinched with concentration and your lips parted to let a few strangled moans escape. Your fingers were in his hair, grasping at his soft curls. “Just like that– God…oh fuck, Miguel!” His fingers were pumping in and out fast and hard. Your heels dug into his back and your toes curled with pleasure.

It was almost pathetic how easily he could coax an orgasm out of you. The right stroke of his fingers and swirl of his tongue and he had you seeing stars and left your ears ringing. The building of a climax in the pit of your stomach bubbled like boiling water. You let your eyes close, squeezed them shut to concentrate on that feeling, help build it into something more and let it come to complete fruition.

“Go ahead and cum for me, muñeca. Can you do that just for me?” The low rumble of his voice against your aching cunt was enough to do just that. Your back arched off the bed, your fingers twisted in his hair, tugging at his roots to keep him close. Miguel slips his fingers from your, replacing it with his tongue while his arched nose continues to rub your clit. He liked the taste of you on his tongue, liked bringing you so much pleasure that your muscles spasmed and seized uncontrollably. His fingers massaged your thighs and hips. “Good girl. Mi buena chica.”

Miguel kissed your thighs again, his teeth grazing across your skin as your legs trembled. He was hard now—harder than before at least. His lips were slick with the very thing he hopes no one else in the world will ever get the chance to taste. He stood against, looked down at your little fucked out frame with tenderness. God, he loved you.

“Can you sit up for me, mi alma?” He asks you. You loved how gentle he was being with you and wanted to please him, so you fought against the aftershock of your orgasm and sat up in front of him. Your face was just against his pelvis with the obvious tint in his pants brushing his lips. You grabbed his hips and looked up at him. The valley of his abs and all those muscles.

“You’re such a good daddy, Miguel.” You murmur, kissing the swell while your hands slipped beneath his shirt to caress his muscles. “How sweet you were with Gabriella. I love a man that’s good with children.”

“Oh really?” Miguel bent down at the waist to kiss you, purring softly against your plush lips. “Funny, I was just thinking about how nice and pretty you’d look pregnant and in my bed.” You moaned softly against his lips, your hand stroking the back of his neck. “Miguel.” His large hands were on your breasts again.

“You want to help me make another baby? Make me a daddy again?” His tongue was against yours. “I wanna make you a mommy. WIll you let me do that?” He wanted to cum deep inside you, press his hand against the exterior of your womb and know that his child was growing in there. It might just be a nice little fantasy, hormones running high, but it turned him on. It turned you on too. Birth control in these times meant you couldn’t get pregnant unless you intentionally stopped taking it. No risks involved.

“Yes, please.” You pushed Miguel back so you could stand up. The height difference was much the same but now you were at least at his chest. You looked up at him with wide, pretty eyes and offered him the same human kindness he offered you by removing his clothes. You grabbed the hem of his shirt and helped him take it off before doing the same with his sweatpants and underwear. You realize that for the first time, you two are completely naked in front of each other, bare and vulnerable.

Miguel kissed you again because he simply couldn’t help it. He kissed you because even though it hurt his back to keep bending down like this, he loved kissing you so much that it didn’t matter. He picked you up with ease and walked around the side of the bed to place you further up on it. He climbed up on top of you, caressed the side of your body as he grabbed a pillow.

"How do you want it?" He asked, liking to give you a choice in the matter. You looked at the pillow he was grasping and took it from him. Miguel watched as you lied on your stomach and quickly caught on when you placed the pillow beneath your hips to elevate them. He liked the way you thought.

Miguel mounted the back of your thighs, wrapping his hand around the veiny length of his cock while his other hand pulled your hips up a bit more to expose your tight, wet, little pussy. He tapped the head against your entrance before easing himself in just enough that he no longer needed his hand to guide. He leaned over you, pushing deeper until his hips met your ass flush and everything that made the two of you two separate beings disappeared.

You turned to look back at him from your position and hooked your arm over his shoulder and around his neck to pull him close. His hands were on either side of your body, supporting the both of you. Miguel kissed you and at the same time thrusted his hips sharply into you. “You’ll make such a great mom, mía carina. I’ll put a baby nice and deep in you and we’ll be a happy family.” He rocked his hips, pulling back until just the tip remained positioned against your wonton pussy before sinking back into his own personal heaven.

Miguel wasn’t fucking you. It wasn’t fast or rough or fueled by blatant, blinded lust. His pace was slow and steady, quite nice actually. Each thrust drew a placid moan from your lips or a whimper of Miguel’s name against his tongue. Thai kind of sex was the baby-making kind of sex. You never had it but you knew it all the same, you could feel it. This was the kind of sex that made his daughter.

“You’ll be such a good mom to Gabriella.” He kissed your cheek, tracing his lips across the curve of your jaw. He hoped saying something like that wouldn’t scare you away because he wanted you to be a part of his family. Gabriella never met her mother, grew up without any semblance of a mother figure at all. At first, it was just because he was heartbroken, freshly widowed, and now with a daughter. Then after a couple years when he thought he might finally be able to get back out there, the occasional date here but no one was allowed to meet his daughter. He didn’t want anyone who wasn’t going to be a lasting part of his life make an impression on her, get her mind going. He was afraid her real mother might be replaced, that Gabriella might be mistaken. So he made sure she knew who her mother was, showed her pictures of her, told her stories, etc.

It’s only been in recent years that Miguel has realized that Gabriella still needed a maternal figure in her life. And trying to find someone willing to step up and raise a kid that isn’t theirs is hard to imagine, no less you, a girl in her 20s with no children of her own and a whole life ahead of her. He wasn’t trying to tie you down like that.

You moan softly, loving the way his body pressed against yours. Your skin stuck to his with the thin layer of sweat that seemed to try and bound you two together. You loved how full you elt, his cock plunging in and out at you in firm, timed strokes. The two of you so desperately clung on to each other like someone was trying to pull you two away from each other.

The way you felt with Miguel was electric, like nothing you ever felt before and you thought that this might actually be love. This could be love right here and that terrified you and excited you. Because you were so in love that you were perfectly happy with the idea of being a close part of his personal life, eventually coming to help parent his daughter at your age.

“I’m close, my love.” Miguel was beginning to lose all sense of self. His breathing began to pick up as his hips buckled a bit faster. “Gonna cum in your pretty little pussy, claim it all as mine.” He sat up finally and suddenly you felt a bit cold without his body on yours. His large hands grasped your hips to keep you still and watched as his cock sank deep into you. God, the way your walls stretched to contain him, gripped him like no other.

You knew he was just on the edge when his hips began to slow into spaced, yet harsh thrusts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck– God.” He choked as his abdomen tightened and he pressed his narrow hips as hard as he could against your ass, pressing himself as deep as he could inside you.

You moan at the feeling of his hot cum filling you, painting your walls in nice, thick spurts. Miguel lets out a low groan, his eyes squeezing shut as you rock back and forth on his dick, milking him for all he had to offer you. There was so much that it began to leak at the corners, creating a milky white ring right at your entrance.

Miguel left you slowly, not truly wanting to leave the soft warmth of your body. Cum immediately began to surface and dribble down the front of your lips. It was quite the sight, such a beautiful one. He just had to take a moment to admire his work.

“You havin’ fun back there?” You ask after a beat of silence. You turn around beneath Miguel and sit up just enough to kiss his chest before he bends down to meet you halfway. His hands come to find purchase on your jaw, his thumbs rubbing circles on your cheekbones. Your smile into the kiss before laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

You stifle your laughter as you pull away from him and lay back down on top of his bedsheets. “My dad is so gonna kill you.” You look up at Miguel as he runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. He came and laid down beside you, wrapping a arm around your waist to pull you closer. “Let’s not tell him just yet. I have to figure out the best way to explain it.”

You roll over and murmur into his lightly hair-covered chest. “I don’t think there’s any good way to explain this to him. Might as well rip the bandaid off while he’s not expecting it.”

“That might be the right move.”

#i did it!#it's done!#finale #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #miguel o'hara #atsv #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fic #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 smut

491 notes · View notes

love-lilly02 · 1 month

Text

The Challenge- Ch. 7

An- hey. (drops random half edited chapter that’s probably the shortest one i’ve ever written) see ya🚶🏾‍♀️

A total of two months, three and a half weeks and six days.

That was how long you had been MIA. Each time another day was added to that count, you grew more restless than before. You wanted to go home, to sleep in your bed, eat american food, damnit just to have a different color shirt to wear.

And yet you were still stuck here.

Each day started off the same. You would wake up at the ass crack of dawn, eat something akin to breakfast with Nikolai and wait to see if today was the day you were going back. Instead, he would silently place a knife on the table— some days it was different— and walk out of the room. The same routine, every day. for the past two months.

It was enough to drive any normal person insane. and it had almost driven you insane, definitely would have if you weren’t in the military.

You had managed to work up the courage to ask why he didn’t immediately send you back one day, why he tolerated you staying with him for this long.

“If i send you back they do things different. Look at you oddly, treat you weirder. Here you can rest, regain your skills.” He had said, not pausing to spare you a glance.

“I take you back when you ready.”

according to him, you had not been ready in a long time.

you never really gave up hope. Not actually, you knew logically at some point he had to bring you back to them. And going back on your own was a suicide mission, one even worse than the thing that had gotten you into this mess. So you waited.

If it took five months or seven years, you would wait.

Kate Laswell was a woman of action.

She knew this for a fact, it had been thrown back into her face so many times she lost body parts to count it. Which is why your disappearance bothered her so much. You were a person of action as well, it’s what prompted her to introduce you to the 141. So then why had you been MIA for the past three months? The thought sat there constantly, turning even the best days sour.

That, and what you were doing to the team.

It didn’t take a genius to figure it out, although you did have to look a bit harder to see the changes. Especially in people like Ghost and Price, whereas Kyle and Soap might as well have worn their emotions on their sleeves. She wished she could do something to help, to find where exactly you were. Or if you were alive, even.

All given evidence suggested otherwise.

She had replayed the shitty camera footage of your disappearance, watched it frame by frame, pixel by pixel. Mutiple times, and she couldn’t figure out how there could be a way for you to get out of there. It just wouldn’t have added up.

But she didn’t give up there, of course she wouldn’t.

She kept searching, looking for any sign of you. As a civilian, one of the russian’s captives, anyone. anything could come into play, you were a smart girl and everyone knew it.

Unfortunately, that also meant you could cover up your tracks well.

It took another month for anything good to come up. And that something good came as salvation always does.

In the form of a call.

John had made an attempt to push the situation out of his mind, to allow you to handle your own business. His thoughts screamed at him to be more active, to do something more, but there was literally nothing for it.

Or so he thought.

The call came in while he was walking out of a meeting, silently dreading the mound of paperwork he would now have to do. When he saw the caller ID he had to do a double take, and he rushed to answer the call.

“Nik?”

“Captain. It’s been a while, no?”

“Damn right it has. Makes me scared.”

His old friend laughed, and Price could imagine the way he was shaking his head.

“Yes, yes. But i have gift—what? okay, okay sheesh. I have… surprise… for you.”

Price just stared. “Is there someone else there? What’s goin on Nik?”

There was silence on the other end of the line, then a lot of rusting.

“Um. Hey.”

Price almost dropped the phone.

The process of getting you back wasn’t as hard as they thought it would be, but it certainly took a very long time.

In reality it took two weeks. But to them each day felt like a decade.

The entire flight took 11 hours, and they weren’t allowed to meet you halfway (something about using military vehicles for non military purposes. all four boys thought that was absolute bull shit but they couldn’t do anything about it) So they did the next best thing.

wait.

And they waited. and waited. Each time a chopper landed on the helipad they were rushing to the window, seeing if it was you. It got to the point that they had someone constantly surveying that area of the base, just so they could be immediately notified.

And finally, finally you were back.

It was a whole ordeal, theatrics that even soap had to roll his eyes at. The moment you got off the plane you were swamped with people asking questions, doctors trying to assess how you were alive and unharmed, people just staring in awe.

But you ignored them all, scanning the crowd with a panicked expression. It didn’t disappear till you saw the four of them, standing far, far away from the mob of people surrounding you.

Nik walked out behind you, placing a steadying hand on your shoulder. The two of you made your way down the ramp to the group, and Price smiled for the first time in a long time when he saw you.

“Welcome back, kid.”

this was gona be an akward chapter anyways, i had NO idea how to write the reader's return. I'll make it up to you guys next time, pinkie promise

My Masterist

#cod x reader #poly 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost x reader

117 notes · View notes

neurodivenport · 10 months

Note

literally need like chase nsfw alphabet so bad he is on my mind

i got u babe

@firelitsparks helped me & co-wrote a lot of this so big thank you!! ily

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he's definitely great at aftercare. he cares a lot about you and is over-worried about your wellbeing constantly, so much that he may go over the top with it sometimes. towel to clean you up, water to hydrate, maybe even a cold towel so you don't overheat. constantly asking if you need anything at all. i think as the relationship goes on he gets better at knowing the specifics of what you need, going less overboard.

as for receiving… he really gets off on getting taken care of, so aftercare is hard with him because he gets so easily turned on by it. y’all are definitely gonna have to go another round.

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

i think chase’s favorite body part of yours is a tie between your boobs (if you have them) and thighs.

for boobs, he loves them no matter the size. he loves having his head between them, loves lying on them, loves having his hand under your shirt to just hold them. not even in a sexual way sometimes, just for the comfort and your warmth.

as for thighs- its similar. no matter the size, he adores being crushed by them. he’s taken lots of naps just laying his head in-between them. when you’re sitting down, he almost always has a hand on one of them.

his favorite body part of his own has to be his hands. he’s proud of how they contribute to science, how he can use them with his molecularkinesis, and how they handle his laser bo. he’s also incredibly proud of how easily they can make you come apart.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

honestly, with how cleanly chase is, i don’t think he likes cumming anywhere but inside you. he won’t mind it on your tummy or back, but he prefers it in your mouth or inside you. he thinks the act of cumming on your face is a little too degrading and messy.

he also likes how possessive the aspect of cumming in you is. you letting him mark you on the inside really defines that you’re his and it drives him crazy.

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

multiple. we all know he can record things with his bionic eye and ears and put them in a hard drive, right…? i think thats pretty self explanatory 🫢

he’s also always wanted to try pegging, and has a bit of a size kink if you’re on the smaller side. he’s been bullied his whole life about being small, having a partner thats smaller than him would stroke his ego in a way he definitely wants to play with.

…he doesn’t want to say it, but he also wants to try some roleplay with him as a scientist and you as his subject.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i think when you start dating he’s not experienced at any aspect. he’s had a few people come onto him, sabrina for sure, but he’s never actually dated anyone, let alone had any sexual experience. it’s completely new to him.

however! he is a bionic genius. when your sex life starts out, i think he’s going completely by the book, searching every technical aspect he has about it in his hard drive. but it’s still flimsier, because he has to get used to the fact that everyones different. he takes the time to learn about what makes you tick.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

chase wants to have full access to every part of you. your face, your chest, your clit/dick, so he likes positions that give him that range. missionary, front to front smoothing and cowgirl are up there. he wants to see every little reaction on your face when he takes you.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he definitely takes it more seriously. he’s a romantic at heart, wanting to take his time to really make you feel good. if something funny happens he might crack a joke, but for the most part, he’s hyperfocused on how it feels for the both of you. the goofiest he’ll be is how lovey dovey he gets for you.

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

super well groomed. he likes it all neat and tidy down there.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

chase has a hard time having sex with no romantic connection. it needs to be leveled with romance for him. intimacy is absolutely one of the pluses and what makes it so great for him. like i said before, this man is insanely lovey dovey for you, he’s the type to break out a shit ton of candles and rose petals.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

after the two of you start dating, he rarely jerks off anymore. he can barely get off without you close by. the only time he does is when he’s away for a while on time consuming missions, and even then, he calls you just to hear you talk him through it.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

I HAVE A WHOLE LIST HERE, but i think his top ones are absolutely voice and praise. he loves hearing you talk, saying anything, especially when you’re telling him how good he’s doing and how good he feels. he can’t count how many times he’s came just from you moaning for him.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

he is not that much of an exhibitionist. his favorite place is at home, in a bed, where he can take his time with you.

however, if he gets really fucking horny out in public, he’s down to do it at the nearest solitary environment possible. as long as no one can see you, he’s down to dick you down anywhere. y’all have definitely desecrated the lab on multiple occasions

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

literally everything you do. you touch him on the shoulder and his dick is hard.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

nothing that will hurt you. he’s too scared to lose you or scare you off, so i really can’t see him doing something that will endanger you, mentally or physically. sorry to my degradation girlies but i don’t think he’s into giving for that 🫣

as for himself, i don’t think he’d like being bound too much. a simple hand tie is fine with him, but after being strapped down to giselle’s table, he’s not down for anything more than that.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he loves giving. like i said, he fucking loves your thighs, and will gladly be in-between them any time and anywhere. he loves hearing you moan for him, and the knowledge that he can get you off with just his tongue sends his ego skyrocketing.

he will never say no to receiving either, but he rarely asks for it. he’s always nervous they’re doing it just for his sake. it also makes him cum faster than he’d like to admit. seeing you with his dick in your mouth is a little too much for him to handle.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it depends! he prefers taking his time with you for the most part, but when he gets close he tends to lose himself in you.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he doesn’t prefer them, but they’re kind of necessary for him with his mission schedule. like i said, he prefers to take his time with you.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he’s down to experiment with anything once, but is hesitant to try anything that might hurt you.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

…he’s bionic and trained in fighting. he can go for days. you’ve definitely never outlasted him without tapping out.

as for lasting, with you? he cums faster than he’d like to. you just drive him a little too crazy.

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

i don’t think he owned any before you, but he’s down to try them out. especially ones that could work with his magnetism app.

on the other hand, i can see him getting a little jealousy and preferring to just use what he’s got.

i can see him inventing his own toy for you to use while he’s away on missions, which was perfect, until he sees how much you enjoy it…

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

chase isn't unfair, nope, nope. he TRIES to tease you, but the very SECOND you tease him back or show your interest, he's becoming a subby mess. he can't even edge you more than maybe one time because the minute you beg him he's a bigger mess than you are.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

when you first start out, he tries to stifle his noises as much as possible for fear of embarrassment. but as soon as you tell him how much you love them, he lets them out, and he’s fucking loud.

he absolutely cannot shut up, and he’s full of just whimpers and whines. he almost sounds like he’s crying when he’s close to cumming.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he thanks you every time its over. without fail. he’s making you cum multiple times and he’s still thanking you for letting him do it.

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

…he’s big. and he has no idea. he knows the average dick size, but in his brain, he’s not that big. so when you tell him he is, he’s a blushing mess.

7 1/2 inches and thick. he has you wobbly legged and sore after.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH. when he’s around you his dick gets harder faster than you can blink. he was a megavirgin before you, now he’s just addicted to feeling you. you’re in the grossest pjs ever and he wants you. he just got back from a mission and he’s literally limping and bleeding and he’s trying to get you to sit on his face.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

not super fast. he has bionic stamina, so it takes longer for him to get rid of that adrenaline. he’s content with watching you doze off peacefully on his shoulder.

#chase davenport x reader #ns/fw #chase hcs #chase davenport smut

633 notes · View notes

tsukimefuku · 22 days

Text

I have a Higuruma sfw crack head canon and I’m about to turn it into everybody’s problem

This has been written by an actual criminal defense attorney specialized in continental law (which is the system in place in Japan) with free time on her hands.

So, from what we’ve learned, Higuruma has dedicated his career exclusively to being a criminal defense attorney. Given he’s 35 during the events in JJK, it’s safe to say he has been working with it for at least a decade.

So, as it is to be expected, since he has been called a genius numerous times, his knowledge of criminal law and criminal procedure law is probably off the charts. That has also been demonstrated when he’s debating the possible outcomes to put Sukuna under trial during chapter 244 (also, chef’s kiss 🤌 for mentioning the statute of limitations and code amendments that came in 2010. Whoever consulted for Gege did a WONDERFUL job).

From what Higuruma has told us previously, Judgeman uses the six Japanese codes to give the sentencing: the Constitution, the Civil Code, the Criminal Code, the Commercial Code, the Code of Criminal Procedure, and the Code of Civil Procedure. I believe this might be a mistranslation, though, because the pachinko parlor prohibition seems to come from what we would call an ordinary bill, not one of the codes, but I digress.

Also, according to him, considering Judgeman is his shikigami, what he believes is feasible under interpreting a law becomes a possible verdict.

With all that, I need to settle some things of being a specialized attorney for a long time.

What happens, more often than not, is that you become incredibly rusty (and kinda bad) at comprehending and interpreting other areas of law. That happens simply because the rationale of each area works very differently. For instance, I don’t understand or remember most of what I studied regarding labor law during law school, and I’ve been working exclusively with criminal law (as an intern and then a lawyer) ever since 2015.

So here’s my question: if judgeman, for whatever reason, had to judge civil, labor or commercial matters, considering it is bound by Higuruma’s own comprehension of the Japanese laws, would it give bizarre verdicts that wouldn’t make ANY sense in an actual Japanese Court of law?

My head canon is that YES, THAT WOULD DEFINITELY HAPPEN, AND IT WOULD BE FUNNY AS HELL.

Anyway, that’s it, thanks for reading my brainrot. 🦉

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #higuruma #Higuruma Hiromi #jjk higuruma #jjk hiromi #Hiromi jjk #jujutsu Higuruma #jujutsu Hiromi #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #higuruma headcanons

112 notes · View notes

n4rval · 4 months

Note

hi I just wanted to say your tags on the gaster poll posts are so correct yessss (always enjoy your takes just in general). thank you for being one of the seemingly very few people out there who also believes there's no way the timeline works for gaster and alphys to have been colleagues. however, him haunting her benevolently is something I'm 1000% here for <3 (also I hope your finals went well and you get to have a nice relaxing break!)

HII HELLO HI im glad you like them!!! knowing you read these motivates me to keep being Absolutely Very Normal About Him on the internet

personally it's less of a believing thing and more of a come on it's written right there thing, but since we're here.

behold! dingus timeline. (and the hottest of takes with freshly baked personal headcanons otherwise what am i doing)

Not a skeleton?

Isn't 201X too early?

Indeed, not a skeleton, but rather, some guy. Something about how monster's bodies are manifestations of their SOUL, and him oddly resembling a strange looking man does well to represent his insatiable curiosity and love for creating. (things humans are known for in a better light)

On the other hand, you will be pleased with how fascinated he is by "FLESHLINGS AND THEIR CALCIUM DEPOSITS".

And then they fucking died.

201X is the year the first human fell into the underground, and shortly after, the royal family has moved to New Home. This means some decent exploration of the cavern has already been made. Scientists could very well already have been working on optimizing life underground, with special attention to the large and ever growing new capital.

My idea? As this idiot has been aiding exploration with his antics, Gerson was the one to appoint him to Asgore. Something about his talent with turning garbage into non-garbage. With a little patience and getting familiar with his odd manerisms, it was not too long until he got to be the prince's weird godfather.

Cracking already?

And everyone was devastated, mainly the close family. Not only that, but amidst your mourning, the one couple responsible for your unrealistically high standards for romance just divorced. Is love even real anymore. You eat ants with your cereal and your work consists mainly of convenience improvements and absolutely nothing groundbreaking. What's the point of breaking that pesky barrier again? Child murder? Come on.

That's the Wingdings PATIENCE and BRAVERY encountered in their adventure. Dear god, you're lame. Aren't you some kind of genius? Get yourself together! And together he got his self, now, he has children to look after. Surely there must be some other way. He must stop coming up with new flavours for chips and find some other way.

... Dear god, the King is going to kill them.

BONES and DT

Listen. He's old. You got your wrinkles, he's got his cracking. What? You meant to point out some major event of injury must have been responsible for his current state of deformity? Well, he's old AND heartbroken. That's a direct blow to the SOUL, okay.

Jokes aside (kind of), doing any lasting damage to a monster is quite difficult given their magic forms can easily be healed through, well, magic. They can, however, eventually "fall" (wink wink) and dust away with age - which cannot, however, be fixed with magic.

With a little determination however ...

Something about the anomaly.

He found it, the other way. It was the bones all along, the so needed sustainance for channelling such a high concentration of that power. Well, not necessarily, but a boney structure will endure much more and last much longer than a meaty one. Also, it looks so cool.

You know this guy, he gets first dibs on any and all dubious substances that might or might not deal the last hit to the nail on his coffin dust urn(?). And when it all works out (dubious), he might as well play a little. What kind of things can he make? With the material properties of these calcified remains infused with his own magic, animated with determination.

Some new, powerful magic tricks?

A new kind of monster, maybe?

DARK, DARKER, YET DARKER.

There is a lot of interesting things one can do with isolated DT, aside from making bones rattle with life - for example, peeking onto the complex layers and ramifications of what composes reality. This is when the already kooky scientist grows a little mad; manic, if you will. This is the Wingdings sans was familiar with.

Time travel this, resets that, blah blah blah alpha timeline, the anomaly, the angel, the anomaly again, all things that only make sense to him and his illegible mess on the black board. The lack of detail is killing him, he needs to know what it is - what it does, why it does, how it does. Not to stop it, no, there is no stopping it.

Rather, an overwhelming need to understand it.

He falls somewhere in recent history, details of it left ambiguous. The shattering, combined with the amount of DT running in his magical... mathematical physiology, rendered all of his self but an espectator of his reality; confined to the code and unable to do anything but watch, powerless before the nature of his very being, like a corrupted program.

It is all rather frustrating, besides the burden that is coming to terms with simply not existing anymore, watching was pretty much all this research was and now ever will be. That is, until something interacts with him. It is different from the tragic prince, whom no matter how much DT he's accumulated, he is just as confined to this world's rules as other elements. Not this one, not the force from beyond. Not "YOU".

He makes it a mission to reach out, despite the limits of the code, to give away bits and pieces of him and see if you bite. But not too much, he's seen how you tend to exhaust a world for knowledge, something he can oddly sympathize with. I mean, what will you do once you find everything? One cannot fully know a person.

Maybe in another world, prophetized by a cute, little white dog. A much better world for everyone, without so much as war or disease, his greatest creation yet. And he could invite you to it, to experience bewilderment, to be reminded of wonder. If it could even help you, wherever you are, to deem your own world worth of partaking ... then the experiment was a success.

#artwork #inbox #freakbullet #gaster #wd gaster #undertale #deltarune #character design is my passion #not so much graphic design i suck at this #WIPES SWEAT #happy new year!! i've been writing this since christmas!!!!!#sorry if you have to squint at my handwriting its a big canvas #just zoom in #also sorry if my writing lacks extensive details if you were looking for any #im one for visual narrative #so i tried my best to convey everything in the simplest structure i could #and cut short a lot of specifics that are not relevant for a timeline dissection #things like complex feelings and worldbuilding related shenanigans #i will definitely cover these in the future perhaps in the form of comics #this just isnt the place #this is all you need to get a grasp on the character :pray:#there is a lot of proportion inconsistencies on post tragedy old man dont point them out #its just that i've redrawn him like thrice and i was like. you know what? it doesnt have to be perfect #he'll make a cameo when i post fallen humans art

119 notes · View notes

junipers-archive · 1 year

Note

hi hi hi:))) i’ve never made a request before but i desperately need a one-shot of emily and derek being besties at work and messing around with spence. just teasing him and talking abt life idk something to warm my heart🫶

Heyy and its no problem at all but hope you don't mind I made this a blurb because I'm not taking one-shot requests right now!! <3

❥ You overhear the team teasing Spence about his crush on you over the phone

You'd opted to stay home today, having not been feeling very well and gotten it cleared with Hotch. Cases were slow this week and it was no harm.

However you'd also forgotten to inform Spencer, he had called you this morning wanting to know if you were alright, needed anything and all the other basic Spencer doting questions. When your conversation was over he'd hung up, or he assumed he hung up and put his phone back in his pocket.

The truth of the matter was he'd missed the hang up button.

You thought it'd be funny to listen in on his interactions with your co-workers, maybe even get some gossip that wasn't exactly meant for your ears.

He was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, drinking his coffee as he greeted Emily. "Morning." His voice was groggy and you could tell he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night.

"What?? Is this a boy genius without his Y/n??" she was sitting at the table, picking at the muffin in front of her.

"W-Whatdoyou mean?" He tried not to show his excitement that people assumed you were his.

"She means that now that L/n isn't here you might not be in the best shape." It was Derek, you could tell by the hint of charisma in his voice that he was grinning.

"I-I can function without y/n!" He was blushing now, as Emily and Derek side-eyed one another, responding to him by scrunching their eyebrows and nodding sarcastically.

You on the other hand were elated, you loved they assumed you were his, you'd had a crush on him since you joined the team.

Derek now walked over to him, putting a rough hand on his shoulder, "Pretty boy can you ask her out already? Cause the googley eyes we have to put up with on the daily is getting repetitive.”

Emily almost spits out her coffee as Spencer begins to malfunction, but she finds breath to add on her own, "Don't get me started on when I had to walk around with you two lovebirds on the last case! It was like I was the side character in your romcom."

You can her them both crack up over her joke, teasing Spencer all the more about his crush.

After they've collected themselves he asks, "D-Do you think she likes me back?"

They collectively groan at his question, Derek like the big brother he is to Spence speaks up first, "Of course she does man, that girl would follow you to ends of the earth. And that's a long way considering you probably know exactly-"

"Twenty four million, nine hundred and one thousand point four hundred and sixty one miles." He cuts in dutifully expressing once more how many absurd facts he knows.

Emily tries to reassure him as Derek shakes his head, "Just ask her, I know Y/n and she would say yes to a date with you!”

And yes oh yes you think, you would say yes twenty four million, nine hundred and one thousand times if it meant you'd get a date with Spencer.

Sadly he sits down before you get your assurance that he'd be doing so. Effectively hanging up on accident, leaving you wondering if he'd get the nerve before you die of this cold.

But you text him anyway asking him to come over, if he didn't ask soon you guessed you'd just have to do it yourself.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x reader #junipers-archive #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you

440 notes · View notes

amethystfairy1 · 4 months

Text

✨Hello hello!✨

I'm Amethyst (she/her), and I'm your local fanfic gremlin. I've written a lot for a lot of fandoms, right now I am caught in the Hermit/Traffic/Empires brainrot, and if that's how you've ended up here, welcome welcome!

Right now, I have two WIP AUs!

Through the Sky-Blue Cracks 🌤️

My Hot Guy/Cute Guy, Over-City/Under-City AU that has a lot more going on in it now, it's grown pretty big and is organized in chronological order, not by publishing order, so I write up and down on the timeline filling in parts and pieces as I go!

TTSBC takes place in a modern/slightly sci-fi AU with superheroes, biotech, secrets to hide, trauma to unpack, and as much humor as I can attempt to fit in as well!

Features the local superheroes crushing on each other, anxious writer meets intrepid reporter, the drama professors who can't keep their hands to themselves, penpals gone wild, resident middle-aged married couple who happen to be a mobster and a mad genius, the local cottagecore lesbians, bad boy butterfly and cat lady, protective big sister, Zom-Mom and Sentient Glowstick, a very tired Guy-in-the-Chair with a permanent headache, and more yet to be added! I've got lots of plans left for this AU, so if you're interested, please come check it out!

Tags for the AU are:

#through the sky blue cracks

#ttsbc au

#ttsbc ficlets

Traveling Thieves 🪽

My dark fantasy AU! This one has some heavy themes going on, so I'd encourage reading the tags carefully before jumping in! I'm very proud of how it is turning out, dealing with breaking out conditioned headspaces, survival in a sick system, negotiating power imbalance, the power of friendship (no, really), and of course we've got elves, mercenaries, magic, swords, sorcery, rogues, redstone, and lots more fun stuff like that! Also lots of adorable birbs, one traumatized fiery boy, a mer with an attitude, a good doggo, and hurt/comfort galore! Giving everyone a chance to believe that they've all got a shot at getting lucky.

Tags for the AU are:

#traveling thieves au

#traveling thieves ficlets

Amethysts Scribbling Corner 📝

A little side project of mine to try and stretch my writing style!

Once in awhile, I will be running a poll with prompts that have been sent in via reblogs, replies, asks, and messages! Please send some in if you have any ideas!

Whatever prompt wins the poll, I will write and add to the series!

They can be as broad as a simple one-word prompt, or you can even give a brief description of a couple of sentences! Last thing: Feel free to request where you want the fic to take place! Especially when we're talking Hermit/Traffic/Empires stuff, if you want it to be within the Minecraft server world of that specific series, within a certain one of the Life Series, a modern AU, a fantasy AU, or even TTSBC or Traveling Thieves if you have ideas for them! Just know that if anything requested for TTSBC or Traveling Thieves contradicts or maybe overlaps with any future plans for those AUs, I might not be able to accept them 😓

As far as rules go...I do not write NSFW. I am happy to write romance and let things get a little spicy 🔥 but keep in mind I'll always end up fading to black...also no heavy gore, violence, body horror, things of that nature. I am very much a fan of writing whump and hurt/comfort though, so please send those ideas my way!

Tags for the series are:

#amethysts scribbling corner

I think that's all that going on with me right now...so yeah! I use this blog for my scribbling corner prompts as well as asks about any of my AUs or writing projects! I love getting the chance to ramble about my worldbuilding, so by all means, give me an excuse and I will make entire posts about that sort of thing!

Thanks for coming by! 💖

#intro post #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #hermitcraft #traffic smp #through the sky blue cracks #hermitshipping #worldbuilding #trafficshipping #life series #empires smp #traveling thieves au #amethysts scribbling corner

124 notes · View notes

ctitan98official · 3 months

Text

Anonymous: It’s parent’s weekend and Larissa meets wednesdays aunt who’s casually sweeping her off her feet. (figuratively and literally) maybe they’re close in height. masc r

Sweet, I love this prompt! I only write gender-neutral reader, but they will be taller than Larissa because that’s cute. Let’s get into it!

Morticia and Gomez, your big brother, were scheduled to come to Parent’s Day at Nevermore for Wednesday. However, something came up with Pugsley and they asked you to come in their stead.

You didn’t mind. You love spending time with your niece. You get each other.

“‘Sup, nerd?” You smile and hold out your fist to Wednesday when she comes to greet you.

“Not much, loser,” She jokes back (Albeit it her usual monotone) and bumps her fist with yours.

You look around and grimace at how fancy the school is. Places this high-end make you feel uncomfortable. You shoot Wednesday a grin. “No wonder you hate this fucking school, short stuff. Place gives me the creeps and I’m an Addams,” You say.

You can tell that Wednesday is trying desperately not to laugh, hoping to remain stoic. She’s been this way since she was little. It makes you chuckle. “So, what exactly are we supposed to be doing today?” You ask her.

Wednesday shrugs. “They really just want to show off the school,” She says and crosses her arms. “They probably want to rat us out to our parents too.” She is endlessly annoyed that she’s here, but you can’t help but notice her stealing quick glances over at a cute little blonde about her age.

“Who’s that?” You ask and point at her.

Wednesday panics and immediately pushes your arm down. “Don’t point like that, Y/N! She’s going to see,” She snaps, her somber affect once again cracking. She huffs. “That’s Enid. My roommate.”

This time you laugh really hard. “Calling your girlfriend your roommate is a genius cover,” You grin.

Wednesday gasps and punches you in your side.

“FUCK!” You yelp really loudly and hold the spot where she hit you. “Cheap shot, pigtails,” You grunt.

This time Wednesday allows a small, self-satisfied smirk to show.

As the pain subsides and you are finally able to breathe again, the parents and students around you give you dirty looks. You roll your eyes. You almost make a smart-assed comment, but the sound of someone lightly clearing their throat behind you makes you turn. The sight that greets you will forever be burned into your brain. An angelic woman with perfectly coiffed hair and piercing blue eyes fills your vision. She’s the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen… Even if she does look a little miffed about your loud cursing a bit earlier.

However, she soon smiles at Wednesday. “Ms. Addams, who might you have with you?” She asks and looks back at you. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting,” She says and holds out a dainty hand to you.

You quickly take it, and without thinking, lean down to place a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “Y/N Addams. The pleasure is all mine, beautiful,” You say and shoot her a wink.

Larissa feels her heart skip a beat at your suave gesture. You are so charming and good-looking. Damn, why is she nervous? Her cheeks also heat up as she realizes that you are actually a bit taller than her. She quickly decides that this is a nice change of pace. She’s used to being the tallest person in the room, but you make her feel… petite and demure. She likes it. Larissa stands and looks at you wide-eyed for a moment before her brain starts working once more. She shakes her head slightly and flashes you a breathtaking smile. “My name is Larissa Weems. I am Nevermore’s principal,” She says, trying to control her emotions.

You love how her face brightens as she looks at you. “My niece was just telling me about how much she loves Nevermore. Right, Wednesday?” You tease.

Wednesday growls quietly at this.

Larissa giggles at you. Clearly, Wednesday has already told you about how much she hates the school. She hopes that will change, though. “We certainly adore having such a bright student like Wednesday,” She says, offering a friendly smile to the brooding teen.

The principal is so… Warm. You would have expected her to be pretty stuck up and snobby with how drop-dead beautiful she is. But, she’s very gracious. It only endears her to you more.

The two of you don’t realize how long you’ve been staring at each other until Wednesday begins tugging on your sleeve to get your attention. “Let’s get going, Y/N,” She suggests, feeling uncomfortable with how much you are checking Larissa out.

You blush and bring your hand up to nervously scratch the back of your head. “Yeah, you’re right, short stuff,” You say.

“Wouldn’t want to take up any more of Principal Weems’ time,” You say with a grin at the blonde.

“It has been a true delight, Y/N. I hope we might get a chance to speak more later,” Larissa all but purrs. She’s ashamed to think of all of the dirty things she wants you to do to her, but she reigns herself in. She nods politely and excuses herself to go talk to the other families.

You shamelessly stare at her butt as she walks away.

Wednesday sighs loudly at you. “Making fun of me for having a girlfriend? Looks like you just got one,” She says.

“Haha, very funny,” You say and playfully roll your eyes… But, you suddenly realize what she just said. “So she is your girlfriend!” You exclaim.

Wednesday holds up a fist threateningly. “Want me to hit you again?” She sneers.

You quickly hold up your hands to placate her. “Alright, alright,” You concede. You sigh as you shove your hands in your pockets. “Are they going to serve alcohol? I could go for some booze,” You say.

You and Wednesday walk off, unaware of the fond smile tugging on Larissa’s face as she looks at you.

You have a goofy grin as you think of Larissa. What a day. Maybe Nevermore’s growing on you after all.

Masterlist

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #principal weems #larissa x reader #larissa x y/n #netflix wednesday

90 notes · View notes

galactic-magick · 10 months

Text

You’re Not Scary, Johnny: The Spot x Reader

Summary: What if Spot’s family didn’t leave him after the accident? In other words, Jonathan had a spouse and baby daughter and goes to see them for the first time since becoming The Spot.

Words: 1.8k+

Warnings: Some swearing and vague mentions of suicidal thoughts

Author’s Notes: The baby daughter is not specified to be biological or adopted bc I wanted to keep the reader gender-neutral! Also thanks to Julia from The Spot discord server I’m in for suggesting the name Dottie! (haha get it like spot and dot)

Jonathan wasn’t one to immediately give up on anything.

After all, he was one of the top scientists working on Alchemax’s toughest project, full of initial failures and screw-ups. He had numerous opportunities to quit during his lengthy years of schooling and career, but he never did. He was always incredibly self-driven, and having a family in edition to that motivated him to succeed even more. He married you—the most wonderful person in the universe to him, and had a beautiful daughter named Dottie he couldn’t wait to raise with you.

That is, until he woke up on the Alchemax floor that dreadful day, surrounded by debris from the destroyed collider.

He remembers seeing his hands first, ghost white with a couple black spots on each. But they weren’t like a bruise or mole that stayed it place—they were fluctuating and pulsing like dark matter. Convinced he was just seeing things, he tried to rub his eyes, only to feel nothing and instead see his fingers come out through a hole on his leg.

He screamed in terror, pushing his gangly body off the ground and stumbling towards the nearest reflective surface he could find.

“No, no, no-” his voice shook, looking at himself for the first time.

He turns away, too horrified to look any longer. He couldn’t go home to you like this, let alone live any sort of life at all like this. He scans his gaze over the rubble, running to the first intact thing he sees. “I can- I can fix this. There has to be a way to fix this!”

Jonathan wasn’t one to immediately give up on anything.

He got to work searching for anything salvageable from the labs and collider, theorizing and writing equations and running tests for weeks, not that he realized it had been that long. His mind bordered on madness, obsessing over every single detail that could possibly fix him.

“I have to fix this, I have to fix this…” he muttered to himself over and over, voice cracking. Every test and experiment failed day after day, nothing worked. He didn’t want to give up, but maybe this was something not even his genius intellect could fix.

Jonathan wasn’t one to immediately give up on anything—but now he had to.

He slumped onto the floor, wailing into the void of the abandoned building. He screamed and cried as much as he could without having tears, begging to anyone who could hear to be put out of his misery.

His face fell to his hands, or at least what was left of one. His thoughts returned to you, with your sweet eyes and smile he adored so much and the heartwarming memories you’ve shared over the years. You’re his everything, his other half, and everything he’s ever wanted. He thought about holding your daughter for the first time, wanting to give her the world and more.

He couldn’t go back to you like this. He couldn’t even look at himself, so why would you? His daughter would surely be afraid of him and he’d lose everyone he loved in an instant. He couldn’t put himself through that, he just couldn’t. You probably think he’s already dead, might as well let you remember him as he was.

You never thought you’d have to deal with being a single parent. You and Jonathan have an incredibly healthy relationship and marriage, so you figured you’d be together forever. You never thought you’d have the unthinkable happen to you, having to go on after the death of a husband.

Each day gets harder and harder, and everything that was fine or even good before becomes a struggle. You know pretty soon your emergency savings will run out and paying rent will be a problem, and you’ll have to start picking up overtime at work and have to spend less time with the baby. You’re more alone than you’ve ever been in your life, and you still don’t even know for sure what happened.

No one dares stand up to Alchemax, not even after a disaster like this. You had asked Jonathan multiple times to consider somewhere better to work, but he assured you it was the only place he could do the full extent of his work, which you understood. Still, if he had left this wouldn’t have happened to him.

He wouldn’t be dead.

All you want to know is how he died. Was it painful? Was it quick? Was it peaceful?

Every night you lie awake, the questions racing through your mind. Most days you’re thankful that Dottie is not a fussy baby, but sometimes you wish she was so you’d at least have something to distract you.

It’s been a few months since the accident, and Jonathan is still crippled with fear. He refuses to look at himself, covering himself with layers of clothing to get around the city and avoid seeing his own skin. He tries to keep ignoring the voice in the back of his mind telling him to go home, muffling it with the anxiety of being seen by the one person who could completely shatter his soul.

But if he did go to see you, at least he’d finally know. He wouldn’t be left wondering his whole life what you’d say and how you’d react. He might not have the both literal and metaphorical hole in his heart aching for closure forever.

He knows you’re usually home by the hour, the baby probably down for a nap while you have some free-time. He approaches the door of your shared apartment, hand hovering next to the door. He knocks quietly, and hears you shuffling towards it.

“Who is it?” your voice is like honey, and his heart wrenches.

“Please don’t—please don’t freak out, okay darling? It’s Jonathan,”

The door swings open faster than he thought possible, and you fling yourself into him.

“Holy shit I thought you were dead, I-” you sob into his chest, your tears blurring your vision enough that you can’t see him clearly. “They said—they said everyone in the building died from that explosion-”

You pull away slightly, looking him up and down.

“Why do you have so many layers on? It’s super warm out,” you reach up to pull off the mask and glasses over his face, but he stops you.

“There’s something you need to know before you do that,” he says. “I survived, yes, but not without enormous cost. The explosion left me severely deformed,”

You try to fight his grip on your hand, attempting to reach up again, “Johnny, you know I will still love you no matter what. Please just let me see you-”

“No.”

A wave of deep concern washes over your features, “What happened?”

“I-I tried to fix it, but it can’t be fixed. I’m a monster now, I don’t even look human anymore. Somehow my body fused with a black hole I was carrying during the explosion, and now that’s all I am...just holes,”

You do your best to take in and process his words, but you know you won’t truly understand until you see it for yourself.

“I’m going to look at you, okay?” you tell him sternly.

He sighs in surrender, awaiting the inevitable. You start by taking off his gloves, interlocking your fingers with his white ones. He hums at your touch.

“I’m still here, Johnny,” you assure him. Next you unzip and slip off his jacket, revealing his torso and arms covered in black spots. It’s certainly strange, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t, but it doesn’t scare you. The spots look like splotches on an artistic painting, and you already love them.

You decide to wait to take off his pants and shoes, and instead bring your hands to his head. You remove his hat, smoothing your palms over his completely white and bald head. Of course you loved his gorgeous hair before, but you’ll get used to this.

You hesitate your fingers around his face, waiting for a sign of approval.

Jonathan nods, but he grabs your hands once again, “Darling, I literally don’t have a face anymore. You’re not going to see what you want to see,”

“I don’t care. I want you no matter what,”

You rip off his mask and glasses in one go, met with a deep black hole staring back at you.

He sighs again, turning away from your gaze, “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore. You don’t deserve a life married to someone like me,”

“Johnathan,” you scold him. “When I married you I promised to love you no matter what. For better and for worse and all that shit, okay? Sure this will be an adjustment, but I want to adjust with you. I’m just happy you’re alive,”

You watch as his face spot fluctuates in size and shape, and you decide to interpret that as his new way of expressing emotions. You appear to be right, because he quickly pulls you into a tight embrace and whimpers into your shoulder.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he mumbles, his body shaking as he holds you closer and closer, to the point you feel yourself going through a couple of his spots. “But what about Dottie? She’ll cry every time she sees me,”

“You don’t know that,” you say, rubbing his back, tracing your fingers around one of his spots. “Her first word was ‘Dada’ you know. I talked about you a lot to her while you were gone,”

“Really?”

“Mmhm. She can crawl now too. I’ll go get her from her crib, this is usually around the time she wakes up anyway,”

Jonathan slowly releases his grip as you slip out of his arms, bracing himself for whatever might happen. He looks like something from a horror movie, of course she’s going to be afraid. He may have lucked out with you wanting to stay with him, but there’s no promises his daughter will feel the same.

You come out of the bedroom holding her, a bit bigger than the last time he saw her. You place her gently on the floor so she can crawl around, and she doesn’t even seem to notice Jonathan at first, more interested in the toy next to her. She grabs it and sits upright, and then finally sees him.

To Jonathan’s surprise, she doesn’t seem phased by his appearance. She simply cocks her head slightly to the side and stares at him.

“Dada!” she finally babbles, giggling to herself.

“She...she recognizes me?” he asks, in awe of her cute little face.

She continues to giggle, repeating his name over and over. She rolls forward onto her hands and starts crawling towards him, grabbing onto his leg. Jonathan leans down to pick her up, and she flails around happily, settling into his arms and poking her hands into his holes on his face and chest.

“How is she not scared of me?” he says, completely dumbfounded.

“Because you’re not scary, Johnny,” you smile, wrapping your arms around the two of them and kissing his cheek. “You’re family. Spots or not,”

Dottie squeals as if in agreement.

“I suppose so,” he hums, resting his head on top of yours.

Jonathan would never give this up for anything.

#the spot x reader #johnathan ohnn x reader #the spot #johnathan ohnn #across the spiderverse #spiderverse

301 notes · View notes

aealzx · 9 months

Text

Fishing his cell phone from its pocket wedged under his shell, Raphael hit the speed dial for Mikey. The easiest way to check on him was just to call him after all. Especially since they had two additional bases now that he and Leo were taking turns manning for this rotation. That explained why Leo had been caught since the other three weren’t with him. But it didn’t explain why their alarms hadn’t been tripped. Unless Leo had been outside the base on patrol, like he sometimes did when he was restless.

Okay Mikey that’s five rings, pick up the phone-

“You’re speaking to the greatest turtle of all time, hero of the realms, Nexus Champion, Michael Angelo Spliterson.”

For once Mikey’s voice was a welcomed relief instead of a complete annoyance, and Raphael found himself smirking instead of wanting to throttle him. “I’m gonna beat you for that, bozo,” Raphael responded, more on reflex than an actual threat.

“Awww, but Raphy buddy, you’d actually have to win against me for once to do that,” Mikey shot back. Harmless banter at this point. Despite the hundreds of sparring matches they’d gotten into, Raphael still hadn’t managed to win against Mikey even once. But they had saved each other's lives often enough it no longer truly mattered.

“Well get over here then.”

“Uh, I’ll pass,” Mikey declined quickly. “Got the ole second base to watch over y’know. Can’t leave her on her own. What would Don say if I just abandon-”

“I mean it Mikey. Get over here, Leo’s been caught by Augustine,” Raphael interrupted, ton growing completely serious now.

“HUH-?!” Mikey’s outburst cracked over the speaker and made Raphael pull the phone away from his ear. “Whadda you-?? Start with that you-! I’ll be right there!”

The call ended with a beep before Raphael could give a retort, but he just sighed and lowered the phone to tap a different speed dial. They would need their usual backup for this one, and he also had some words to get out. Thankfully this time his call was answered on the second ring.

“Yo Raph, what’s up? Miss me that much?”

Casey. The one that had been with Leo on base sitting duty that night. “Say goodbye to your son, then get back to home base asap. I’m gonna kill you for losing my brother,” Raphael growled simply, then took his turn to end the call without a goodbye. It would be better to talk to both Mikey and Casey at the same time, in person.

Once both people were contacted Raphael slipped his phone back into its place and approached Don, raising a brow as he was mildly impressed once again by how fast his genius of a brother was manipulating his precious computer. Touch screens and a custom keyboard really sped up his process, as did state of the art equipment. Coming to stand at his shoulder, Raphael remained quiet, knowing Don would speak when he formulated his thoughts enough around what he’d found.

Sure enough, it was only minutes of watching screens flashing by incomprehensibly that Don started his report. “Interesting. I ran an analysis for interdimensional breeches, and there’s a significant outlier from the usual comings and goings of people like the Daimyo and the others we’re used to visiting.”

“So…….,” Raphael started, a request for Don to pause and let him catch up with his own thoughts. “Augustine succeeded in creating an interdimensional machine despite us having stolen what she needed for it?”

“Yes…. and no,” Don confirmed and denied. “It wasn’t stable. The bridge between dimensions was quick, and horribly uncalculated. Like a misfire from trying to modify a weapon. I think she was trying something else, and got more than she bargained for.”

“An accident,” Raphael reworded simply, then sighed. “Great. And we still don’t have enough evidence to get her locked up?”

“Not yet. But this might be a tipping point once we get it solved,” Don responded with a mirthless chuckle. If only it were that simple. Augustine was eccentric, and unstable, but apparently still too valuable for the EPF to be willing to let her go. “I’ve got a good guess where she’s hiding out now. Three of the signatures converge at one point, including the one that matches the readings I’ve remotely pulled from our third outpost. And the location is part of our list of potentials.”

“...Texas? Really?” Raphael complained, raising a brow when the location was singled out on the display.

“Yep. Texas.” Don nodded, then caught sight of an entry register on another screen and turned to meet the one who’d arrived.

“Guys! You gotta help me- I think Leo’s gone missing! You gotta help me find him.” Casey’s arrival to the home lair was announced via a stomping run as he shouted his distress, one of Leo’s swords in his hands. “He went off to do a patrol like he does, but then he didn’t come back, and then I went looking for him to come back here, but all I found was his sword thing, and he never leaves that laying around. I think he got snatched! Do you have a tracker or something on him?”

As Casey started to explain his side of the story, Raphael could only fold his arms as both he and Don stared blankly at their friend. It may have seemed like a weird ploy with ulterior motives, but after having spent so many years with the man they both knew that Casey wasn’t faking anything. He just apparently didn’t have two dots connected in his mind just yet.

“....Did you figure that all out before or after I called you?” Raphael asked simply, continuing to give Casey a dry look.

“What? Uhhhhh…… After-.... Ohhhhh,” Casey seemed confused at the apparent unrelated question. But Don and Raphael could swear they could see the dots in Casey’s mind clicking together as he remembered what Raphael had called about in the first place. “You guys already know. Heheh. Uhm….. So where we going?”

Don could only chuckle as Casey sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. Before he could answer Casey the room gained another body as Mikey came dashing in. “I’m here! Let’s go! Bags are packed! Are we flying or driving?” Mikey rushed, stopping to jog in place once he reached the landing the rest were on.

“Hold on, bro. We haven’t even gone over a plan yet,” Raphael chastised, though he couldn’t hold the amusement from his tone.

“You can debrief me on the plane. Or truck. Whichever. Time’s a wasting,” Mikey continued, still jogging in place. “Did you get to talk to him? Or get a picture? Bad guys love sending kidnapping pictures. Does he look- Oh!”

At the mention of a picture Don clicked a few keystrokes to change the view of the monitors back to the video they had received. Catching sight of it, Mikey abruptly stopped moving, turning to gape at the picture. “Woah….. Ohhhh no, the crazy lady grabbed some other poor mutant ninja turtles inste- wait- is that ME? Mini me? He’s so small. But the orange headband is my thing- ohhhhh we didn’t stop her, did we.”

Raph had to snort at Mikey’s reaction to seeing the other two mutant turtles that had been kidnapped along with their brother. Only then did he start moving to comply with Mikey’s earlier prompting to get going. “Accidental cross dimension kidnapping. Is what it looks like anyway. We won’t know for sure until we ask their names once we rescue them.”

“Alriiiight. Time to finally bash this lady’s head!” Casey cheered, rotating his arm with a fist and moving to follow Raph.

“Ah ah. Not you. People with kids under the age of ten are strictly on backup duty, remember? You stay here and keep an eye on April… and Master Splinter since I’m assuming he’ll be on babysitting duty again. Keep them and Junior out of trouble, alright?” Raphael countered, whipping around to poke Casey in the chest and push him back.

“Awwwww maaann. Really? That applies even for rescue missions?” Casey whined, though he didn’t seem too upset about it. He did get to stay with April and their son after all.

“It applies for all missions. Especially breaking into government bases,” Don confirmed, slinging his prepacked backpack over his shoulders. “I’ve already messaged April, she and Leatherhead will meet you here and infiltrate their systems to give us support. Make sure Master Splinter gets to bed on time too, will you?”

“Guhhhhh, finnnee. Just punch someone good for me, alright?” Casey relented, making a show of throwing his head back in a pout. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of your dad too. Just don’t take too long.”

“We’ll be back before you know it,” Raphael assured. “You better not eat all the nachos,” he added as a warning, pointing a finger at Casey as he and the others left the raised terrace.

“Stealth plane Mikey. We’re headed to Texas,” Don directed, taking the lead to their underground hangar.

“Texas?” Mikey repeated, pausing verbally to consider a thought. “You think we can grab any kolaches while we're there?”

___________________

Previous Next (image of bloody mouth)

___________________

03 Mikey is just fine X'D He's just at a different, smaller base.

by the way, the 03 boys are in their 30s for this, if it wasn't apparent from them being scarred up and having more armor and stuff X'D

#my art #tmnt 2003 #rottmnt 2003 crossover #cross dimension kidnapping #tmnt crossover #03 Mikey #03 Raph #i posted this to the wrong blog at first #hahaha X'D derp #long post #writing

229 notes · View notes

dangcheongyuri · 4 months

Text

REPOSTED FROM TWITTER!!

something something the difference in how Cheong Myeong loves Tang Bo, Cheong Mun and Cheong Jin differently in different ways yet they're all ultimately the ones he trusted the most in his past life..

continuation under cut vv

Cheong jin was his sajae, older than him yet he treats him as if he's the younger sibling lmao… he bullies him like how an older sibling would and yet he also fiercely protects him because of how cheong jin is— he's the brains of mount hua. Cheong myeong doesn't love him any less than cheong mun or tang bo. He loves cheong jin fiercely, seen from when he argued with cheong mun when he found out that cheong jin went missing. he would've searched all the mountains and the oceans if it meant he could see cheong jin

It's why he broke down once he found cheong jin!!! Even after so long he had found his sajae, and fulfilled his wish of being buried in mount hua!!! he loves his sajae and wants to be a good sahyung to him!!!!! and he's disappointed in himself that he only found him now!!!

he knew and trusted cheong jin to have those martial techniques that were lost to time because he knew of how protective he was of mount hua's sword techniques. he trusted cheong jin because he knows the other was dependable and one of the only people who remained a constant in his life when he was shunned for being himself or seen as the untouchable saint. cheong jin was there along with cheong mun and tang bo, and cheong myeong was happiest when he was with them because the three were the ones who cared for him the most [teary eyed]

Cheong Mun was a father/older brother figure for Cheong myeong. he was the one that cared for him since he was a child, was the one who watched the snotty little kid grow up to be a talented— and still bratty— adult who was worshipped as the plum blossom sword saint. Throughout it all, Cheong Mun was there. Cheong Mun was there when cheong myeong walked his first steps, when he bloomed plum blossoms from his blade when first handling the sword, was there until his death— watching over him til' the end.

Cheong mun was one of the only people he could trust. as said in the qna; (not word for word ,) when you are shunned out by the world, how do you see the person who lent a hand to you, who continuously defends you? Cheong mun did not sway in staying by cheong myung's side, he was there for his sajae his whole life and he wouldn't stop. out of everyone in the world who shunned him, cheong mun was by his side and unwavering. AND IT MAKES ME CRY!!!! Cheong myung would have circled the world for Cheong Mun, the man who cared for him and guided him.

Could you just. Imagine the person who was with you since you first opened your eyes dying in front of you? to lose such an important person, and then having to live years with that view of them dying in front of you?? the grief of losing the one person you knew your whole life…

Cheong myeong and cheong mun really make me emotional because… even when their relationship did get strained, the love was STILL there. They still loved each other to the end. They might have not been bound by blood but they were bound by the trust and love they have for each other. I LOVE THEM SO BAD

Now…. cracks knuckles. Tang Bo. Tang bo is a different case from the others. Think of it as the difference in how you trust your family, versus how you would trust a friend, or say a partner. Tang Bo, ultimately, was the one who understood cheong myeong's situation the most.

Tang Bo was also hailed as a genius, the dark saint, who was the most proficient in poisons. Neither of them were seen as actual people— they were seen as a figure to look up to, monsters in their own fields. Of course, Cheong mun and cheong jin were one of the closest to cheong myeong, but they can't relate to him as intimately as tang bo does. They understood each other from the heart and soul, could work together in harmony, could predict each other's movement in the battlefield as they protected each other. They knew each other and their techniques better than anyone else. Cheong Myeong trusted Tang Bo with his LIFE. he could walk into any sort of danger when he knew Tang Bo was watching his back. He could be himself with him, not the sword saint, but cheong myeong.

The pure TRUST they have in each other is mind boggling. it was the harmony they had with each other, almost as if you could not have one without the other. Tang Bo trusted Cheong Myeong as much as Cheong Myeong trusted him!!!

I mean, Tang Bo made an entire technique and adjusted his martial arts to protect Cheong Myeong better. Tang Bo loved him to the point that doing something like that was a small price to keep him safe. He cared. Tang Bo, Cheong Mun and Cheong Jin cared for him.

They seek out each other when they need something to make them feel better, seeking out each other because they know the other knows them best and they would give up everything for the other.

They trusted each other so much, to the point that Cheong Myeong would feel secure just by having Tang Bo behind him on the battlefield. it's why he made one of the tang family members stand behind him, because even something familiar— no matter how clumsy, gave him that sense of security again, no matter how faint it is

69 notes · View notes

imagionationstation · 21 days

Note

*Slams open the door to your inbox very, very loudly*

I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA FOR AN AU

But this one is a little bit deranged.

AU where only Donatello and Karai are raised by Splinter and the rest (Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo) were raised by the Shredder. (Or vice versa idk which would be funnier)

It's stupid, I KNOW— but wdnsixjsks—

Just imagine the lone turtle being raised by the opposite side of the other three, accompanied with just as fierce + overprotective older sister who'd drop kick anyone who ever attempt to claim the title as 'Donatello's older sibling'.

Donnie'd be so confused to suddenly have a group of the same species as him suddenly thrusted into his life after spending years of beliving he's the only one— and oh look they're now claiming him to be their brother, how neat.

Karai is NOT happy because that's HER little brother and they have to pry him out of her cold, dead hands.

Leo and Raph would be, "You're our master's daughter and that's OUR little brother", to which Karai would be, ">:0".

Cue to Mikey and Donnie arguing who is older.

I'm not sure about you, but I am also a sucker for (over)protective Mikey. It's a neat concept, one that hasn't been explored much by the fandom— but arhwidnsidnsi.

I just love the purple genius, okay?

This AU is purely crack and self-indulgent at this point hahah.

-Ellestrade

Donnie didn’t consider himself to be a bad son, per say.

Sensei always had a list of rules to keep him safe. Never go down to the ground floor unless the dojo was closed for the day. Never open the curtains because he might be glimpsed. Never go out into the yard unless he got permission or had one of them with him.

And never, under any circumstances, was he to enter New York City.

Sensei was always very careful when it came to his safety. It’s the whole reason that he found a place outside the city for him to grow up, miles away from people, but close enough to the city that Miwa could visit to terrorize socialize whenever she feels cooped up.

Donnie’s never had that luxury, but now he was fifteen.

Fifteen was practically driving age. Fifteen is old enough to be in a high school and get invited to parties that sounded unsafe and rent adult movies behind parents backs and get to buy things at stores or check out books at the library!

He’s definitely responsible enough to borrow some books on his own.

Fifteen is also the perfect age for sneaking out and breaking rules.

It’s not really his fault. It’s the hormone and teenage ritual stuff. He couldn’t help it, probably. That’s what Miwa always says. Sensei buys it sometimes. He goes easy on her. So when Donnie wakes up to a carpeted floor and a splitting migraine, he knows he’s been caught and he’ll need every reasonable excuse that he can get his hands on.

It’s his birthday, anyway. Sensei can’t be too mad.

There are muffled voices around him as he lifts his head, immediately regretting it when pain spikes from his skull and scatters across his forehead. He clutches at his skull, groaning miserably. He’s never had an all-nighter migraine this intense before.

He supposes that this is what Miwa would call a personal problem as remains on the ground, forcing his eyes open to get a read on the situation. He expects to see his father hovering as Miwa goads him into a punishment because the consequences of his actions was never enough for her.

Somehow, his father usually ends up letting him off the hook instead. A perk of being an extinct species that can never see the light of day, he supposes, is endless sympathy points.

Donnie’s greeted with three shells, four blinding overhead lights, five individual weapons, and six eyes, all balanced out by a truckload of confusion. He stares, blinking sluggishly, as one of the turtles announces, “Well, he’s not dead.”

And just like that, this has officially slotted itself to be the weirdest dream Donnie has ever had.

DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT I HAD TOO-

So anyway, feel free to assume that he’s in pain and kidnapped for any number of reasons because I have about twelve different ideas and they are all equal GREAT for the crack AU atmosphere that is in development in my brain.

I’m just imaging a backstory where Shredder fought the Kraang (cause he was hangry or something, who knows) and the turtles (sitting abandoned in the alley, maybe?) are corrupt with mutagen.

Absolutely dumbfounded but not stupid enough to leave the little freaks of nature behind, he (still human) snatches three of them, accidentally leaving one behind.

Hours/days later, Toddler Miwa hear Donnie crying, barely alive and all alone. Obviously, dad and daughter care for him.

Shredder and Yoshi are still human, but neither is on guard for the other. They both think the other remains in Japan.

Their sons don’t grow up hating each other’s guts. They are both trying to leave their past behind. Yoshi is raising his family. Shredder is growing his empire.

So Donnie didn’t grow up knowing he had other brothers because no one knew they existed. Ergo, I imagine Donnie would be confused at first, but after fifteen years thinking that he’s alone in the universe, he’s eager to learn everything about these three fellow turtle mutants in ninja gear. He’s a bit perturbed about the fact that they keep making excuses to keep him from leaving, but he’s not to concerned about it. He has brothers! How neat is that?

And since it’s a crack AU, it would be absolutely hilarious if Donnie seems like this naive, learned soul, who cannot social in the slightest- but the second that the need calls for it, he knows how to use several different type of weapons and can take all the brother down single-handedly. He had fifteen years of no brotherly distractions and a sister who takes training very seriously. Why wouldn’t he?

It’s why he’s not concerned with technically being held hostage. He’s reasonably certain that he can take them. And he proves it when Karai finds him and tries to take him home, only for the brothers attempt to stop him from leaving.

Of course, he always feels bad about his supremely awesome and instinctive skills. He prefers his studies.

No, but your “pry him out of her cold, dead hands” comment made me think that she’d need a reason to feel threatened. If they bond before she finds him, Donnie will begin looking at his older brothers (yes, even Mikey, who adores being able to feel in charge of someone) like, well, eldest brothers, and Karai will sense the change.

And, obvs, be completely and utterly ticked off by it.

Donnie’s spent his entire life admiring her and everything that she does- how DARE she have to share his attention with these three random strangers that literally kidnapped him?!

And his older brothers will all immediately decide that this lost child is theirs’ for one reason or another. And obviously, the safest thing to do when you find a stray mutant like you is to take it home and give it care. Heck, if it turns out to be your brother, even better!

HAPPY FIFTEENTH BIRTHDAY! YOU BELONG TO A GROUP OF NINJA TURTLES NOW, ADOPTED LIKE A LOST CAT! CONGRATS!

33 notes · View notes

sluttywoozi · 2 years

Text

Buy A Boyfriend Part 4

Parts 1, 2, and 3

Summary: A night in the life of you, a stem genius, and your perfect boyfriend, Vernon.

Rating: M (18+) | Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: dry humping, wap reader, fingering, oral f rec., unprotected sex, breeding kink, cockwarming

Reader Notes: stem major, has a vagina and breasts, gets carried by vernon

Vernon’s spinning in his chair, trying to figure out a way to kill time until you call, when he hears the knock. He’s not expecting anyone; his roommate is home for the weekend and their landlord doesn’t bother with them anymore. Maybe they just have the wrong place?

The knock comes again, more urgently this time but still gentle and somehow… cute?

Vernon drops his head back and braces his hands on the armrests of his desk chair, rising to tell whoever’s waiting outside that he has an important call coming.

He’s barely opened the door a crack when you rush through and immediately tackle him. He shuts the door with his foot and somehow stumbles backward to the couch, but you’ve knocked him off balance and he topples over the arm, hugging you to his chest. He’s trying to catch his breath when he feels yours shudder, and tears start dripping down onto his shirt.

Vernon is immediately alarmed. He knows you cry sometimes, especially because of academic stress, but he’s never actually seen it happen and it just might break his heart. Rubbing your back in what he hopes is a soothing motion, he starts gently rocking you, freaking out in his mind.

He goes through the list of what usually makes you cry, and tries to cross them off one by one, using what he knows about your schedule today.

stray animal? no, you were on campus all day.

bad exam? no, you don’t have any tests until next week.

someone got mad at you in traffic? no, you haven’t driven yet today.

Coming up empty, Vernon settles deeper into the couch, deciding to just hold you and let you cry.

Honestly, he’s drifting when you sit up.

You move so swiftly it startles him, and he stares up at you wide eyed while you wipe at the tear tracks on your face. He’s unsettled further when a grin pulls at your lips and you start wiggling your shoulders in the way that tells him you’re really happy about something. Vernon gazes up at you, wanting to give you time to gather yourself but also very confused and a little turned on because your shoulder wiggle had traveled down your body to your hips.

You seem to vibrate with joy before blurting out, “I got the research position!”

Your lips are bitten between your teeth as your eyes scream at him, fingertips pressing into his chest as if you’re trying to impress upon him the gravity of your news.

You don't need to impress anything upon him though, because he remembers every late night dropping food off at the lab for you, remembers proofreading your application and portfolio (as if he’d know if there was a mistake), remembers every selfie you’d sent, Petri dishes in the background, growing things he doesn’t like thinking about.

And he remembers how you’d agonized over whether or not you’d be chosen - you’d known how sought after a spot in the bioremediation lab was and you weren’t sure you’d make the cut.

(Vernon was, though. He knew you’d get the spot just like he knew he wanted to be your boyfriend. Absolutely and with complete surety)

He surges off the couch to hug you tighter, enveloping you in his arms and laughing as he pulls you closer. “That’s so incredible, babe, I knew you could do it! I’m so proud of you. I bet you can’t wait to get your hands on those cultures, huh?”

“I’ve been T-streaking in my dreams for weeks,”you cry, bouncing slightly in his lap.

He feels you pull back and pouts, but allows you a few inches of leeway. You just stare at him and smile, unconsciously doing your happy dance and creating an unfortunate situation for him. He tries to ignore it, returning your sparkling gaze and smiling softly at you. You smile back, cheeks pushed up to frame your eyes and hands pressing into his abdomen.

Vernon’s gonna need you to stop soon though.

You’d been so stressed over the decision that you hadn’t felt up for sex lately, and he’s wound up tight like a coil. He doesn’t mind, before you he was content enough with his hands, but he does miss you. And he misses being close to you. And hearing you and seeing you and smelling you. And tasting you. And-

Your smile turns mischievous, and your dance turns into a grind, your legs spreading wider so you can press down against him. Vernon’s getting hard already, has been on the way there since you launched yourself through the door at him, and one of his hands leaves your back to clutch at your hip.

You’re not stressed anymore, Vernon guesses, and decides to take some more weight off your shoulders. He sits up fully, swinging his legs over the arm of the couch so he can pull you deeper into his lap and down onto his dick.

With your knees spread around him like this, he can almost feel the heat of you through your yoga pants, and he has to remind himself it’s been a little while and he’ll need to take it slow with you.

You don’t agree, apparently, throwing off your shirt and pressing down hard against him, grinding yourself over his hardness.

He holds back a moan, feeling his dick twitch at the pressure and friction, and shifts forward, making sure both of your legs are fully wrapped around his waist before standing up and navigating toward his room.

You gasp, twining your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss, and he breathes a moan against your lips, tightening his hands on your ass and starting to move toward his bedroom.

Vernon has to stop a few times to brace you against the wall and kiss you stupid, his knees too weak to withstand the trembles that hit him everytime you sigh into his mouth. Fuck, he’s missed being with you like this.

Somehow, Vernon makes it to his door, fingers fumbling for the handle, his mind swimming with images and memories of you. He’s fully hard now, pressing insistently between your thighs and pulsing every time your fingers tighten in his hair.

Vernon trips on a stray shoe and tries to right himself, but your combined weight has him falling on top of you onto the bed. He lands hard between your thighs and you buck up against him, making him worry for a second that he’s hurt you when you break the kiss to whimper into his neck.

But you push back, tilt your hips up so he can grind right up on your clit, and Vernon shivers when he notices the wet patch on your leggings.

His fingers pet you softly over the fabric, pressing down where he approximates your clit to be, and he smiles, your resulting whine sounding like literal music.

Pulling away enough to wrestle your yoga pants and underwear down your legs, Vernon lets his eyes rove over you. It’s been weeks since he’s had you under him like this, and there are so many things he wants to do to you, he’s having trouble figuring out what to do first.

You aren’t having the same problem, “Vernon, fuck me.”

“Now?” he blanches, staring down at you with wide eyes.

“No, I was thinking tomorrow,” you mock him, “Yes, now!”

Vernon makes a face at you, mouth scrunched and brows pinching, “But baby, I haven’t even gone down on you yet,” he whines.

You heave a fond, beleaguered sigh, “Okay, fine, but just one!”

He grins, shuffling down your body to hoist your thighs up onto his shoulders, and dives in.

Fuck, you taste good, always taste so good, and Vernon knows he’ll never get enough. He licks into you messily, swiping his tongue from your entrance to your clit then laving it over your folds.

Normally he has at least an inkling of a plan, but it’s like he went feral at the first drop of you tonight, and he devours you with no rhyme or reason to his movements.

Vernon feels a bit guilty, knowing he’s more focused on eating you how he wants than making you cum, and slides a finger inside to give you something to clench down on. You’re a bit tight, but your pussy swallows his finger eagerly, and he sinks a second in too, pushing his tongue into your entrance so he can get a better taste.

You’re already soaking his jaw, his lips covered in you, but Vernon wants more, moves his hand to press a thigh up, hold you open so he can get to every millimeter of you.

Your clit pulses under his tongue, and he sucks it into his mouth, moaning around you when he feels you try to grind against him. You must like the vibrations, your pussy suddenly gripping his fingers tighter, so he pinches your clit with his lips and hums into you.

Your hips jump, your hand shuttling down your body to take a fistful of his hair, sending a lick of heat straight to his dick, making him dig his hips into the bed.

He almost wants to slow down, savor this, because you’d said one but he’s been thinking about this too much to stop now, and slowing down would just torture you both.

Vernon doesn’t want that, just wants to make you happy (and shove his face into your pussy), sucks deeper at your clit and slides in a third finger, curling on every inward thrust to rub against the patch of nerves inside you.

He’s got making you cum down to a science now and doubles all of his efforts, groaning into you and engaging his forearm muscles to grind hard at your g-spot, exclaiming happily when he feels you tighten up around his fingers.

You’re almost there, your back arching and your hips jerking in his hold, and you fully lock up when he moans, “Cum, baby,” into your pussy.

He can feel your wetness gushing out around his fingers and releases your thigh to press circles into your clit so his tongue can catch every drop that seeps out. His fingers spread inside you, opening you up for his cock, and your walls tremble around them, twitching in time with the throbbing of your clit under his tongue.

“You’re such a good listener, babe,” Vernon sighs, pulling his fingers from you slowly and cleaning them off in his mouth, licking a broad stripe up your slit to get one last taste before putting your thighs down and rising to hover above you.

He presses his lips to yours in a soft kiss, brushes his tongue over the seam of your mouth, waiting for you to let him in.

You do, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him down into your body, and Vernon shudders when his dick presses up against his zipper.

Letting go of him to trail your hands down his body, you let your fingers catch on the waistband of his jeans and dip your thumb inside, rubbing over the head of his cock.

Vernon’s not sure he’ll survive this.

The thought sounds in his head with every move you make. He hears it when you yank his jeans and boxers down and tug his shirt off. When you press him back into the bed with a hand to his chest. When you grin and swing a leg over his hips to straddle him. When you press his dick to his stomach and grind your bare, wet pussy over him. When you rise onto your knees and let the head pop into your entrance, your nails digging into his abs and your pussy contracting around him.

Vernon knows he won’t survive this when you sink down, burying his cock in you to the base, whimpering at the sudden stretch. His hands fly to your hips, stabilizing you, and his fingers dig into your flesh when you look at him with hazy eyes and plush, bitten lips.

You’re so hot, and so wet, and so tight, and so perfect around him, and it takes everything Vernon has to not lift you up just a bit more and jackhammer into you from below. He knows he can hit your g-spot with this angle, knows he can pull you down hard enough to grind your clit on his pubic bone, knows he can make you cum like this.

But you’re running the show tonight, so Vernon just squeezes your hips tighter and tilts his head back, enjoying the ride.

And the view, fuck, the way your back arches, your breasts bouncing with every thrust, your face painted with pleasure, your skin starting to glimmer with sweat.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” Vernon pants, hips bucking into you more and more as you get wetter.

He moves a hand to your cheek to feel you blush, smiles at the fact that you’re currently riding him into the sunset but it’s a compliment that makes you shy.

God, he loves you.

He loves you so much, loves you even more when you lean back, bracing your hands on his thighs and arching your spine further, fucking yourself on his cock. Your thighs jiggle every time they smack against his, and Vernon slides his hands onto the soft flesh, kneading and squeezing and pressing his fingers into your skin.

He’s getting close, and so are you, and Vernon asks, “Want some help?” when he notices you slowing down a bit. Your legs were probably tired already after running from campus to his apartment, and he doesn’t want you to strain yourself.

You nod, a breathy yes, please escaping you, and Vernon shifts one hand to your hip to help hold you up. The other moves to glide between your folds, rubbing tiny, harsh circles onto your clit, letting you get used to that stimulation before he starts fucking you.

He slams his hips into yours, tilting his ass up on every upstroke so he can tap your g-spot, pounding into you until your thighs shake. You sag forward, leaning down to press your face in his neck, and he can feel your sighs and moans and whimpers against his skin, the little kisses you lay across his shoulder, the indent of your teeth on his collarbone.

“Fuck, babe, please cum,” he begs into the air, “please please please ple-“

You cry out against his skin, your pussy clamping down on him so tight he doesn’t even want to move, and your wetness seeps out around his cock, dripping down to coat his balls.

It’s more than enough to make him cum, and Vernon moans loudly through gritted teeth as his cock jumps inside of you, bursts of white shooting out to coat your walls, his cum mixing with yours and gathering at the base of his dick.

He keeps you pressed close to him, moving the hand between your thighs to wind around your back instead, wrapping you up in a hug as you both pant into his bedroom.

You shift on top of him, starting to rise, and Vernon panics, grabs your hips to gently pull you back down, asks in a small voice, “Can we just… stay like this? Just for a little while.”

Your hand reaches up to pet his hair, and he can feel you mumble, “Yeah, Vern, of course. Do you think we could spoon though? My thighs hurt.”

He startles at that, hoping they haven’t been aching this whole time, and releases you so you can lay on your side. Vernon cuddles up behind you immediately, sliding his softening cock back inside you, and you both sigh at the feeling.

“I’m so happy for you, baby. I can’t wait to see you come home in a lab coat, you’re gonna look so hot and smart,” Vernon whispers into your hair.

“Thank you, babe, I would’ve gone crazy waiting to find out if I didn’t have you,” he smiles, remembering the many frazzled days shared with you, but frowns when you say, “I’m not sure how often I’ll be able to come here from the lab though, my hours will be all over the place.”

Vernon’s heart sinks when he realizes that his home isn’t yours, wishing he’d had the courage to ask you to move in with him at the beginning of the semester, like he’d wanted.

Maybe he wasn’t ready then, but your lease is up in a month and a half, and so is his. And he might’ve found a new complex that’s pet friendly, affordable, has free wifi, and is within walking distance of your lab. And he also might’ve found a kitten that needs adopting, a little white and black baby with a pink toe bean on every foot but one.

(He also might’ve bought found a necklace engraved with his initials and yours, conveniently set with both birthstones, with a tiny dangling tag that reads the date you first texted him, but he’ll keep that one a surprise)

taglist: @lenireads @confusedbansheee @junhui-recs @burningupp-replies @heeseung-lover686 @favehoshiposts @gyvswhore @jaysawake @1004luvangel @bangchanbabygirlx @Baldi-2 @just-here-to-read-01 @gaebestie @noryyyyyyyyyy @heavenly-mobo @smalliechelle @shuabby1994 @snowgirlfallen @noraehey @swinterr @fr0g-filez @i4kt @dejavernon @onewoowonderboy @awkwardnesshabitat @kpoppingmypussy @coupsgyus @jinsonaz @enhacolor @highkey-fangirling @jaycheoluwu @tinkerbell460

find my masterlist here

join my taglist here

#svthub #vernon x you #vernon x reader #vernon x female reader #vernon smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #svt smut #svt #seventeen #✨emily writes✨

927 notes · View notes