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#not hard either but not overly easy either. i think the only hard bit as figuring out where to go at some points

diagnosedpsychosis · 5 months

Text

Love At First Sight- Jake Seresin

Contains: A little bit of weight/body insecurity from reader, shy/coward jake, just as shy reader, fluff

Description: Jake's been acting a little differently cause he's taken an interest in you and doesn't want you to think he's a jerk. All the while he's too nervous to make a move.

Word Count: 1.4k

___________________________________

Jake didn't know what had come over him so hard that the confident man he was just weeks ago, had been replaced with a coward. He noticed it. His teammates noticed it. Even the bar regulars noticed that suddenly one of the cockiest, loudest, most outgoing men in San Diego had turned into a borderline hermit.

His regular game of darts with Javy had become a once in a blue moon activity. His teasing of Bradley, Bob and Nat ceased the moment they were finished work for the day. Even the usual 6 or 7 beers he'd pound down after a long day had reduced to 2 or 3 at the most.

He had an instinct of knowing when someone was looking at him, like his teammates and would meet their eyes with nothing but a bored stare before they'd look away not wanting to be bummed out by his mood. If only they knew that wasn't how he was feeling at all.

Even tonight, as Jake sits in a corner booth at the Hard Deck, his beer turning warm in his hand, his mouth and the rapid thud of his heart almost betray his exterior as he stares at you across the bar. You're talking to Penny, the easy smile on your face enough to make the corner of his lips twitch as he sits still, imagining all the things he'd say to you if he only had the courage to get off his ass.

Then he feels eyes on him and looks away, shooting a hard look in Javy and Reuben's direction. They both whirl around, turning their backs to him and then he's back to looking at you.

"He looking again?" Penny mumbles, leaning over the bar and grinning up at you. You've been caught glancing around the room again as to not make it obvious you were staring right back at the handsome blond.

"Mmm" You hum, biting on the inside of your cheek to try and stop yourself from grinning like a fool. You glance around again, eyes moving swiftly over him and onto the next person despite the desperate yearning in your chest, begging you to look at him again.

"I don't know why you don't just go and talk to him" Penny leans forward, lowering her tone so that there isn't a chance another guy in uniform hears the exchange. You whine, bouncing your foot like you were trying to get rid of a cramp.

"Have you met me? I'll take two steps and sweat my face off" You've never been overly confident and you had High School to thank for it. It didn't matter that it's been a decade since you graduated, growing up an overweight girl and not dropping the weight until you were in your 20's made you overly receptive to judgement.

You felt better now, more confident and happier, but because you didn't get to experience that bittersweet 'teenage love', you weren't really sure how dates and interest in people being reciprocated worked. Slowly losing weight late when everyone was getting boyfriends, or pregnant or even married didn't help either.

You'd noticed guys flocking to your pretty, skinny friends on nights out, and despite how beautiful your friends promised you were, your weight was the first thing they saw. If you smiled their way you were just the sweet, chubby girl that looked like she'd drank a whole bar empty and didn't know what was in and out of her league.

You'd never really had experience talking to guys, your Dad and brother not included, so the fact a ridiculously handsome man in uniform, that you're sure never would've spared you a glance when you were bigger, had been staring at you for weeks now, made you beyond nervous to make eye contact with him, let alone talk to him like Penny has tried to convince you to do for a while now.

"Well hey, if he doesn't love your nervous sweats then he doesn't deserve you" Penny tried to make you feel better, squeezing your arm before standing back up straight to fix a couple orders from some guys at the end of the bar. Your smile slowly falls from your face and internally you curse at yourself for not having the courage to even just go and say hi.

What you don't realise is Jake's doing the same, beating himself up for becoming so darn weak that he can't stand up, take a deep breath and walk over to you. Flying planes and risking his life were easy, but talking to a pretty woman he's been coming to the Hard Deck every day for 3 weeks purely with hopes of even just seeing? He felt like he couldn't breathe.

But then he watches your exchange with Penny, his heart beating twice as hard when for the first time in 3 weeks he watches the smile he's come to adore slowly fade from your face when Penny turns her back to you. He notices your heavy exhale and the drop of your shoulders. He notices you running the tip of your index finger around the rim of the glass in your hand that you're yet to take a sip of. He notices the slight crease of your eyebrows when you gnaw on your lip, and suddenly... he's never wanted to lift someone's mood so desperately before.

He doesn't give himself even a second to talk himself out of making his way to you, the need to see your smile again all too consuming.

Whatever's on your mind has your full attention, that even when the guy you've been watching for the last 3 weeks sits down on the stool beside you, his knee grazing yours, you fail to notice and keep tracing your finger around the rim of your glass.

Jake didn't know what the hell to say that didn't make him come across as an obsessed stalker, so he tried a humorous take instead. "You know, I almost wore that exact same top today. How embarrassing would that have been if we matched?"

His voice floats right into your ear and you turn your head, sucking in a sharp breath when you realise the person that's just spoken to you, is the same person you're making yourself insecure over. You open your mouth like a goldfish, not knowing what to say as you're still trying to process the fact he's finally spoken to you, before closing your mouth again.

You look down at the obviously very feminine top you paired with plain jeans, and finally his words sink in. Your lips curve up and the moment of internal terror Jake had as you stared at him in silence, washed away.

"Only embarrassing if you pulled it off better than me" Jake's mouth pulls up into an easy smile as he stares right back at you, both completely oblivious to the group of pilots watching the exchange in surprise.

"I find it hard to believe anyone could" The flirtation rolls of Jake's tongue and he can't help grin at the sight of your cheeks flushing as you turn your head away from him slightly, looking ahead. Jake's eyes bounce over your features up close and he wonders how somebody could look so beautiful from afar, and even more mesmerising up close. He regret's not talking to you the second he saw you.

"I'm Jake" He blurts the words, almost like he can't contain them any more. The longer he goes without properly introducing himself and learning your name, the more desperate he becomes to know anything and everything about you. You look back and his eyes are immediately drawn to your lips as they curve up in the most beautifully natural smile.

Sure, he's wanted to kiss you since the moment he spotted you, but right now, as he stares at your mouth and the faint dimple poking at your cheeks, he's never been more content seeing another person happy in his life.

"Y/n" You reply softly and immediately your name is carved and filled with pure liquid gold, in Jake's heart. His heart beats to the letters of your name in morse code. His eyes fill with so much hope as he stares at you, like finding out your name is the greatest gift he could've ever gotten.

And as you stare right back at him, he wonders if telling you he's in love with you before even the suggestion of a first date is too soon.

________________________________________

My first Top Gun: Maverick short. Hope it was okay <3

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #hangman fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine

806 notes · View notes

quickandsilvers · 2 months

Note

Consider: something like this w/Peter.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGed5Ysh5/

Like, Peter gets hurt on a mission and he comes back with just a couple bruises and he's like, "it's just a bruise, I was shot in my costume".

[Cue the touch bit here]

Idk, I'm just,,,,, thinking,,,,, 😳😳😳

A/N- I made this wayyy longer than it had to be but.. sue me? I decided to do Reader/Peter’s introduction too because why the hell not! Also, whats a fic of mine without smut, huh?

Medical Malpractice and Awkward Interactions🔥

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT 🔥

Summary: Many times Peter Maximoff embarrasses himself in front of you, and one time you patch him up… and screw him against a shower wall. It’s standard first-aid procedure, right?

Warnings: slow burn (kinda), pining, blood, wounds, LOTS of sexual innuendoes, Nurse/Patient role-play, handjob, p in v, oral (Peter receiving), dirty talk, grinding, public humiliation, creampie, shower sex

Word Count: 9905

Taglist: @kaismanwich @evpeters87 @pretzel-bunnie (Please ask if you want to be added/removed!)

—————————————————————————

For most of his thirty plus years of his life, Peter Maximoff considered himself as a relatively easy person to get along with. He had friends who were somewhat happy to have him as company, despite his overly-outgoing nature and lack of social cues.

Magda had raised him to the best of her ability, or at least until the damned speedster mutation kicked in at twelve. After school nights of pretend tea-parties with Wanda or playing kick-the-can with the neighborhood children turned into petty-theft and a challenge of sending poor mama Maximoff on the brink of insanity and financial instability.

So yeah, said mutation sorta sent Peter into a boisterous, thieving tailspin. But hey, at least he wasn’t a complete jackass.

He never smoked, never drank, and since joining the Xmen, Peter only stole things from major companies that wouldn’t notice it was missing in the first place; and occasionally the few Rainbow or Jimi Hendrix vinyls that caught his attention passing by. ‘No one’s perfect, prof!’ Peter would tell Xavier as he returned to the mansion, only to be greeted by an unimpressed shake of the head.

And yes, he did pay back the money his mother paid for the local police to keep the mass amount of snack cakes in his basement under wraps. Once again, Peter wasn’t a complete jackass.

But then, he met you. You were a fellow professor at Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Children, and were renowned across campus - if you weren't teaching music theory, you could either be found giving study sessions for students falling behind or making your famed lasagna bake whenever the Xmen came home from a mission - and you were loved for it.

And you were pretty. Like, shit! Hella pretty. Whether it was your skill at engaging everyone in your lectures or your jaw-droppingly gorgeous face, you held the unofficial record for the most loved on campus. Peter, as the school’s physical education teacher, was second place, and for once he didn't mind getting the silver medal.

He'd heard about you in the staff room one morning. All good things. A real glowing report card. Everyone loved you and for good reason, apparently. But you hadn’t met yet.

That was until Peter realized your class was in the morning and an hour before his PE lesson began, so he decided to snoop around to check out if you were as good as everyone said you were.

Arriving at the back of the classroom, Peter pushed his goggles up to his head, tufts of silvery soft hair coming with it.

And there you were in all your glory, sitting back on your desk and waving to everyone as they walked in, the occasional student getting 'Love your new look, Cynthia!', 'Ready for class, Michael?' or a giant grin and the sporadic finger guns.

Okay, so you were kind too. Kind and pretty. Kind and pretty and obviously smart enough to get a doctorate. Though, how hard was it to get a degree in music; what did you even have to know? Def Leppard formed back in ‘77, Neil Peart is the best drummer of all time, blah blah blah. Pssht, enter Peter into an exam and he’d have a degree in lickedey split!

The fact you had devoted your life to getting a music doctorate compelled Peter to wonder what your taste in said music was. Admittedly, he wasn’t so keen on the idea of you lecturing if Charles had formulated the curriculum himself. What did that old man even listen to? Peter found it hard to imagine his higher up rockin’ it out to Journey.. and God forbid- Black Sabbath?!

Definitely not. Xavier would be limited to the likes of Beethoven. Peter's skin crawled at the thought. Expand your horizons, you powdered-wig wearin’ maniacs!

No matter. If you did turn out to be some kind of sonata orchestral devotee, you wouldn’t be able to resist Peter’s charisma and persuasive techniques. Said persuasion would be helluva lot of nagging in your ear until you subsequently cave; and you would, because everyone does. And eventually you would join the light side of the force, and Peter would teach you the music ‘way of the jedi.’

"Hi! Hello everybody!" You greeted cheerfully and stood up, waving your arms around for emphasis. “It’s great to see you all back looking nice and refreshed!”

Peter normally would have snorted in irony. In most cases, an hour-long lecture at six am in the morning wouldn’t have people ready to learn and raring for the day ahead. In Xavier’s literature lectures, one could easily mistake the students to be flesh-eating, grumbling zombies who hadn’t seen a ray of sunlight in a millennium.

However, as he looked around the room from his seat in the very back, the students filing in had almost cheshire grins on their faces, smiling eagerly at your buzzing figure and sitting up straight in their seats.

Peter’s eyes flitted back to you. The bell bottom jeans you were wearing were dark and fit you perfectly, the flare swishing around as you slowly paced around the room. For the first couple of minutes, he didn't hear a thing you were saying because the swaying was far too distracting.

His eyes trailed upwards. A faux shearling collared leather jacket hung off your frame, belt loose at the hem and clashing against your hip when you took a step. You looked like something straight out of the 60s: and Peter was totally diggin’ it.

The zip was undone, allowing a slither of your t-shirt underneath to show the letters “ardbi” peaking out in a red font. His heart leapt. The Yardbirds, nice, and fitting. Right this second Peter’s walkman hummed the tune of ‘Layla’ by Eric Clapton through his headphones. Quiet enough so he could hear your voice, but loud enough so his head could bop along to the instrumental. Shuffling in his seat, Peter adjusted his RUSH t-shirt, as if wanting him to catch your attention so you could strike up a conversation about it.

What would he say if you did? He needed to impress you, stat; before Scott could find you and chat you up with his extensive motorcycle knowledge that seemed to be all the rage nowadays. Pfft. RUSH was cooler anyways.

All in all, you didn't look like the stereotypical lecturer. Your outfit was far from professional attire, but it didn’t matter; the kids loved you.

Peter was addicted to all of you; from the browline glasses on your head to the Mary Janes on your feet. It was comforting.

"I know you’ve all been working so hard this past semester," you began, leaning against the podium casually, your arms folded as you eyed the students. "And the lovely gentleman that is Professor Xavier would never allow this, but I've decided we can allow ourselves a breath of fresh air and watch a film today."

Cheers and excited whispers rang out in the room as the students smiled impossibly harder, rushing to shove their textbooks into their bags so the film could start.

“Now hold on!” Your laugh graced Peter’s ears, holding your hands up to settle the class. “We haven’t yet discussed the film options! How do we feel about ‘Bobby deerfield’?”

Groans and scoffs resonated through the classroom, and a girl with pigtails a few rows in front of Peter spoke out. “You’re not kiddin’ anybody miss! Everybody knows that film is wack!”

You laughed and stood off the podium, moving towards the open window that was letting in a cold draft. “You know me too well, Jubilee. No one likes that film.” You bent over an empty desk to reach over, closing the window and turning the lock to the right “How about The Empire Strikes Back?”

In a moment of total stillness in the classroom, Peter let out a choked-off groan. Whether it was the sight of you bent over a desk or the mention of that god-tier film, he wasn’t all too sure.

Silence.

Peter knew he had royally embarrassed himself yet again when howls and giggles erupted in the classroom, some students convulsing in laughter and others wolf-whistling as you paused, turning to look back at him.

Jubilee turned around in her seat to stare at her PE teacher, ponytails swinging wildly as she covered her mouth with her hand and guffawed. Peter’s cheeks burned.

"Excited for the film are we, Mr Maximoff?" You quizzed, bemused.

Oh, you noticed too. Great. But you knew his name. Cool, less sarcastically speaking. You were both staff members of the same school so it wasn't that outlandish, but Peter’s stomach still flipped nonetheless.

"Yeh.. aha.. Erm- yunno Luke became a Jedi master in this film, right?" Peter blurted out instinctively, his thoughts in overload under your stare. He kissed his teeth and nodded his head in affirmation. “Pretty.. Pretty cool stuff.”

Congratulations, you thirty-somethin’ year old virgin. You have well and truly out-nerded yourself. This chick will certainly be beggin’ for you to burrow yourself between her thighs now.

Peter swallowed, waiting for someone to say something. Literally anything. All he was met with was muffled giggles and snorts echoing around him. He teaches people in this lecture, dim-wit! How were they gonna respect him and do laps in his classes now, O’ Jedi Master connoisseur?

You grinned sweetly, amused, silently waving your hand for your students to quieten down "Thank you for sharing that, Mr Maximoff, truly. Although I have seen this film before." You nodded in acknowledgement to his RUSH shirt and then returned your focus to the class before Peter could word vomit anything else.

You began to ramble on again. It made sense. Why would you pay attention to him when you had a job to do?

What could he do? Embarrass himself further by standing on his desk and demanding that you have a conversation that ends with you saying, 'Wow, Peter, you're so smart and fast and criminally handsome. Would you like to go to a record store so you can continue to impress me with the sheer amount of knowledge you have stored inside that adorable silver-haired noggin’ of yours?'

A mumble still traveled across the class, primarily because one of their teachers is a raging airhead, but you shushed them quickly by clapping your hands together. It was a casual movement, but one that got everyone's undivided attention again.

"Can anyone guess what year it came out?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the blur of a hand go up but you weren’t going to call on them, and so, Peter was left with his palm awkwardly facing towards the stage. You reiterated your question, "Can any of my students take a guess? Mr Maximoff, I'd appreciate it if you could give my class at least 2 minutes so they can discuss the answer."

Peter’s hand lowered slowly and he narrowed his eyes at the person snickering next to him.

“Don’t make me give yer extra laps next lesson, Christopher, the weather forecast ain’t lookin’ so good fer this Friday.”

Christopher abruptly stopped and faced back to you.

Once again, silence met your question until it was broken by a timid voice. A boy in the front row with curly brunette hair was looking at you unsure. You smiled encouragingly and nodded for him to speak up louder.

“1980?"

"Like always, Bobby, you are correct!" You exclaimed happily. Bobby blushed, embarrassed by the attention and compliment but smiling nonetheless as you moved on to another question. "The film came out in 1980. Does anyone know who it starred? Don’t be afraid to speak up!”

The film started soon after and for the entire time, Peter was completely transfixed by you. You leaned against the door and peered up at the projector screen, a smile on your face as you snuck a few handfuls of popcorn out of Bobby’s grasp as he watched the film intently. He now understood the enthusiastic compliments from the staff room, and why you were so loved by everyone. You were infectious.

He couldn't help himself, Peter found his eyes wandering over every part of your body, studying every inch of you before he'd had the chance to properly comprehend that he was being a creep. Appreciating beauty was one thing, leering at women he hadn't met before was another. Keep it in your pants, Maximoff.

As the students piled out of the lecture hall, all chatting loudly as they walked out, Peter waited. A group of girls surrounded you and asked you a bunch of questions, and you answered them all like you were their cool older sister rather than someone who was paid to teach them things. Then they left too, and you were alone.

"Did you enjoy the class, Mr Maximoff?" you asked kindly, a smile tugging at your lips as you turned around slightly. You sat on top of the nearest desk and folded your legs under yourself, resting your elbow on your knee and your head on your fist.

Blinking, Peter froze before nodding vigorously. So vigorous, in fact, that his goggles slid from his head down to the apex of his nose. He huffed in irritation and the exhaled breath fogged up his lenses completely. Peter bets he looks so irresistible right now.

Say something- think of something fast, moron! Isn’t that your whole gimmick? Impress her with your natural God-given charm!

Who are we kidding, this is Peter Maximoff. Master of the Jedi’s and embarrassing silences.

He wiped his goggles with the end of his shirt "I would think a music teacher would be lecturin’ about music, not films.. But yes, yer were- the film was.. very entertainin’."

Shit. Your lip twitched. Did he do somethin’ wrong? Of course he did- he just insulted a Professor’s lecturin’ to their face, ewok!

"You're a professor of...?"

"Err, I teach PE.. yunno.. I just make the kiddos run laps ‘n kick a ball around, basically." No shit, doofus! Maybe stop mansplainin’ what workin’ out is and apologize? “Fuck i’m so sorr-”

You cut him off with a simple wave of your hand, that gorgeous smile of yours decorating your face once again. “It’s alright, honest!” You say, observing his exasperated look as his mouth parts, ready to apologize “Jean told me that your mouth moves faster than your brain sometimes, I don’t take any offense to what you said.”

Peter sighs, relieved yet processing your words. “So, uh..” he hesitated, an awkward yet boastful smirk building then “Yer talk about me? All good things, I hope.”

You felt a heat rising to your face immediately and you looked around the room to avoid his intense stare, your eyes falling to another window you had yet to close. The cogs in your head turn and you whip around to face Peter, fanning yourself with your hand and beginning to shrug off your jacket. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” You faux panted, moving away from him to open the window like you needed a cold breeze.

Peter watched as you bent over, much closer now and able to see you from straight behind. His eyes grazed your body with a suggestive smirk.

“Just you, babe.”

Okay, babe?! Not helping your flushed state, at all!

You muffle your sputter by coughing, turning around once again and sitting on the desk. You watch as Peter walks up to you, standing close enough that his thighs force your legs a little wider around him.

The silence is unbearable, so you break it. “I mean, of course I've mentioned you once or twice, dude!” You chuckle nervously, “It’s hard to miss someone that looks like you speedin’ around the mansion.”

You register the confused shift in his gaze and now it’s your turn to run back on what you said, jumping in realization and your knee knocking into his trouser-clad outer thigh. “Not that you look weird in any way! I just meant the whole ‘silver’ aesthetic is totally bitchin’! And obviously I’ve heard about that whole Apocalypse fiasco in ‘84. It was really brave, what you did, and I can’t help but thank you for savin’ the whole world.. and whatever..”

You trail off as you babble yourself into a frenzy, Peter’s delighted grin humiliating you further as he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Thanks, babe.” You let out a shuddery breath. Again?! Where was this confidence when he was making a fool out of himself not just a minute ago?

Peter gave in at your pleading gaze and stepped back, a sheepish smile on his face as he looked down to the floor, shoving his hands into his pockets. He swayed back and forth on his heels. “I better go anyway. Places to be, worlds to save.. Y’know how it is, babe.” The uneasiness on his features left as soon as it came, now replaced with a cocky smirk and a sly wink.

“Well, if you come back in one piece, maybe we could, I dunno, go out for a movie or somethin’?” You ask apprehensively “since you seem to like Star Wars so much.”

“Y-yeah!” Peter said almost too quickly, clearing his throat before gathering his thoughts and masking the elated grin battling to appear. “I mean, only if yer gonna be makin’ that lasagna, right?” He quipped, stomach rumbling at the thought.

You nodded in answer, grinning. “Just come stop by whenever you’re free and we’ll figure out a date, yeah?” Your eyes widened. “I mean date as in time!”

Peter wiggled his eyebrows again, speeding to the door and saluting you before making his way to the training room, fistbumping the air. Fuckin’ score!

For the remainder of the day, Peter couldn’t keep his mind off of you and the promised movie date you were set to have after his mission, uncontrollably vibrating in excitement whilst boarding the X-jet the day after.

“Promise me you’ll stay safe, yeah?” You ask him, standing on the runway as you smooth out the wrinkles in his uniform, your palm flat on his chest.

A broad grin spread across Peter’s face as he placed his own hand above yours, running his thumb smoothly over your skin.

“Don’t worry about little ol’ me, ‘kay? A promise is a promise, sweet-cheeks.”

——————————————————————————

Peter’s not a jackass. He would never intentionally go back on his word.

But that was a pretty damn hard promise to fulfill.

As soon as the jet landed four hours too late, Peter crashed into the living room couch, ignoring any questions of passers by for medical assistance. He practically melted into the linen cushions, exhaling deeply.

The kid previously sitting on the couch scowled as Peter stretched himself across the furniture, waving the younger student off with his hand. “I’m an Xman, I have the authority here.” The cushions muffled Peter’s grumble.

All in all, he wasn’t that hurt. In reality, the mission was fairly easy-going. Peter was barrelling through an evacuated suburban village, rescuing any stragglers that had found themselves lost or stuck under rubble, whilst the other Xmen dealt with arresting the rogue mutant. Blurs of grays and browns passed him at rapid speed as he did one last sweep of the area, confident in the fact that all people had been safely vacated.

Leaning onto a particularly large mound of debris, Peter swung his leg in boredom, waiting on Charles to give him the go-ahead to start the X-jet back to the mansion. The wind picked up, sending his tufts of hair back and away from his forehead.

Abruptly, a flurry of white flew into the air, startling Peter as he whipped around, ready to attack.

The sight wasn’t as menacing as he thought, though. Small seeds dispersed across the terrain, each carrying a bundle of fluffy white bristles in its wake. He looked down to the sparse grass and was met with a patch of green stems, like a blossom without its petals. Peters brows furrow. What a funny lookin’ flower.

Crouching down, Peter plucks the base of a stem with all its remaining puffballs, cupping his hand in the direction of the wind so it wouldn’t fly away. He grinned, standing up again and inspecting it. It looked peculiar, and rather outlandish. Just his style.

He was halfway through tucking the flower carefully into his back pocket before something slammed into him, sending Peter tumbling into a jagged pile of rubble and fragments of serrated wood.

Motherfucker! He groaned, feeling a searing pain shoot through his stomach. A pile of dust shot up into the air almost comically, leaving a tangy taste on his tongue. Bleh. With feeble limbs, Peter lifted himself onto his elbows, looking down from his cracked goggles to shakily unzip his uniform halfway, revealing a hefty patch of crimson fluid staining his white undershirt. Scraps of wreckage tore holes through the fabric, revealing shallowish wounds littering his chest and stomach. Fuck!

Peter blinked slowly, turning his gaze to try and detect who or what had struck him. Just to the right of his aching body, a sizable slab of concrete stuck out of the ground, that had presumably collapsed from a nearby building.

How fuckin’ embarrasin’! Peter was probably gonna scar from this incident, and he would have to tell people the ‘heroic’ tale of how it went down? That he was assaulted by a chunk of rock? The students barely respected him from the whole classroom debacle with you the day prior; how were they ever gonna treat him with high regard now?

That’s right. You. How were you gonna react when he tells you? ‘Oh, How am i doin’, sweetcheeks? Thank yer for askin’, i got a real wild story fer these battle scars. What was it, ya ask? Hand-to-hand combat with buildin’ material. Sexy, right?’

Yeah, no. He had already embarrassed himself enough around you.

Once he had been strapped back into his seat, with the help of Hank, Peter now had to endure two hours of throbbing pain, and Scott giggling next to him.

Peter slumped into his seat, whining into his dust-cracked hands. “What the fuck am I gunna tell her, man? I can’t keep on embarrassin’ myself like this!”

“Don’t worry too much, dude, you’ll forget about this in no time.” Scott assured, smiling and placing a hand on his shoulder, before screwing his face up and wiping the dust frantically on his sleeve. Peter hummed, albeit confused. When was Scott ever the one to give Peter actual reassurance?

“All in all, it’s just another brick in the wall, man.” Ah, there it was. Peter slowly turned to face Scott, deadpanning and watching the boy’s shoulders shake from silent laughter.

Scott shrieked as Peter shook his head like a wet dog, showering his best friend in a flurry of dust.

Once the flight had come to a halt, Peter limped through the mansion's corridors, hobbling to the living room couch as he was in too much pain to climb the few flights of stairs to his room.

Peter grumbled into the couch, eyes hooded as he melted into the material, ready to fall asleep.

And then you came barreling into the room. Peter sat up as you rushed into the room, nudging him into the back of the couch and placing your knees either side of his quivering hips, clutching his face. Peter really wished he had showered now.

“Take off your shirt.” Come again? Were Peter’s wounds making him hallucinate some filthy apparatition?

He blinked. “Eh?”

“When did you get back? No one told me you got back and I've been worried like crazy. You were four hours late, Peter!” You stressed, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide. “Kurt told me you were injured! Did the mutant hurt you? He said you went flyin’ into rubble and practically got impaled!”

You were speaking in such quick succession that it had impressed Peter by your pace. He merely blinked once more, too caught up with your smooth hands against his cheeks and your frantic words. You were worried about him?

“I’m fine, babe.”

You glance down to his stomach, however you couldn’t see much of anything due to the dark hue of his uniform. “I can’t believe you were impal-”

“Not that I don't appreciate yer concern fer me babe, but 'm fine.” You glared at him “Honest! It’s just a few scrapes. Nothin’ i can’t handle.” he grinned, attempting to ease you up a little.

Despite Peter’s best efforts, you still seem just as on edge as before. Taking your hands off his cheeks, he whined at the loss of warmth, chasing your touch. Instead, you reach down to grasp hold of the zipper at the top of his ensemble, zipping it down to just above his hips. His mouth makes a small ‘o’ before contorting into a lazy smirk, glancing up at you.

“Easy there, tiger.”

A glimpse of his stained undershirt tells you all you need to know. You meet his gaze anxiously as Peter gives you a guilty grin, shrugging his shoulders at being called out. “Okay, maybe it’s slightly worse than i let on but-”

“Take your shirt off.” You urge imperatively, and he flushes.

“I dunno babe, I'm like, supeerrr sore. I don't think I can do it by myself, yer gonna have to help me.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. It was blatantly obvious Peter was flirting, any common idiot could tell. But he looked pretty beaten up, and you were mostly sure that moving him around too much would not feel too great for the speedster, so you obliged.

You lift his shirt up in gradual intervals, keeping your focus on the garment as he grins straight at you, clearly wanting to catch you peeking a glance at his body.

“Normally I'd be buyin’ yer dinner before showin’ off the goods… but-” Peter cuts off as you peel the shirt away from one particularly deep wound, the skin sticking to the material. You whisper apologies, lifting the shirt off his head and discarding it to the side. You glanced back down.

Peter noticed your blatant staring and looked up at you, tilting his head to the side. "So are you goin’ ter look me up and down like that ‘er are yer gunna patch me up?"

“Shush, ‘m not looking at you like anythin’!”

“Mhm, sure yer weren’t sugar.” He beamed. You redden, his thoughts transmitting like a beacon through his facial expression.

“Dont make this sexual..” You mutter, avoiding his gaze as you look around for the medkit you brought with you. Peter follows your movements with his gaze, head leaning back to rest of the edge of the couch whilst you shuffled about the room.

“Now what fun would that be, hm? Can’t I enjoy some attention from a beautiful woman like you?”

With the supplies you return to your earlier position, standing over his shirtless body and desperately trying to keep your thoughts at bay.

Finally taking a closer glance, you see his wounds, shallow, but littering his stomach and chest. There was a fairly large but not too serious cut on the right side of his abs and you lightly gasp, your fingertips reaching for it. “Can I touch you?”

Peter groaned “Ooh, yer can touch me anywhere yer want sugar.”

Choosing to ignore him, you open the first aid box with a satisfying click, taking out a roll of bandages, cotton pads and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, placing it down on the couch next to you. As you do so Peter takes a deep breath, letting him savor the scent of your perfume before the alcohol’s smell eclipsed it.

“So are ya my nurse now?” Peter observes “Kinky. Didn't know yer were into roleplay, but i'm not gonna lie, im kinda diggin’ it babe.”

You choke, smacking his arm. Too far, maximoff.

Peter winces, “Hey! Do ya hit all yer patients? This is medical malpractice right here! I was just sayin- this is like the start to every porno ive ever see-” he hisses as you press down the alcohol soaked cotton pad on his wound.

“Sorry, this may sting a little.” you say half apologetically.

“Well it don't mean anythin’ if yer warn me after, babe!” He whimpers, reaching to grab your hips for support from your position above him. You suppress the urge to rut into his lap, continuing your cleaning as you feel an onslaught of slick ooze from your core. You tried to keep in the sigh, but it fell so easily from your mouth at his touch.

“Ouch. Ow. Ow, ow oW OW!! Babe?! Does the word ow mean anythin’ to yer? Ye- agh-OW!” Peter shrieks, and you wince at the voice crack “Jesus christ! Who taught yer how to tend to people’s injuries? A construction worker with a jackhammer? OW!”

Despite his clear pain you stifle a laugh, swiping more gently this time. “It’s all part of the process, Peter. I’m trying to help you here.”

“Oh really? Are yer tryna help me or finish the fuckin’ job, babe?!”

A moment of tranquility passes, and just before you think Peter will stay quiet and let you get on with your work his voice drops, a sultry tone now teasing your ears. “I've got ter say babe.. when I pictured ya with yer hands roamin’ my chest, the wound was conspicuously absent.” You failed to keep in your reaction this time, a shuddery whimper leaving your mouth as you tense. Peter bites his lip, grin impossibly wide and his hands snaking around your hips.

You feel him pull you in closer and you oblige, facing him as you sit down onto his lower thighs as carefully as you can, not wanting to cause him any further strain. He grins.

“Okay, one more cut to clean and I'm done, yes? Then you can be bandaged up.” Clearing your throat, you await his response.

Peter inhales, screwing his eyes shut in preparation “M’kay, ‘m ready. Jus- FUCK.” You press the cotton ball onto his wound, watching as his muscles tense up and he grips onto your hips for support. Chewing on his lip in anguish, his head throws back once more. You refrain from looking at his adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat.

His tight grip on your hips loosen after a minute and you hum, proceeding to unravel the bandages and wrap them around his torso.

Peter looks at you seriously for a moment, breaking the silence in a much more apologetic way this time. “ ‘M Sorry about blowin’ the whole movie thing, I know yer wanted to go out after i got back.. I guess this will have to be our version of a first date, huh?” He chuckles half heartedly, but his eyes oozed regret and mourning for your date to the theatre.

You move a slither of hair out of his eyes, smiling. “I don't mind either way, we could always go out another time, yeah? And no one predicted you were gonna get hurt like that, it’s not your fault, Peter.”

“Yeah, thanks babe.” your heart clenches as his dimples show through his toothy smile.

Clearing his throat, Peter’s large hands splayed across the small of your back, sliding you from his lower thighs to be flush against his crotch. He grins cheekily as you gasp, feeling his semi hard cock through the soft material of his unzipped uniform.

Hands laying to rest on his bare shoulders, you smooth your thumb over his collarbone. You move your other hand down from his left shoulder, your fingertips grazing down his arm before reaching his hand. Gently coaxing his grasp away from your hip, you interlace your fingers, clasping them together as his other hand frames your jaw.

“Hey.. uh, I think I might have a little scratch up here on my lip. I don't s’pose yer would be interested in checkin’ it out, doc?” Peter’s sweet, chocolate browns shed a spicier shade when he captures your gaze.

Your body answers before you can talk, tongue wetting your lips, leaving him in suspense for a moment.

You faux sigh in thought, “I guess I can’t leave a patient suffering. It would be medical malpractice, and I always make sure my patient gets the care he deserves.”

Peter’s eyes dilate then, and you begin to question whether or not he was joking about the roleplay kink. Alas, you had no more time to ponder as he didn’t waste a single second, bumping your nose against his before seizing your lips.

Kissing him sensually, your tongue swims smoothly against his as you move to scrape your fingers across his scalp. Whining in response, Peter’s head lolls back at the stimuli as you nibble his lower lip. You could feel Peter’s cock twitch and you grind slowly against it, eliciting a filthy moan from his mouth into yours.

As you swallow and get over the initial wave of adrenaline, a bitter and rather tangy taste invades your mouth, forcing you to pull back as Peter chases your lips. You place a hand to his chest, breathing hard and scrunching your face up. “Bleh!”

Peter’s half lidded gaze snaps back open as he observes your clear disgust, swiping his tongue over his own lips in questioning. “Uh- yer.. yer alright over there? I know ‘m sorta outta practise but-“

You swipe your thumb over your lips, noticing a few specks of dust covering them. Peter notices and brings a hand to his forehead, slapping himself at his idiocy.

“Shit! Sorry, babe. I totally just crashed here when i got back, forgot about the whole.. grime situation.” Peter grimaces, cursing himself under his breath, “Way to kill the fuckin’ mood, Maximoff.”

To his surprise, you only lean in closer, batting your eyelashes at him. “Patients have to be clean before assessments can begin. Standard procedure. I hope you don’t mind if I scrub you down?”

Your sultry voice forces a heat to pool in Peter’s belly, and he chokes on his own groan, pupils dilating further.

Fwip. You don’t even get the chance to scooch off his lap before Peter had you in his bathroom, shirtless and with his navy uniform dangling around his v-line. Another Fwip and Peter turned on the shower before pulling your back against his chest, tugging at your t-shirt as a silent plea of desperation and unbridled horniness.

Your mouth parts as his head dips into your shoulder. You swore you could hear the faintest of whimpers leave his mouth as he tenderly kisses your clothed shoulder, his lips humming small vibrations of aroused distress.

What choice did you have but to comply?

As you turned around, undressing yourself before him, Peter’s eyes drunk you in, his eyebrows twitching and his teeth sinking into his lip at your little strip show. Down to the last few articles of clothing, you removed your underwear slowly, a thread of wetness connecting your pussy with the soaked fabric.

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered, his hands quivering as you then slung your t-shirt somewhere around the room, eager to surge forward and grasp at every part of your body.

You smiled, flattered yet unsure of what to do, your eyes too preoccupied with Peter’s uniform, of which was slowly sliding down his hips, revealing the black band of his underwear.

“So.. nurse, I think 'm ready fer my physical.” Peter chuckled, observing proudly as your breathing sped up rapidly, gazing at his torso.

“Need any help undressing?” You asked, motioning to his bandaged chest and bruised arms. “It must be sore.”

“Yes please, nurse.” Peter replied flirtatiously, maintaining his character as patient. You stalk over to him, getting on your knees as you start pulling his uniform and boxers down as slowly as possible without Peter getting frustrated. As you do so, you notice his painfully hard dick slapping upwards from its confines. Smiling, you innocently glance up at Peter’s blushing state, inching forward as if you were about to…

Peter’s cock twitched and he gasped as you surged forward, only to completely pass where he needed you most as you teasingly peck the inside of his thigh, eyes still boring into his own.

“C’mon babe.. That ain’t playin’ fair.” A mix between a whine and a growl left Peter’s throat as you stood up to face his pleading eyes. Taking his face in your palms, your soft lips tease him by brushing against his lips, but not yet giving in to kissing him.

“I think It’s best if I check your temperature orally first.” You mumble. Capturing his lips roughly, your kiss turns into a wet, dueling passion. As you battle for dominance, Peter kicks off the clothing pooling around his ankles, guiding you backwards and into the awaiting shower.

Hot water cascades over you as he pulls you close again, diving in for another heated kiss that you’re all too eager to return.

You have no idea how long your tongues swirl around one another, but eventually a hand grips your wrist and tugs you away. You go easily, and when you look up at Peter, he grins giddily and places a bar of soap in your hands. You lick your lips, this time no longer unwelcomed by the taste of dust and plastering, but of Peter.

The room becomes stuffy as the water from the shower starts to get hot. You sigh as the hot water caresses your skin, or maybe it was from Peter running his hands over your body. They stop on your breasts before gently squeezing them, looking down at you with a dopey grin. You throw your head back as the water runs over your chest.

As Peter prodded and squeezed your tits like they were some new gadget you began the slow, worshipful task of running your soapy hands across his chest, making sure to leave the bandaged areas alone.

"I would really appreciate it if you communicated every ache, any pain that needs tendin’ to, sir." You say, moving to whisper the words in his ear sweetly, the filthy undertones dripping from your tongue.

Peter pauses briefly before managing to regain control over himself, grabbing your arm and pulling you impossibly close. He nuzzles into your neck as he whispers back in a playful manner. "I've got one in a specific place. Maybe yer could help me by usin’ those magic hands of yours, doc?"

"Mhh, or do you need me to kiss it better, Peter?" You tease, licking your bottom lip suggestively before biting the plump flesh with a wink.

Peter’s face turns into a huge blush and his heartbeat starts accelerating even more as he watches you move in close, staring into his eyes. His mind goes absolutely blank and he can only stare at you in shock. His breathing becomes heavier as he looks at your lips and how you bite them; and with that a strange flurry of stammers leave his mouth.

“Nghnaawhaaaaat?”

"Peter? Can you show me where it hurts, honey?" You continue to tease him with a pout. God, you were such a fuckin’ brat.

He can't help but feel both embarrassed and surprised at how forward your question is. He clears his throat "Uh... R-Right here, doll..." He says in a nervous manner as his blush deepens even more, then he points at his twitching cock. You follow his line of sight and smile, watching as beads of pre-cum drizzle out of his tip.

"Aww, poor baby. How long has it been hurting?" You furrow your brows, a mischievous look in your eyes as you place your hands on his chest, traveling downwards.

Peter looks at you with a shocked expression for the fifth time that night, tilting his head much like a puppy as he watches you in awe.

Shiit... Are you really doing this? It’s a good thing you didn’t fully embrace the doctor-patient performance with a stethoscope and all, because you’d certainly be worrying about the freakishly-fast roadrunner beat Peter’s heart was jammin’ to. Fuck.

"Do you want me to kiss it better, baby?" You quiz sweetly.

Peter starts to feel his breath getting heavier as his heart is racing faster, wayy too fuckin’ fast. "Ah... Y-Yeah..." He replies softly, still feeling his face turn into a brighter red as he slowly nods.

Every nerve in his body went on high alert as Peter watched your fingers close around his aching cock and move over the swollen flesh. A tortured gasp escaped his lips, and he threw his head back against the shower wall, panting; it felt so good, your smooth palm creating a delicious friction. He thrust forward into your hand, wanting you to continue, his shame at being naked and aroused gone entirely.

Your face was still close. Close enough to observe his face, fascinated at the raw sensuality flickering across it. Drops of water freckled Peter’s cheeks and forehead; you weren't sure if it was the spray from the shower or his own sweat. His mouth was open slightly, and his rough breathing was causing yours to speed up as well. You smoothed your hand back down his wet length and drew the other hand down to cup his balls.

Peter hissed loudly and pushed his hips forward again, cursing. You couldn't tear your eyes from his profile; he was flushed, his lips dusky and moist, the silver of his eyelashes standing out against his fevered cheek. Simply delectable, and you wanted to have a taste.

The touch of your lips on his neck brought Peter to the surface as you pressed your breasts to his chest, your lips everywhere. They ghosted over his collarbone, shoulder, neck and jaw before closing over his earlobe. He moaned, turning, seeking out your lips.

Peter's eyes opened as you released your hands from him. In no time Peter had locked lips with you once more, in a clash of teeth and moisture; whether it was spit or water you weren’t entirely sure. He raised his hands to your breasts at the same time your tongue parted the seam of his lips, and the two of you moaned together before fusing your open mouths.

Your eyes fluttered closed as Peter ground the raised centers of your nipples into his large palms, then rubbed a thumb over each in rhythm. Your initial intentions were to tease the ever-loving shit out of the speedster, but you couldn’t but melt into a puddle at his tender touches.

Peter’s erection was pressing into your belly, hard as steel. You ground against it, wanting it lower and inside, quickly losing your intention to mess around. Abruptly breaking the kiss to breathe, you quirked an eyebrow at Peter. "So, have you made up your mind?"

"Wha-?" He was adorably confused, his pupils dilated in the shadowy light. You grinned and reached between yourselves to stroke along his cock lightly, picking up the trickle of pre-cum on his cockhead and rubbing it around the smooth, ragingly red area.

Lightly pushing Peter back under the full spray, you sank to your knees in front of him. Handling him gently, you sucked the tip of him into your mouth, savoring the much nicer tangy sensataaion.

"Oh Fuck," The speedster moaned on a sharp inhalation of breath. This was progressing past the realm of sweaty-palm fantasies and straight into the embodiment of every pornographic dream he'd ever had; only those dreams had never felt quite so hot.

Your mouth was liquid fire over him, your tongue circling and teasing, making him grow even larger.

He resisted the urge to grab your head and thrust into your mouth like he had seen in the pornos, giving you free reign over his pleasure. Instead Peter coursed his hands through your damp hair, giving you wordless pats of praise when you traced up a particularly sensitive vein.

Already weak at the knees from your mouth, Peter nearly shot when he looked down and caught you watching him with feverish eyes. The image was so blatantly erotic, he couldn't help but complete it by curling his fingers deeper into your hair.

The slight jerk of his hands on your scalp told you that Peter was close to going completely out of control. His slight grunt and increased participation, in turn, increased your enthusiasm. Releasing your grip around the base of his cock, you tried to take him deeper. This you had tried before with varying amounts of success, usually gagging as the overzealous recipient tried to choke you.

However, with an untried Peter, you were having a great deal more success with the technique.

After figuring out how to time your breathing with the motions, you crept forward and began in earnest, taking Peter in until your nose touched his silvery pubic hair. His hands tightened again, and this time his whimper of pleasure was louder, needier.

He was so close, water pounding his chest, blood pounding in his ears, lips, tongue and friction at the center of it all.

Nearly mindless now, searching for that sweet release, Peter thrust forward a bit, searching for the movement that would send him over the edge. When he encountered no resistance from you, he thrust his hips in rhythm with your mouth until he could take no more.

You could feel Peter's flesh tightening and knew he was ready to blow a load. He tried to push you away before he let go, but you gripped the back of his thighs tightly and sucked hard, an explosion of cum shooting down your throat and tongue.

You gagged a little when the first stream hit the back of your throat, but you recovered enough to hear the incoherent whines Peter made. Another grunt escaped from him as you rubbed your soft tongue over the underside of his dick, moving over the pulsating veins there.

It was all Peter could do to keep from crumpling as he shot harder than he ever had in his life, knees weak from the sheer force of it.

If you hadn't been there to maintain the grip on his legs, he would have melted into a pile of jelly at your knees.

Once you had ridden out his orgasm and released him you stood back up, pushing back the soaken strands of hair that hung off his forehead. Peter grinned, chest heaving as he watched your tongue come out, licking a spot of his release you had missed on your lip.

“Feeling any better, sir?”

Again, Peter felt tongue-tied. He wasn't sure what to say or do. Even though he'd had the most soul-sucking orgasm of his life, his dick was still half-hard. Typical speedster sex drive.

The water was still hot, yet wouldn’t be lasting for much longer. He had to make this count.

Your breasts brushed his chest again when Peter leaned in to capture your lips with his. A slight squeak of surprise escaped you when he separated the seam of your lips with his tongue and pushed forward aggressively. Your tongues duelled, battling for position. Peter could taste the musky odor of his own arousal on your lips, strangely exotic. His hands were tender when he lifted the weight of your breasts in his hold.

Nothing in his fantasies matched the feel of your nipples as he circled over them. Softly puckered flesh dragged under the smooth calluses of his thumbs, causing you to moan softly and push your torso against his.

Straightening up, Peter grasped your waist tightly and with a smirk, swiftly spun you around, pushing you forward into the shower wall.

You let out a hiss as your nipples came in contact with the cold tiles, them becoming painfully hard. Peter gently pushed your hair aside before placing a chaste kiss on your neck; you moved your head to the side, allowing him better access.

Peter rested his forehead between your shoulder blades as the water ran down his back. He took a deep breath in, trailing a hand down your back before pulling back and slapping your ass. The loud moan that fell from your lips made him chuckle, "You've done yer job doc, now yer need payment.”

You nodded your head as you whimpered, feeling yourself become more and more turned on and unbelievably wet. You feel Peter’s tip rubbing your folds, spreading your moisture around as you whimper in anticipation.

You looked back over your shoulder to Peter glancing down at where you two meet. Raising an eyebrow, you went to say something but Peter's quick thrust into you made all the air in your lungs escape. You were wet enough that it didn’t hurt, but the delicious stretch it provided you made your eyes roll back into your head.

Hands slipping as you try to hold onto something, your breasts bounce into the wall as you whimper, legs spreading further so Peter could fully enter you.

Without stopping and with a thoughtful hum, Peter reached up towards the detachable shower head and flicked the setting to a steady stream of fast water, pulling it down.

You could hear him doing something and looked back over your shoulder to see him messing with the shower head, "Are you about to-" You let out a cry as you felt the pressure from the water on your clit, "Shi- shit! Peter!" The pleasure making your eyes roll back.

You attempt to snap your thighs shut, trying to escape the intense pressure on your bundle of nerves. Peter, however, had other plans as he huffs breathlessly, lips dragging up the sensitive skin of your neck. He nips at your ear, using a free hand to spread your legs apart.

“Yer need to keep ‘em spread for me. Y-yer can do that fer me, can’t ya, babe?” He grunts into your ear. You whimper, nodding.

“That’s a- f-fuck.. good girl.”

In a carnal rage, a clatter sounds as Peter drops the shower head, gripping your hips with both hands as he fucks up into you, leaning his bodyweight onto yours to give him more leverage. The faster he fucked into you, the faster the feeling of your climax crested. This one felt different, more intense, and you both knew it.

You make a pitiful noise, again and again as Peter drives his cock into your cunt, hitting your G-spot every single time.

“Therrre she is. Is that it, yeah? That spot feel good, honey?” You could feel Peter’s grin against your throat. “Yer squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight. Can yer hear that?”

The slick sounds of his cock fucking into you was loud over your pants for air, and you nodded weakly. You felt slick and pre-cum run down your thighs as Peter moved in and out of your heat in rapid succession, much like an animal in heat. "I think yer might even squirt fer me, doc.”

A shuddered moan fell from your lips before you agree. Sharp, white hot pleasure tore through your body, from head to toe, and you keened as Peter forced himself deeper. "Yer pushin' me out, babe-lemme in, need to feel it," he moaned. "Fuck, yer so pretty; that's it, that- Fuck!"

You felt the dampness of your thighs before you could comprehend the heightened pleasure, and you glanced down to watch Peter’s lower half become soaked from your climax. "Oh-" You turned your head as much as you could to face him, eyes half lidded.

From his position behind you, Peter crashed his lips to yours and forced his tongue into your mouth, fucking it languidly while his hips stuttered in their rhythm. You panted as he pulled back, his breath fanning over your spit-slick lips.

"I need ter cum, baby-" he pleaded, thrusting deeper.

"Please, please-lemme cum in-"

"Yes," you rasped, nodding. “Please- i need you to cum in me so bad-”

Peter groaned and shuddered. He lowered his head to your shoulder and rested his forehead on vour collarbone. You could hear him panting over the slapping of skin and slick noises of his cock in your cunt, and you matched his thrusts in an attempt to bring him closer to the edge.

"Oh, fuck," he rasped. Each thrust sent a shock of pleasure curling up your spine, but you brushed it off, intent on making Peter cum - you squeezed around him and circled your hips. The whimpery noises he makes only make you clench harder, wrapping him in a vice you never want to let go of.

Suddenly, the hot spray of water turns cold and you gasp, arching your back and clamping yourself down on Peter’s cock with all the strength you could muster, tipping him over the edge.

“I-ngh.. Shit!” Peter panted and his hips faltered, a warmth soon blooming in your cunt, filling you up to the brim and leaking out of your quivering body.

The slow, rocking rhythm Peter set with his hips soothed you, bringing you slowly down from your high while he descended from his. "Fuckin' hell, babe," he murmured, and he kissed you on the lips, then the forehead.

The room is full of the scent of arousal, and it makes you feel high up in the clouds, filling your head with the syrupy-sweet fuzziness of speedy contentment.

You must have zoned out for a little bit, because the next thing you’re aware of is the sound of the shower being turned off, and strong yet shaking arms scooping you up off your feet. You were deposited outside the walls of the shower, and then a soft towel is being worked around your body, collecting the droplets of water falling off your hair and frame.

"Let's get yer warmed up, babe."

Before long, you’re bundled up in a bathrobe, hair perfectly brushed out, and being placed gently onto the couch you had been making out with Peter on not too long ago. The volume of the TV had been lowered, allowing you to hear Peter's soft mumblings of praise in your hair as he lays below you, arms cradling you to his chest. His sweatpants feel comfy against your bare legs, and your palms rest on the cotton of his white t-shirt he had changed into.

“Can we watch The Empire Strikes Back?” Peter murmurs into your hair, making you grin as it takes you back to the day you met him in the auditorium. Humming contently, you fish your hand down the side of the sofa in search of the tv remote. You furrow your brows however as you feel something rather furry brush against your fingertips.

Pinching it between your two fingers you pluck it out of the couch, inspecting the small… seed?

Peter’s eyes follow your gaze as he gasps softly in remembrance, craning his head to the side to see an abundance of dandelion seeds littering the couch. Peter frowned. He had forgotten about the strange flower he had plucked due to the abrupt slab of concrete disrupting his day. The seedlings must have fallen out of his uniform when you were tending to his wounds.

“Shit! That was meant ter be a surprise, babe.” Peter frowned sulkily, plucking the puffball from your fingertips. “I found these weird lookin’ flowers on the mission and wanted to show them to yer. Thought i discovered a new species er somethin’.”

Despite your heart warming at the kind yet failed gesture, you laughed. “Peter, honey, they’re dandelions. Weeds.” You grinned, watching as his mouth forms an ‘o’ in realization.

“But.. at least they’re rare, right?”

You thin your lips out into a line whilst shaking your head, trying not to laugh as the speedster groans, throwing his head back.

“Ugh, I could’ve totally avoided that wall if it weren’t fer these fuckin’ things,” Peter drops the dandelion seed, letting it float to the polished wooden floor. “All that fer nothin’!”

You snuggle further against him, grazing around his bandages with a confused expression. “I do appreciate the gesture, but I thought you got these from the fight? Not from.. A wall?” You appear more perplexed as you try to imagine the scenario. “Did you.. run into it or somethin’?”

Peter sighed. Another point to add too his ‘you royally suck, dude!’ tally chart. How many times had he embarrassed himself before you now, five?

“No, it-” He grimaced “-it slammed into me.” He watched as you squinted your eyes, picturing how it went down. “Don’t fret though, babe, I totally showed it who’s boss. Knocked some sense into it.” He grinned, stroking your drying hair.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” You grin, tracing further down the trail of wounds and scratches. “Seems like it knocked more sense into you, though.”

Peter scoffed, waving his hand in dismissal before looking down at you, smiling lopsidedly. “Do I get a lolly fer bein’ so brave, doc?”

He smirks at your flushed expression and you still for a moment, before reaching into your bathrobe pocket and pulling out the panties you had strewn across the bathroom earlier. Peter's eyes widen.

“Here, take these.” You say simply, lazily dropping the material into his hand. Peter beams, face dusted pink. He’ll find some use for those, you’re sure. It won’t be a surprise if you find them framed up in his room, next to his Greta Van Fleet poster.

The next morning you change, treading down the corridor into the living room. Scott is slung across the sofa’s armrest watching the news as Jean sits on the other end by his socked feet, reading a book. Kurt and Ororo share a large armchair nearby, also watching the TV as Peter leans against a wall, sipping a steaming cup of coffee. Not like he needs it anyway.

As you walk in Peter raises his mug at you, nodding and grinning toothily as you greet him back. You silently hope he hadn’t mentioned the prior events to the others.

You ask Scott to turn the volume up and he groans tardily, reaching down the back of the sofa to fish for the remote. You go into shock, however, when he furrows his brows, pulling out a lacy pair of underwear instead. Your underwear.

Scott holds them up in the air with his index finger and thumb, flushing wildly and looking around the room in search of answers. Jean lowers her book, giving you a disapproved stare before continuing her new read of the day. Ororo squeals in laughter and Kurt goes a deep shade of bluey purple, his gaze anywhere but your panties.

“Well, what do we have here?” You could hear the smugness through Scott’s voice as you look wildly across the room to Peter. He only hums, as if in question, no doubt reminiscing on the memories of last night as he sips his coffee, pleased.

You meet his eyes, desperately searching for something to say as he winks at you, strolling up behind the couch to inspect your underwear like he didn’t know whose they were.

Sighing in relief, you thought you were going to get away with it, the embarrassment slowly ebbing out of your head; that was until Peter’s voice piped up.

“Babe, I swear those are your panties, right?”

Okay, maybe Peter was a little bit of a jackass.

#peter maximoff #evan peters #quicksilver #xmen #evan peters masterlist #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff smut #quicksilver smut #xmen peter maximoff #evan peters x reader

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atiny-moon · 8 months

Text

ATEEZ as Boyfriends

Genre: soft, fluffy, suggestive

Pairing: ot8 x gn!reader

Tags: a little bit of everything <3

Word Count: 1.6K

HONGJOONG

Definitely the type of bf to fix your clothes - like if you’re going out somewhere, i can see him helping you pick out smth to wear or even styling you himself. And when you two are out, he’s constantly adjusting your fit so you don’t look bad. The type of guy wander off in the middle of a party just so he can admire you from afar

Though he isn’t too fond of being overly emotional, will hype you up to anyone who would listen and not even in an annoying way, it just so happens that the majority of his sentences start off with ‘oh, my partner..’

Loves leaving marks - biting, hickies, etc. in places only he knows about

Will call you every time he’s eating, even if he doesn’t say anything, just bc he missed you and wanted to have you around for a little bit

Doesn’t like to cuddle but does give the best kisses the kind where he just holds your chin in place and plays with the ways his lips touch yours

Ultimate king of push and pull

SEONGHWA

Ugh, the way this man would absolutely dote on his partner. Anything they wanted - he’d be all over it. Think acts of service type of love

Loves all the cheesy romantic shit, all of it - the matching accessories, matching hairstyles, coordinating outfits, taking an insane amount of cute couple photos, going to the most aesthetic date spots just so y’all can take photos together. Knows your best angles, duh

So many gifts. And expensive gifts, too! Hwa’s got super expensive taste and i feel like he’s the type of bf to dote on you so much that he wouldn’t want you to wear inexpensive clothing. Like he’ll be like, ‘oh, babe, i got you these new silk pajamas because you said mine were so comfy’ meanwhile he’s already replaced like all of your clothes

Super comfy stay-at-home dates where you do skincare and watch the latest episode of whichever drama you’re watching. Even when he’s hella busy, he’d find time to video call you so you could watch the newest episode together.

Always smells incredibly good, addictive even

Forehead kisses & top of the head kisses are his favorite

YUNHO

Textbook romantic gentleman. The type that makes sure you walk on the inside of the sidewalk, opens every door for you, never ever lets you lift a finger, and will always give you his jacket if you’re cold

Super sentimental. Like if you put together a scrapbook of all of your time together, guaranteed this man will cry. Especially if there’s a handwritten letter explaining how much you love him - he would simply be undone

Tries to remember every single detail about you so he can either plan the perfect date or gift you the perfect item. Truly works soo hard at being a good boyfriend. Also really good with birthdays. Like, scary good.

And tbh, the type of bf to call you out on your bs - like when you’re being a little unreasonable or if you’re telling him about a situation that you’re going through, i think yunho would be the type of bf to tell you when you’re wrong but in a nice way! (maybe.. he can be kinda savage sometimes lmao)

While I don’t think he’d be super into PDA i do think he’d just always be near you like close enough to reach out and hold his hand or close enough that you two would be able to talk without raising your voices

This man loves back hugs

YEOSANG

The best at good morning and goodnight texts. They somehow always make you feel loved and special

Super supportive? The type of bf to set reminders in his phone so he can wish you good luck on whatever upcoming project you’re working on. Even if it’s like the smallest thing ever, he’d be so proud of you for working toward it and even more proud when you achieve it

Really deep and interesting conversations

I think it would be so easy to be with Yeosang - like the both of you wake up together, get hungry at the same time, get sleepy at the same time, etc

It’s not that he’s not into PDA, he just forgets about it like of course he loves holding your hand, but he got distracted thinking about what he wanted to get for lunch

Laying his head on your lap is his preferred way to fall asleep

SAN

Loooooooves physical affection. Cannot get enough of it. I think his ideal would be being able to glue himself to you so two could just walk around permanently attached to each other. also I feel like San runs really fricken hot - like a cute lil heater

The ultimate hype man. It could be a pre-workout selfie, a just finished taking a shower selfie, an all dressed up selfie, a sleepytime selfie, a i just woke up selfie, IT DONT MATTER!! San is going to hype you up every single time. Which obviously does wonders for your confidence (which was his plan all along ;) )

Loves to stay in and just watch movies. Mostly so he can spend as much time as he can cuddling with you. Matter of fact, most of the dates he plans are just excuses to spend more time with you - physically and emotionally

Speaking of, San would be such a good listener! Like I feel he’d understand where you’re coming from emotionally and provide support in a positive and affirming way and never ever make you feel like your emotions are wrong or you were wrong, for that matter truly wants the best for you

And bc he loves you so much, I feel like he would also respect you a whole heck of a lot which means the first time you guys wanna do anything sexual, it takes him a loooong time to be okay with it. Like i think you would have to initiate

That said, he would absolutely blow your back out every chance he got once he got comfortable

MINGI

Loyal af. Once he makes a decision on who he likes, it’s that person FOR EVA so get used to the idea of having song mingi in your life

The wildest communicator - like, y’all abandoned texting very early on in the relationship and now exclusively communicate via selfies/photos, voice memos & memes. His voice memos are hilarious and sometimes incredibly lewd. Like will sing you an entire song that he just made up. In voice memos. Then follow it up with what he wants to do to you in excruciatingly graphic details.

While he won’t do completely matching outfits, he is super down to coordinate outfits - wear the same colors, or complementary silhouettes, something that lets ppl know you two are an ~item~

And though I think he likes being Princess Mingi, i think he would go to great lengths to make sure you’re taken care of - whatever you need, he’d get it for you.. Or get someone else to get it for you lolol

Will always pull you into his lap. He likes how easy/fun it is to manhandle you.

Loves PDA. I’m talkin full on make-out sessions, ass grabbing, hand holding, and everything in-between. good luck getting him off you!

WOOYOUNG

Likes biting. A lot. Especially the marks it leaves

Super generous. Like, the most giving man you have ever met. Will give you the shirt off his back even if you don’t ask for it. This also extends to anyone you know, especially! family. He likes knowing he’s the one taking care of you && yours

This man is crazy into fashion and i think his style would end up affecting your style, not bc he wants to but bc he just looks so cool all the time, you’d wanna match him, if you know what i mean. Definitely gives me gomez & morticia addams vibes.

Learns your favorite dishes and cooks them for you.

I think Wooyo’d be the type of bf to be a little controlling or ride the line of being a little mean just so he can rile you up. It turns him on when you get angry. But would also definitely cut it out if he saw you weren’t having it.. He wants to fuck you, not make you mad!

Can and will makeout with you for hours

JONGHO

Would have such a hard time telling you how he feels, but has no problem showing you how he feels - whether it’s buying you a little trinket, or making sure you ate, or even just listening to you, i think you would always feel loved when you’re with Jongho

Is actually really funny? Or maybe he’s just good at learning what makes you laugh and then gets good at telling you jokes that align more with your humor

Your family would absolutely adore Jongho

Wants to experience new things with you so all of your dates are either trying out a new restaurant, or visiting a new pop-up event, or going to a new city for the weekend, anything that helps creates memories with you

Hella anti-PDA. Will actively avoid holding your hand in public. But as soon as you are behind closed doors, will be the sweetest and most loving bf - being silly/cute, soft sweet kisses, plenty of hugs (which he’s surprisingly really good at), and sooo many massages

Jongho would give the best aftercare

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funnylittlelad · 1 year

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What's your favorite color? - steddie blurb

It comes as a shock, frankly. No, more like an affront. Maybe both. Either way, Steve finds himself wondering for the first time since they started dating if Eddie is lying to him. The whole conversation started over something stupid. Really, the whole conversation is stupid. Steve is the only one of them with a wrinkle between his brow and a twist on his lips. Eddie is looking at him all soft eyes and easy smiles. They're in their tiny kitchen. Steve has his arms crossed as he leans against the wall next to the landline. Eddie is bracing himself on the little table they got to use as an island for some desperately needed extra counter space.

"You're not being serious," Steve decides out loud.

Eddie laughs, only a little in disbelief. Mostly it's amusement at Steve's current childlike behavior. Eddie thinks he's endlessly cute and endearing when he gets like this. Especially because it's never about anything serious so Eddie never have to worry about it devolving into a real fight. It's just another flavor of conversation.

"I'm being serious!" Eddie insists.

"There's no way, Eds. I mean, have you seen your wardrobe?"

"Yeah, I see it on a pretty regular basis, believe it or not."

Steve levels him with an overly serious, analytical stare.

"Are you seriously telling me that you- Eddie Munson, metalhead extraordinaire- your favorite color isn't black?"

Steve's head shakes a bit in what Eddie would consider a bitchy move. That's okay, Eddie likes when Steve gets bitchy too. Hell, Eddie just likes Steve.

"It's not!" He laughs defensively.

"It's all you wear!"

"So, your favorite color is yellow," Eddie states matter-of-factly.

Steve squints, shaking his head a little more. Steve's hands can't stay still for too long while he's talking, no matter how hard he may try. Eddie has insisted he loves how expressive Steve can get. Even if Steve's parents didn't. Especially because they didn't. One hand breaks free of the opposite arm and begins to fly around as he speaks.

"Since when is my favorite color yellow?" he asks.

Eddie rolls his eyes, but his smile never leaves his face.

"It's all you wear!" he throws Steve's words back at him.

Steve pouts. He knows it's true. There has been a lot of yellow spotted in his wardrobe lately. That's just because he thinks he looks good in it... because Eddie told him once he looks good in it.

"Alright, fine, point taken. What is it then?"

Eddie's face softens. His smile becomes something warm and sweet like chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven. He walks around the makeshift island to invade Steve's space. Steve isn't phased in the slightest. Eddie places a quick kiss to the tip of Steve's nose. The act earns him a smile that Steve works hard to fight off.

"Funnily enough, my favorite color is yellow," he answers easily.

Steve's face goes from bitch mode to genuine surprise. Then some confusion trickles in via his eyebrows.

"You're not fucking with me right now? Dustin isn't going to jump out with a camera to catch the dumb look on my face?" Steve questions, playfully looking over Eddie's shoulder like he actually expects Dustin to be there.

Eddie breaths a chuckle across Steve's face. For a moment there's nothing but the scent of mint and cigarettes.

"First of all, your face never looks dumb. No, I'm not fucking with you. My favorite color is yellow," Eddie insists.

"But... why? I mean yellow is so- and you're so- why?" Steve struggles to understand a world where Eddie Munson's favorite color is yellow.

A light blush blooms across Eddie's face.

"Because you wear it a lot and you look really fuckin' good when you do. Now whenever I see it, it makes me think of you," he admits softly.

Steve absolutely melts. How can he not? His arms end up around Eddie's neck as he presses a gentle kiss to his lips. Their foreheads rest against each other when they part.

"You're so cheesy, y'know that?" Steve chuckles lightly.

"Yeah, but you love it," Eddie grins.

"Yeah, I do."

After that, Steve realized that his favorite color is black.

Masterlist

#idk what made me think of this but once i did i needed it OUT of me #steddie brainrot #steddie blurb #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson

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randomfanner · 5 months

Text

It crushes me how much Gale Slander there is.

I know a bug made him horny and clingy but in my current play through Gale and Blanche(what I named my Tav) are bros and I have found it easy to avoid romancing him.

And how can you dislike Gale for being a bit pushy and hitting on you when literally EVERYONE HITS ON YOU!!! At the Tiefling Party, if you have medium approval with anyone you can start romancing them and they all want you to god dammit.

But if you actually romance Gale, he is pretty damn shy and hesitant. You can think you want to kiss him and he doesn't just kiss you, he is just stunned. He is not trying to jump right into a romance with you! He can get pretty forward once you, the player, have shown interest in actually romancing him. (Like when he says you are hot when you fight)

A lot of people dislike Gale for talking about Mystra when he is trying to romance you but we have to remember: Mystra means so much more to Gale than just being his ex-lover. Gale worshipped Mystra as his goddess before, during and afterwards their relationship. Mystra is magic, the literal goddess of what he ties all of his self worth too. I will admit I am biased towards Gale because I am the same way about my grades, and for Gale, the Goddess magic and the embodiment of his art took an interest in him and made him his chosen.

When he lost the favor of Mystra, he lost everything he had worked so hard for in his life. Was it partly his own fault? Yes, he fucked around and found out. However I genuinely think if Gale had only been Mystra's Chosen rather then Mystra's Lover, he wouldn't have.

Mystra approached Gale and from how we see Gale act when he is trying to seduce Tav, he didn't make the first move romantically either. Mystra had a lot of power over Gale and I don't blame Gale for wanting to become the equal of the woman he loved.

Of course the problem arises because she is a Goddess and he is a Mortal Man who is overly ambitious. But I do not think the bases of what he wanted was too much to ask for.

Maybe I am giving Gale too much credit, I mean, look at how he reacts to the Crown and oh I do sigh at that. But his reasons are very complex for wanting the crown more then just power.

And the magic items. It is three magic items and you get so many thrown at you during this game. Not all of them are good for every run. An uncommon magic item is like what, 33gp?

When Gale actually comes to you about it too, it is either after you have shown you are a good person who likes to help people and he feels he can trust you to help him with the bomb in his chest that could wipe out a city. Or the alternative is he literally has to come talking to you lest he actually, literally explode and you are the person who is in charge. Yes he gets angry when you refuse but man has good reason, everyone's life is at stake!

Does he give you all the details? No! But the only people who tell you everything at this damn camp are Lae'zel and Karlach! Literally no one tells you ja

There are plenty of reasons to not like Gale. Gale is my favorite but I do see how parts of him, like how he can be sort of a classist asshole about magic(I do not think he intends to be and I think that is Gale's ~Touch of the Tism~ showing and being mixed with self worth issues)

Gale is such a genuinely sweet guy. He values life and people and magic. He may be over the top and get in over his head way to easily just wants to be at home with his cat and a good book and I am so sick of all the slander towards my boy.

#rant post #Gale #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #Gale is best boy #fight me #how can you hate a guy who asks you for items but love the guy who tries to kill you twice?#I love Astarion I promise #but man #he tries to kill you twice and for the first half of your relationship he is literally using you #fuck Mystra #Mystra can go die in a hole #Put Withers back as a god #the god of magic

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yandere-sins · 10 months

Text

The Orcas’ Tale - Chapter V

Gosh... we're almost at the end. Can you guys do it? Or will I get you with these choices? >:3 One of them actually leads to my personal favorite bad end, so I am lowkey hoping for that, but I am excited to see what you guys will choose ♥

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Orca Mermen x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Monsters, Self-harm on the outer side of the forearm to help, Blood mention, Gun mention, Dub-con touches/kisses, Wound healing through licking, Animalistic behavior, Mention of claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death, Long post

"Think!" you hissed to yourself, looking around you in panic, trying to come up with something to help Nerrocan.

Time was mercilessly passing you by, not allowing you even a moment to try something you weren't sure of. If you didn't believe that it could work, you couldn't risk your or Nerrocan's life with it. There was nothing for you to use on this small, deserted island, and you wouldn't be able to dive into the ocean and try to find something there, risking your life in more than one way. The situation was despairing, frustration shaking through you as you fumbled, trying to do at least something.

But there was nothing. Just the island, the ocean, the moonlight. Sand, stars, stones…

Stones!

Falling over your own two feet, you never felt more like a useless human than in that moment, but you pushed these embarrassing thoughts away as you sifted your hands through the sand, trying to find the stone you clutched onto before. It was the most basic fact and overrated stereotype—sharks can smell blood and will react to it. Even if you only managed to distract them briefly, maybe Nerrocan would have a window to take them down.

No one but these creatures themselves would be able to tell you if your assumption was correct. This plan had no guarantee, but your gut told you it was the best thing you could do. Finally feeling the cold surface of the stone, you grabbed it and sprang up. Stumbling over to the opposite side of the island from where they were fighting, you rolled up your sleeve as far as you could and placed the stone on the outer side of your forearm. Inhaling deeply, you breathed out before dragging the sharp side of the rock down from your hand to your elbow. You had no idea how much blood you'd need to distract them when the mermen were caught in a bloody fight, and you bit your lips so hard you tasted the iron as the pain flooded your nerves, alarming you about the wound being etched into your body.

This was not supposed to be easy, but you groaned as you discarded the bloody stone, readying yourself for the beastly sting of saltwater in an open wound. Your head was already dizzy, and you found it hard to breathe, but muffling your scream, you plunged your arm into the ocean, keeping it there no matter how much the water burned. Tears shot in your eyes, but you repeated your goal over and over in your mind—survive.

Survive, survive, survive.

A cold hand wrapping around your wrist tore you from your mantra, a terrified squeal ripping from your throat as the unfamiliar face of one of the grey mermen emerged from the water, tightly holding on to your arm. Something about him seemed juvenile. Maybe it was the overly confident, cocky grin or the fact that he was so much smaller than what you were used to from these creatures by now. Smaller than even Lyr or the other shark merman that attacked you before.

But bigger than you either way.

"Couldn't wait for us to finish with the orca, huh?" he chuckled, a grin full of sharp rows of teeth stretching from ear to ear. "We'd have come for you soon, tasty human. But it seems you had other plans."

"N-No," you stammered, pushing your free hand down your arm and intending to pry his off. Behind you, the splashing never stilled, meaning Nerrocan had no idea what was happening on your side. He wouldn't come to save you this time, too busy fighting for his own survival. Your plan had worked a little too well, it seemed. And now you were all on your own.

"Get off me!" you screamed at the merman, shaking your arm and scratching him as hard as you could. He merely chuckled, only pulling you closer.

"Why would I? I never let my catch get away. I wonder where I should start… I heard that those special things you use to stand are especially delicious~"

Licking his lips, you felt panic overtake you as you tried to tear your arm from his grip. Blood was dripping from your wound over his fingers, and the merman leaned down, basking in your horror as he licked it up.

"Fucking delicious, humans are the best," he moaned ecstatically, moving his tongue up higher, directly to your arm for a better taste. Pulling back his lips, he revealed all those terrifying sharp teeth you feared, ready to chomp down, and you tried to stumble away, the sand giving way and making you fall on your ass. All you could do was look up at the merman, knowing what was going to happen, and there was nothing you could do.

He was about to sink his teeth into you when his pupils widened, an expression of shock washing over him. Without letting go of you, he looked over his shoulder, only to suddenly jerk away, hands flailing to grab you, trying to find hold on the island. You screamed in surprise but pulled your legs out of his reach in time, yanking your arm in the opposite direction as he was dragged back, his body disappearing into the depths. Breathing heavily, you jerked around, seeing only the calm ocean behind you. It was quiet.

Snapping your head back forward, the water had calmed on this side as well. You feared approaching it, feared to learn who might be lurking below if it wasn't Nerrocan. But scooting over on your butt, you dipped your foot into the water, only for you to notice the murkiness of it. "Blood…" you whispered, knowing the difference in looks from your studies. Even in the pure moonlight, the ocean's depth could not fool you. The water was turning red. It must have been a lot of blood.

But nothing happened.

It was mere seconds that passed, but it felt like an eternity of anxiety rushing through you. As if you had to relive all the fear and panic from the moment you found yourself stuck on the boat out on the ocean alone until now, in just these few seconds. You were alone again. Hopeless. Who could ever find you out here? So far away from the last place you had been seen, days later? Maybe they had already ceased their efforts to find you, and without Nerrocan to take you back to land, you were truly doomed this time. You didn't think Krill or Lyr would come for you, either. No one. This time, you'd not be granted a magical encounter to survive.

"Nerro…" you whimpered, the panic forcing it out louder as you tried again. "Nerrocan!"

Calling out his name did nothing to free you of this fear. Of the knowledge of your possible demise. Ultimately, the thing that would kill you was what all the orcas had complained about for so long: your humanness.

"Please… Please!" you sobbed, crawling over to the water's edge, the pain in your arm forgotten now that everything started to hurt. Desperation was raking its claws through you, tears spilling from your eyes as you stared down into the water, unable to see anything. See him. "Don't leave me," you cried, your vision growing blurry while your chest tightened, making it hard to breathe.

"You promised!"

"I promised."

Hearing the tired but familiar and soothing rumble of Nerrocan's voice was like an angel choir singing down at you from above. He rose from the water as you couldn't contain your emotions, breaking out into more ugly sobs. Nerrocan wrapped an arm around your waist as you reached out your hands—clinging to his neck like the monkey you were—and not saying anything as he lifted you against his chest, pulling you up on the island with him. Not even his tail was left inside the water as he collapsed on the beach with you, holding you tightly against him.

"You're wounded," you hiccuped into his chest, and he let out an exhausted sigh.

"Give it some time. It'll heal."

Nodding into his skin, you didn't dare question him. You'd not be surprised if the mermaids had some kind of inhuman wound healing as well, and after all he did for you, who were you to disagree? Instead, more hot tears dripped from your eyes, Nerrocan's hand spreading over your back as he stroked his thumb up and down your spine.

"It's okay, you're safe," he murmured, sounding like he was about to fall asleep. "I'm here."

Wrapping his other arm around your body as well, he turned both of you to the side, curling his tail upwards and around your back, shielding you even when you were out of the water. You ignored the tightness of his embrace, his strong, scratched and bitten arms holding on to you as if he felt the same desperation as you did. Crying out all of the anxiety and fear you had kept inside you, your body shook against him; you only noticed long after he fell asleep that his breathing calmed down, chest heaving only ever so slightly. The adrenaline that had pumped through your body had also worn you down, but you couldn't close your eyes, even when your vision was too blurry to see. Nerrocan needed this. He needed some rest. As long as you two could, at least. You were going to give him that. He fought for your damn lives and returned to you, protecting you even now.

Sitting up, it was a struggle to get out of his embrace, Nerrocan's expression tensing when you moved away from him. You left his arms hanging around your hips as you against him, staring out onto the ocean, deciding to watch for more attackers while he rested. And Nerrocan adjusted his hold, curling his head forward until his face was buried in your side. You let him. Anything that would make him feel safe enough to rest. This time you'd protect him while he slept, even if you felt like passing out from all the stress you went through.

The ocean was magnificent at night. Even with all the horror you experienced, it simply washed all the blood and violence away with a wave, moving on from it. You had no idea how you would ever move on from any of this. No amount of therapy would help to get over what happened to you, and you'd be forced to live with the knowledge of this journey for the rest of your life, unable to share it with anyone. No one would believe you. And suppose you ever managed to get out on the water again and overcome the traumatic experience. In that case, you'd never look at it the same, knowing what actually awaited you in the depths. Creatures that wanted to kill you.

All except Nerrocan, it seemed.

Slipping your legs from under you, you curled into his arm, admiring his beautiful face. You scowled at the cut on his lip, furrowing your brows as you noticed it had already stopped bleeding and developed a scab. Leaning forward slightly, you observed intently as you realized you could watch it heal, the wound closing right before your eyes, turning into a small, light-colored scar. Amazed, you reached out, carefully tracing your fingertip over it, wondering how useful this could be for humanity if you could extract the healing properties from the mermaids.

But… what would that mean for them?

It was a moral dilemma to think about the harsh treatments these creatures would undergo to be harvested for properties that might benefit humanity. How cruel it would be to catch and exploit them, even if it would be an amazing progress in medicine.

But all these thoughts were forgotten as Nerrocan's eyes fluttered open, finding your hand on his lips, conveniently allowing him to nuzzle his face into your palm. "How are you feeling?" you giggled as he rubbed his face all over your hand and blew air into it playfully.

"I'm good. A little stiff."

Uncurling his tail after his power nap, Nerrocan let it swing back into the water, immediately relieving tension. But instead of dunking his whole body into the soothing wet, he instead situated you close to him with a little space between you two as he rolled over, belly first into the sand, stretching that enormous body of his. His tail fin splashed in the water, and some of it landed on you, the mood turning relaxed and leisurely all of a sudden, making you laugh as you rubbed the water from your face.

"Want me to massage you?" you joked, placing your way too small hands on his back and pressing down with all the weight of your body. To your surprise, Nerrocan groaned, breathing in deeply as you worked all your strength into his muscles. Who knew he'd enjoy massages? But with Nerrocan twisting his upper body towards you so you could reach every part of him, it truly seemed to be to his liking.

However, with all the water splashing from his tail on top of him, it wasn't long until your palm accidentally slipped, the wound you had almost forgotten about grating against his body. You let out a pained hiss, pulling that limb against your chest as you tried to counter the sudden burn with deep breaths, but Nerrocan was up the second the sound left your mouth, reaching for your shoulders as you had hunched over.

"What's wrong?!"

He sounded panicked, very different from how you usually knew him. You put on a brave smile, shaking your head. "It's alright! Just a little scratch, that's all!"

"A… scratch?"

Suddenly, his voice changed from surprised to a growl, and you looked up to see only darkness coating his face. It was the same expression he had when he fought the other merman. The moment you unfurled, he slipped his hand down to the arm you were holding, prying it from you. Your wound was crusted from the salt, but the blood had stopped. It probably was never very deep to begin with, but it felt hot and agitated.

"Did they do it?" Nerrocan asked, a threat not directed at you swinging from his growl.

"N-No," you quickly replied, suddenly feeling all the tension ticking in his muscles also spreading to you. "I did. I wanted to help you. I thought I could distract them…"

Nerrocan's arms wrapped around you faster than you could register them. He pulled you up on top of him as he sat on the island, and you stared at him wide-eyed in surprise.

"Never," he hissed sternly. "Never do that again. For no one. I don't allow you to hurt yourself again, do you understand?"

"Y-Yes?" you replied, and he huffed out air before his eyes dropped back to your arm. Unwrapping one of his limbs from you, he gently picked up your hand in his, positioning you to lift the arm into the air and in front of his face. Completely unbothered by the salt, sweat, tears, blood, and sand, his tongue slipped out as his lips partially enveloped your wound, licking at it like an animal would to groom another.

"Nerrocan!" you gasped, trying to pull your arm away, but he only needed to close his fingers around yours to keep it in place.

"Let me…" he mumbled, kissing the spot he licked a few more times before moving on to the next one. "Let me take care of you."

Something about the way he said it made your cheeks heat up. Or maybe it was the kissing and licking, the gentle way he held you, or the fact he had saved you and was trying to help you in the best way he knew how. The way he seemed so devoted to a mere human annoyance like you, weak and only knowing how to hurt yourself to help him. But there was something strange about the way Nerrocan's care made you feel. Maybe it was the animal in him, or perhaps the way he purred gently, keeping you close to his chest so you'd feel it, too, soothing your whirlwind of emotions and making you lean into his embrace with no questions.

"We can't stay here," Nerrocan mumbled as he lowered your arm to your lap. "We have to keep moving."

"Do we?" you sighed, suddenly overcome with all the exhaustion. As if his purr had tickled out your need to rest. "Can't we stay a little bit longer on land? I'm so tired…"

As if to emphasize your point, you yawned, ready to be dragged to your land of dreams. Nerrocan's purr intensified as he lifted his hand to brush over your head, gently caressing you as he scooped you up in his arms. "That's okay, sweet human. You can rest while we move. I'll hold you; make sure you stay afloat, I promise. But we can't stay. Others could notice the carnage and come for us again. You understand that, right?"

Heaving a long sigh, you nodded, resting your heavy head on Nerrocan's chest as he slipped into the water again, belly up and holding you in his arms. The water wasn't cold as long in his embrace, and you felt his lips press against your head, making you feel even calmer despite being enveloped by the ocean on all sides. There was no more pain in you anywhere, the water peaceful as Nerrocan drifted through it. No matter how inconvenient this position was for him, he made sure to bring you far away from this dreadful place and the danger lurking there before you'd wake up.

After that fiasco, you had little to no breaks on the rest of your journey.

Nerrocan never rested, swimming day and night, only letting you out of his grasp when he needed to feed you or you needed to relieve yourself. By the time you woke up after the night's horror, the wound on your arm was gone completely. You didn't even have a scar left where it once was to remind you. Once again, Nerrocan had taken care of you, making you realize how lucky you were that he was there with you.

Still, traveling through the water almost constantly was quite the challenge as you had expected. More than once, you had gotten seasick on his back, and even though you tried to hide your tears of exhaustion, you knew Nerrocan noticed, making you feel even more guilty. The only good thing was that, now that he was also swimming through the night, two days of travel was cut short into one and a half, and you were thankful for every minute you saved.

"Holy shit," you mumbled, gazing at the dark grey structure rising into the cliffside of a mountain. Part of you was overjoyed, seeing some actual land and human architecture after what felt like weeks away. But at the same time, you couldn't help but hesitate.

"Are you sure you want to come with me?" you asked Nerrocan, probably for the third time since you began this journey. "I don't… What if… You might be in danger if…"

Your stuttering anxiety didn't do much to persuade Nerrocan. "It's fine," he assured you, like all the times before. "I promised I'd get you there."

His amber eyes swayed over to you, his tense expression not lost on you. This is where they were tracked long ago, a place they fled from. If not for you, he would have never returned here, risked his life, and now his freedom. If anyone saw him, who knew what they'd try to do to him.

"Nerrocan?" you asked, sinking to your knees on the small stone ledge he had sat you on. Reaching out, you touched his arm, Nerrocan turning all of his body towards you, fixing you with his eyes. "Thank you," you whispered, tears shooting back to your eyes. You always hoped to return 'home,' but the possibility had been so small at every moment of this journey. And still, he defied it all to get you to where you wanted. There were no words to describe your thankfulness to him, so you merely leaned down, bumping your forehead against his, Nerrocan pushing himself higher so you two could rub your faces against each other. It was his way of showing your feelings, and you hoped they'd translate well to him.

There were mere inches between you two, your lips barely separated by a breath when you thought about if this would be inappropriate. But the moment you retreated from him, Nerrocan was there to catch the kiss, having gotten so much better at it after doing it so many times with you for underwater travel. You didn't feel like you were kissing a lover as much as a really good friend. A friend who you didn't know how to thank in a way he'd understand other than allowing this. But the kiss was fierce, breathtaking, hungry. Nerrocan nibbled on your lips, asking for entry, hot breaths mixing as he pushed himself up and further into you, his tongue rubbing over your blunt teeth before mingling with yours eagerly. Just as the kiss was getting way out of hand for mere friends, he jerked away, eyelids fluttering as he gathered his composure.

"Let's go," he rasped as he tore from the kiss, and you nodded, waiting for him to hold out his hands for you to sink into, knowing he'd carry you to safety now. You were breathing heavily, but you dove into his waiting embrace, back into the ocean that you had come to love and fear more over the last few days. There was no more time to lose to get you back on land, and you couldn't wait to get some proper food and drinks into you, and a good full-night sleep in a bed.

It was quiet, surprisingly so, the whole way to the facility. The open gates revealed private docks, but only one boat was stored there, seemingly empty as well. Nerrocan kept you in his arms, ready to get you out of harm's way. He still didn't harbor much trust in humans or perhaps just this place. You had expected some hustle and bustle inside such a large structure, but it seemed almost deserted, worry knotting your stomach. Looking to your right, you spotted a ladder leading out of the docking pool, and you pointed Nerrocan toward it. He was hesitant at first but carried you over despite growing tenser with every stroke of his tail. You stretched out your hand in anticipation towards the ladder, already flooded with feelings of freedom and peace.

"Stop right there!"

A loud, commanding voice made you jolt. Nerrocan's arms reflexively wrapped around you as he squeezed you against his chest, creating a large distance from the docks with one huge stroke. You squirmed in his hold, unable to see what was going on as Nerrocan clasped his hand over your head protectively. Still, you could hear many footsteps suddenly trampling into the room and over the metal flooring.

"Wai–! Wait!" you yelled, directed at everyone. "Wait, I'm human, and he's friendly!"

"Friendly?" someone scoffed, and you put your hypothetical foot down, slamming your hands into Nerrocan's chest and pushing him away, forcing him to let go. When force didn't help, you took a deep breath, slipping underwater and turning immediately, his hands finding you and dragging you back against him. Still, at least you were facing whoever it was you were talking to.

Almost wishing you didn't.

You faced a row of guns, their barrels alternating between fixating on you and Nerrocan. If the merman knew what a gun was, it made sense he had shielded your head before. Still, all you could do was gulp, scanning over the people in full-black protection gear and masks, unable to say anything.

"Who do you work for?" someone from behind the guards asked, and you looked up at him, an older gentleman wearing a white lab coat, his expression grim.

"What do you mean? I worked with a small research team studying currents but got forgotten at sea. You must have heard of me; it was probably all over the news! I just want to go home, I–"

"That's not a very original excuse. Who do you work for? Who told you to come here?"

Confused, you tried wrapping your head around the strange accusations of the man, not sure what he wanted to hear from you. "Please, I just want to go home! You have to believe me…"

Behind you, you felt Nerrocan tense as the clicking of guns resounded through the open space, the safety being taken off of them. "This is a private institution. No one is allowed to come here and leave. I'm afraid this also goes for you."

"What…?" you mumbled, watching as the guards aimed their guns anew. Instinctively, you drew back, feeling Nerrocan's chest against your body as he wrapped his arms around you. You felt the rumble of a growl build in Nerrocan's chest, and you didn't need to look to know he was baring his teeth while forcing you against him to take you out of the danger at any second if he had to. There was no way this was happening. You couldn't possibly be denied access to leave. Why wouldn't they help you?

"This must be a misunderstanding! I've traveled for three days to come here! Please just let me get through, so I can return home!"

Searching for help, you caught the gentleman's eye, pleading with him, and he squinted suddenly, slightly turning to another man standing by his side, whispering something to him. "Is he…?" the man asked, nodding his chin at Nerrocan.

"He's…" you said, only to stop yourself, unsure what to say. He's a mermaid? He's an orca?

"He's special," you explained instead, twisting slightly to place your hand on his chest. "But he's not a bad guy, just a little protective. We've been through a lot. He won't hurt you if you don't hurt him, and he can understand you. We are not a threat."

A long silence, then more whispers.

"Bonded," the other man at the side of the gentleman in a coat asked. "Are you bonded with him?"

There was even more confusion about the specificness of this question, which must have shown on your face as all the eyes turned upwards to Nerrocan, whose growl turned louder with the attention on him.

"Well, tell us," the gentleman demanded, directing his questions at Nerrocan now. Compared to how afraid you had been when meeting the orcas, he seemed completely calm and collected despite Nerrocan's presence. Someone shimmied through the crowd of gathered people, handing the gentleman a tablet that he briefly glanced at, nodding.

"What?" you mumbled. "Wait, what is going on?"

"What's going on is that now that you have come here, we cannot allow you to leave alive. This is not a place that you can pass through. People who come here, die here." There was a loud sound, and both you and Nerrocan jolted, twisting around to see the open space you had come through suddenly get closed off by a gate.

"Your survival depends on how useful you are to this facility. We have a use for the big guy, but we aren't sure if you have a place in all of this."

"Nerrocan," you whispered, staring at the closing gate and ignoring the guy who was talking. "You have to leave. Now. Go!"

You tried pushing him away, signaling to him to swim out. There was still a lot you didn't understand, but closing off the escape could lead to what you had feared might happen if the merman got discovered.

"No…" he growled his body tense, but for some reason, he didn't panic. "I'll handle this," he added, turning around to face the people before you.

"No! No, you have to go! They'll do bad things to you, please! Nerrocan, listen to me!"

Instead of listening, Nerrocan pushed forward, bringing you both closer to them, gun barrels aligning perfectly with his head.

"No! No, no, no!"

Panicked, you twisted around as well, holding your breath as you thought about what to do. You knew you couldn't leave this up to Nerrocan; he might get himself killed if his instincts told him to fight! Eying the ladder to your right, it was almost close enough to grab now. If you dived under and swam to it, you could run for it, distracting them and finding a way out of this false haven. You were good on your feet, you could probably keep them at bay, and Nerrocan could escape in time for the gate to close completely. He was strong and fast without you as extra baggage to carry around.

But maybe this was all just a big understanding. Perhaps you should have just explained it better. This couldn't be all there was to it.

You needed to do something. Quickly.

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cheesus-doodles · 8 months

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Could you do a headcanon or a short fic of Taiju falling for Takemichis sister. Taiju x reader tokyo Revengers. How would Taijus siblings react to it and the Black Dragons?

asdjnsjdnsj this is cute in a way, there isn't enough Taiju or Takemichi love - and there is no way either would ever win a poll so XD this is not irl time period accurate in the slightest, a very lighthearted piece that is a bit different from what I usually write!

Masterlist

‎‎‎‎‎‎

Wrestle-o-mania

Yandere Taiju with Takemichi's Older Sister Reader

It was obvious to the two pairs of eyes spying on you through the small open crack of the bedroom door that Taiju wasn’t trying to hurt you, not in the slightest. Moreso, their older brother was simply letting you live out your wrestling fantasy with him as your willing dummy; your excited rambling filling the normal tension that usually permeates the air of the Shiba household, the two siblings watching with bated breath as you put the blue-haired gang leader into a side headlock.

“...and did you see that double chickenwing facebuster?! That was fucking awesome! And-”

Breaths were held as the curse word slipped your lips, but against their better knowledge, Taiju didn’t even blink an eye, simply nodding indulgently and (as discreetly as possible) snuggling in against your chest; despite your bulky figure, your strength was still nothing next to his. But god only knew if either of them said such sinful words, the thrashing they would have received would be nothing short of legendary for fouling their tongues with such filth. So why you? What made you special to their notoriously foul-tempered brother?

You were an oddity in the Shiba household, to say the least. The precise type of person that Hakkai and Yuzuha would have never guessed could catch Taiju’s eye. Far from the quiet, submissive, and gentle Christian girl that they had always imagined the oldest Shiba would bring home, someone that would cook and care for him, you were loud, rambunctious and overly obsessed with all things wrestling. Yuzuha had even seen you wipe the floor with some air-headed rival delinquents who thought you were an easy mark to take down Taiju, and though you weren’t spared from being punished by your boyfriend for returning with more scapes and cuts than usual that night, he never went to the extent like he did with them, holding back his strength by a vast margin. Plus, the only thing you could cook consistently well was fried rice.

So how on god’s green earth did someone like you end up with a person like Taiju? Or more so where did Taiju even find someone like you? Did you not fear the other?

Hakkai was barely able to conceal the turbulent feelings in his chest, shock and horror intertwining like wine and honey as he watched with wide eyes Taiju chuckling along with you as he switched positions with you with ease, smoothly putting you into a facelock, with one of your ankles caught between his thighs. “Shi-” The youngest of the Shibas started, only to be quickly stopped by Yuzuha slapping her hand over his mouth. “Shut. Up,” she hissed, before the girl chanced a glance back through the crack in the door.

Fortunately for them, Taiju seemed too distracted by you to notice their presence as you shrieked in excitement at your current predicament. “The stepover toehold facelock??!!”

“You didn’t think I could learn it huh?” The Black Dragon leader crowed, lightly tugging your head backwards and stretching out your back and neck, ever so careful not to put you in any pain. “This shit ain’t that hard.”

“You absolutely have to come to my wrestling club!” You gushed, pretending to struggle in his hold, striking your hand down on the bed as if you were counting down in a boxing ring, all the while giggling. “The others would never believe me!”

But that was enough to dampen whatever cheer that the other had on his face, Taiju releasing you from his hold and pulling you back up to sit on his bed. Eyebrows pinching together, that telltale vein on his forehead started to throb once more as those yellow eyes bored down on you with his signature ferocity that had harden Black Dragon members quavering in their boots - the same hard gaze that Taiju leveled on his siblings right before pouncing on either. “I thought I already told you - I don’t want you going there to mess around with those filthy sinners.”

You, however, weren’t the slightest bit unnerved much to both Shiba siblings’ surprise. “Awww but Taiju! It’s wrestling!” You pouted. “And it’s only once a week!”

Your pleas didn’t work on the notoriously stubborn boy, who simply huffed. “I said no.”

This was one issue that you couldn’t seem to give up. “I can’t miss wrestling!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up.“You could just come with me, ya know? If you’re so worried.”

Yuzuha blinked. Were you…bargaining? With Taiju?

The vein almost popped, and both siblings flinched in unison. This was it. Having to tiptoe around their oldest brother for so many years and learning to read his moods from his body language to avoid any unavoidable outbursts, there was no doubt that Taiju was at his tipping point. Beast-like eyes narrowed, the larger boy looming over you like a tiger eyeing its prey, the shadow over his face growing as the foul mood manifested. As if on instinct, Yuzuha shoved her younger lanky brother behind her, though from the shallow and rapid breathing that could barely be heard even in the sudden stillness of the world around them, the orange-haired girl wasn’t exactly the most confident of the situation either.

As Taiju raised his hand, readying his strike, the spying Shibas couldn’t look away. It fell like the blade of a guillotine -

And landed right on your side as he dug his fingers into your ticklish spot, and you squealed, wriggling as you tried to get away to no avail, the still-stronger Taiju easily pinning you down on the mattress. “You’re going to listen to me, you hear?” He growled playfully as he dug into your other side as well, and your laughter erupted. “You’re going to quit wrestling club tomorrow.”

“Wai-it! N-no, stop that! I’m not quitting!” Your words fell on deaf ears as your boyfriend only renewed his tickling efforts, pouncing on you with vigor. “S-STOP!”

Pulling away from the cheery scene that shone through the small crack of the door, Hakkai and Yuzuha shot each other puzzled looks in the dark hallway, your giggles echoing through the otherwise silent house. Despite the relief of having gotten away scott-free after spying on such a personal situation (if Taiju caught them, there would possibly be no words to describe what would happen to the two of them), the questions remained.

What the fuck was that all about?

‎‎

A week had passed since they had first stumbled upon that domestic scene by pure coincidence and three since you had burst into their life unannounced, and despite their life somewhat returning to normal, neither Hakkai nor Yuzuha could seem to get you out of their minds. It was clear there was a growing pattern between Taiju’s good mood - one where he completely ignores their presence - and his normal demand of absolute obedience from them, which turned out to be when the Black Dragon leader was home alone and you were nowhere in sight.

“You sure that it’s alright I come over?” Takemichi hesitatingly asked, glancing between the two Shiba siblings. It wasn’t the first time the time leaper had met Hakkai, of course, just the first time he had really noticed and been noticed by the Second Division Vice Captain. “Don’t want to be a bother.”

Hakkai waved off his question reassuringly. “Our place is nearby. Won’t be an issue at all.”

But alas, it seemed that the Second Division Vice Captain spoke too fast, too soon, as the trio walked straight into a wall of Black Dragon members mulling outside their residence, pristine white uniforms gleaming under the harsh afternoon sunlight amidst the quiet Tokyo suburban neighborhood, the sound of their footsteps coming to an abrupt halt though not quick enough to prevent them from being noticed. “Hey, isn’t that the Tokyo Manji Gang uniform?”

“Toman? Here?”

Takemichi reared from the glares leveled his way, the uncertain atmosphere sliding straight into the - this was not good at all.

Unbeknownst to you on the other side of the crowd, you hadn’t even heard the initial stirs of commotion, engrossed with fiddling with the ring of the new shark plush keychain you had just received in a bid to hang it on your school bag. There was no second thought at the sudden light that flooded your eyes as Taiju pulled away from attempting to help, both of your heads having been bowed over and squinting at the small golden ring as the blue-haired delinquent barked instructions at you - it wasn’t unusual for your boyfriend having to drop everything to take calls or what not, being the gang leader that he was.

He really should join your wrestling club was what you mused to yourself, as your well-calloused fingers failed time and time again to part the rings and slip them through each other. It would probably be mighty fun to get to practice with someone as strong as him.

A few more minutes, and then a triumphant shout left your lips. “I got it!” You announced proudly, pumping your school bag into the sky, your newest attachment clinking as it jingled around the rest of your collection. “I told you-”

You paused, looking up for the first time since you had started your valiant attempt. The ruckus and rising tension rushed back into your world like the pressure of a vacuum chamber being relieved, the cries of ‘Death to Toman’, whatever that was supposed to be, coming as a sudden surprise to you; the attention of the white-clad boys you had just met turned away from you towards an unseen threat and Taiju nowhere in sight. This called from an investigation, you decided, casually swinging the brown bag over your shoulder and squeezing through the restless mass.

“Tai-Taiju!” With a final push, you popped out the other side of the crowd, though your words died off as quickly as they left your lips as your eyes landed on the unfurling scene. A blonde-haired boy wearing a middle school uniform, collar clutched in the grip of your boyfriend, what was supposed to be his face looking more like fruit pulp than an actual person. Splats of blood splattered across Taiju’s fist and down the barely-white shirt of the other’s school uniform, another blue-haired boy you vaguely recognised as Taiju’s younger brother left sprawled on the ground looking equally beaten.

For any other ordinary person, the frankly gruesome state of affairs would have been enough to set them running as far and fast as their feet could take them, let alone set off the alarm bells in their head - after all, what kind of older brother would thrash his own siblings without a very good reason? But not you, no; for there were no thoughts in your head save one.

One smooth step forward, and you had tucked your head under his arm, grabbing his arm and thigh. In the next heartbeat, up his heavy figure went, his clutch on Takemichi loosened enough to free the boy. Arm muscles bulging, it didn’t look like you were the slightest breath off despite lifting someone larger than you. And then you fell backwards, and down Taiju went, his back landing on the asphalt road with a loud crash in what his temporarily stunned mind reminded him was called a belly-to-back suplex - you would be pissed if he named it wrongly later.

“Don’t you scum dare touch her,” came his cursing from the ground right as you leapt back to your feet, and the Black Dragon members froze at the command from their leader. But you minded none of them, your ferocious, blazing gaze turning on the crouched, pathetic form of Takemichi. Marching forward in their direction, Hakkai gulped, though he still held his ground. The sense of dread knotted itself over and over in the blue-haired Toman member as your shadow came to a halt, towering over the quaking blond delinquent on the ground, his body and face already bruised from the early beating he took from Taiju. He didn’t like the look of this one bit - were you as crazy as his older brother? It would certainly explain a lot, given of all the people you could be dating, you picked Taiju.

And then you all but sang out your next words. “Take-chan!” Your eyes brightened, sparkling in the daylight as the menacing shadows lifted from your face in an instant.

Even though it didn’t seem possible at first, Hakkai swore that Takemichi paled even further, his ashen skin the color only reserved for the dead as he attempted to scramble back and away from your towering figure. “Wha-? Onee-san?” He stammered out. “It’s not what it looks like! I swear!”

The world seemed to pause as everyone present stuttered as if on cue, with the Black Dragon Tenth Generation President surprised enough to raise both eyebrows. Onee-san? The shithead of a Tokyo Manji Gang First Division Captain was your younger brother?

“I can’t believe you’re wrestling without me!”

“No! It’s not what it looks like!!” Takemichi pleaded again, but it was too little, too late, his words falling on deaf ears. You had already scooped him up into a fireman’s carry across your shoulders, swinging him round to ride piggyback, and then throwing yourself backwards and slamming the poor boy back into the ground.

“And don’t let this distract you from the fact that in 1988, the Undertaker threw Mankind off Hell in a Cell, and plummeted 16 feet through an announcer’s table,” you all but shouted at your completely disoriented younger brother, his blue eyes clearly swimming in his head as you shook him by his shoulders in front of a group of stunned Black Dragons and Toman members.

Taiju grabbed your arm, his eyes narrowing, the familiar vein on his forehead starting to throb once more. “Are you done?” He growled at you. If you had been anyone else, he would have all but pounded you into the ground, girl or not - no one treated him like this in front of his men and got away with it. But you were hardly intimidated, and of course you weren't. You were the only exception to his life, the only one whose antiques he entertained time and time again for some blasted reason. And even if he didn't share your love of wrestling, there was one thing for sure - he didn't want you sharing it with anyone else, especially not this piece of Toman shit, even if it was your younger brother. You were his.

You hummed, your thoughts moving on to your next highest priority. Picking up your discarded bag, you lightly swung it around one shoulder. “Oh Taiju! You’re up already!” You cheered, looping one arm through his and proceeding to drag him off, your mind already empty of your younger brother still lying dazed on the road. “Come on, wrestling club is starting soon, we're going to be late!”

"What did I tell you about wrestling club?" The notorious fickle gang leader flicked your forehead as the two of you disappeared round the corner, your laughs echoing down the still street. "I said to quit, didn't I?"

“Your sister is crazy,” Hakkai mumbled to the groaning Takemichi, whose only response was to hold his head in his hands.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #yandere tokyo revengers #yandere tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev #tokyorev x reader #shiba taiju #shiba taiju x reader #taiju x reader #hakkai #shiba hakkai #yuzuha #shiba yuzuha #takemichi #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x reader #tokyorev x you #cheesus answers

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vilevenom · 26 days

Text

Greetings, Anon! Thank you for your prompt! I feel like you probably wanted more interaction between John and the kids, but it sort of became more of a Bruce and JD fic. Whoops! I hope you like it, anyway!

Bruce didn't know exactly when it had begun, but it was certainly becoming hard not to notice just how much his daughter carried around John Dory. When he called the kids for dinner, she had him in hand. When he poked his head outside to check on the kids during the lunch rush, he was sat in her hair. When he was getting the boys ready for bed, she was placing him on the bathroom counter so she could brush her hair.

Honestly, he was beginning to be a bit concerned. Not because he thought John Dory was using LaBreezey as some sort of easy transportation around the large resort (though that had crossed his mind), but because he was a little worried she was looking at her uncle like some sort of living doll.

Despite the fact that LaBreezey was half troll, she and her siblings weren't overly used to being around smaller species. Sure, they were used to Bruce, and he had tried very hard to teach them that no matter someone's size they should be treated with respect, but they had a tendency to let Bruce's life lessons go in one ear and out the other. Put that together with LaBreezey being his only daughter, so Bruce had a bad habit of letting her get away with more, along with the fact that she was his youngest…Well. Bruce had a feeling it was a perfect recipe for potential disaster. Especially when it was topped off with John Dory admitting to, and striving, to be the kids favorite uncle.

Bruce recalled it vividly, the day that John Dory puffed out his chest with a grin and declared in front of his brothers that he was bound and determined to be bestowed with the title 'favorite uncle' by at least one of the kids. He had laughed and then had promptly handed one of his kids a glitter bomb. So, to say that Bruce had a terrible feeling that John was letting his daughter treat him like a toy to earn brownie points was putting it mildly.

And it wasn't like he had much of a chance to pull his brother aside to talk about it, either. Between LaBreezey toting John Dory around, running the restaurant, dealing with the other twelve kids, and trying to make sure he had time to spend with his wife and other brothers when they popped by, it was nearly impossible.

Until finally, one blessed night when all of the boys went to bed without much fuss, Brandy was out with a couple of her friends, and the only one of his brothers currently visiting was John, he had found the opportunity. Well, nearly. LaBreezey had begged to let John Dory tuck her in that night, so Bruce was left standing outside his daughters room while he waited for John to finish reading her a bedtime story.

"…and the princess ran off into the night with the treasure, leaving the stodgy old prince in the dust. The end."

Bruce arched an eyebrow at the ending of the story, not recalling a single book in any of the kids rooms that ended that way.

"That's a much better ending, Uncle John," LaBreezey hummed, her tone letting Bruce know she was already drifting off to sleep.

"Isn't it? I think the princess is much better off without marrying that silly old prince. Who wants to get married after knowing someone for, like, a day?" John chuckled softly. Sometimes Bruce forgot just how good John Dory was with children, right up until he heard this sort of conversation with any of the kids.

"Good night, Uncle John. I love you," LaBreezey murmured, while Bruce peeked through the door to see her struggle to keep her eyes open.

"G'night, pumpkin. Love you, too," John whispered, a soft smile on his face as he blew her a kiss before hopping off her bedside table to flip on her night light.

John Dory quickly exited the room, startling quite badly at finding Bruce waiting for him directly outside the door. "Holy cupcakes," John hissed, clutching at the front of his vest, shooting Bruce a glare, "You're gonna give me a heart attack."

"I very much doubt that," Bruce snorted, arching an eyebrow at noticing the fact that John's hair was coated in glitter, there was a large flower sticker on the back of his vest, and there were bright pink ribbons tied around his wrists. He gestured to the offending decorations, scrunching his nose slightly. "What's with all that?"

John made a quizzical sound as he glanced to the ribbons, his expression turning mildly surprised, as if he had forgotten they were even there. "Oh, yeah," he finally chuckled after a moment, "LaBreezey said pink is my color, but she didn't have any outfits that would suite me, so she found some little ribbons one of her dolls had in their hair. And then she decided my whole look needed a slight adjustment."

"So, you let her coat you in glitter and decorate you with stickers?" Bruce asked, a slight frown on his face.

"I mean, she wanted to play dress up. I wasn't about to tell her 'no'," John snorted as the two began to walk down the hallway, away from the kids rooms.

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment, before shooting John a slight glare. "I wish you would have."

John looked affronted for a moment, before returning Bruce's glare full force. "You would prefer that I make your kid sad by telling her 'no'?"

"Yes!" Bruce started, only to shake his head with a groan, "I mean, no! I don't want her to be sad, but I also don't want her thinking it's okay to treat smaller species like play things!"

"Since when is playing dress up teaching her that trolls are play things?" John scoffed, wrinkling his nose.

"It just is!"

"How?! I used to play dress up with you guys when we were kids!"

"It's different!"

"Again, how?!"

Bruce growled in frustration, throwing his hands into the air. "Because they can hurt us!" Bruce slapped a hand over his mouth as soon as the words escaped him, glancing back towards the kids rooms. They both stood in silence for a moment, Bruce letting out a sigh of relief when none of the kids came running into the hall. He glanced back to John to find him giving him an odd look.

"Maybe you shouldn't have decided to marry a vacaytioner if you were afraid of being hurt," John half growled, his fur bristling.

Bruce rolled his eyes, scoffing at John. "I'm not. Not intentionally, anyway. But you seem to forget, John Dory, that you are dealing with children. Big children. Children that don't realize their strength when dealing with smaller species, like us. Children that aren't used to having to be careful, because they're primarily around vacaytioners their own size. It may not be on purpose, and she might not even realize that she's treating you that way, but when you let LaBreezey do whatever she wants with you, you're unintentionally teaching her that it's okay to treat smaller people like that. Like toys. She doesn't realize it's because you're her uncle, and you're trying to earn some stupid arbitrary 'favorite uncle' title. It was hard enough to get the boys to understand, after I made the mistake of rough housing with the oldest ones when they were younger. I don't want her to think that's okay."

John's expression went from defensive, to pensive, then to defeat. "Okay," he finally muttered after a minute, nodding slightly, "okay."

"Daddy, where's Uncle John?" LaBreezey rocked on her heels as she looked up at her father, who was sat on the counter above her drinking a cup of tea.

"I'm sure he's around, sweetheart. Did you check Rhonda?"

"Rhonda's not where Uncle John parked her yesterday," LaBreezey informed. She looked thoughtful for a moment, before she pulled what appeared to be doll clothing out of her hair. She then climbed up onto the stool next to the counter, placing a troll sized pink vest on the counter next to Bruce. She looked eagerly at her father, bouncing slightly in her seat. "Do you think Uncle John will like it?"

Bruce frowned lightly at the vest, clicking his tongue. "Where did you even find that, sweetie?"

"Oh!" LaBreezey kicked her feet, setting her chin in her hands, "Well, yesterday Uncle John and I were gonna play dress up, but the only clothes I had were dresses for my dolls, but Uncle John didn't want to wear any of those, so I found some stuff to make his outfit pretty. But then I remembered that Cove had a doll with other clothes that he never plays with, and it had a pink jacket. And I know Uncle John likes vests, so I cut the sleeves off for him."

Bruce nodded along as his daughter spoke, before letting out a quiet breath. "You know, LaBreezey, sweetheart, you shouldn't dress Uncle JD up like one of your dolls."

LaBreezey cocked her head slightly in confusion, a little frown on her face. "I wasn't?" she said, taking the vest and tucking it back into her hair. "Uncle John offered to play with me when the boys said that playing dress up was a dumb."

"Oh," Bruce blinked a couple of times, brow furrowed as he mulled that over. "Well…Do you mind if I ask why I keep seeing you carrying Uncle JD around the resort?"

LaBreezey snorted and rolled her eyes as if she'd just been asked the dumbest question in the world. "Because Uncle John's legs are tiny. He can't keep up when we play outside, so it's just faster for me to carry him. Like how mom carries you around sometimes. He told me I didn't need to, and that he was okay on his own, but he gets tired faster when he has to run after us. Plus, he tells me fun stories about when he was traveling when I carry him that only I get to hear, because I'm his favorite niece," she said, smile proud.

Bruce suddenly felt like an idiot. He'd been applying adult concepts and thinking to a child's straightforward actions. He also apparently had far too little faith in his daughter. "So…you just like spending time with your Uncle John? It's not because he lets you dress him up and treat him like a doll?"

"Don't be silly, Daddy," LaBreezey scoffed, "Of course that's fun, too!"

Or perhaps Brue had been right to worry.

"But," LaBreezey continued, "Uncle John listens to me, like you do. We had a tea party yesterday and he let me talk about my sparkle princess pony books the whole time. Rainy and Freddy and Bruce Junior don't like it when I talk about my books. They make fun of them and call them 'girly'. But Uncle John listened to me and told me that if I wanted I could read them to him, since they're too big for him to read."

Oh, yes. Bruce was the worst. "That's so nice, sweetheart! I'm glad to hear it. Did you say that Rhonda wasn't parked where she was yesterday?"

LaBreezey shook her head. "Nope! There were tracks going into the jungle, and you told us not to go out there by ourselves, so I came to ask if you knew where Uncle John went."

"Good girl," Bruce hummed, rising from his seat and setting his tea cup aside. "How about I go find Uncle John for you? As soon as I find him, I'll tell him to come find you."

"Thanks, Daddy!" LaBreezey chirped, leaning in to place a kiss on Bruce's cheek before scrambling off her stool and scampering away.

"You better not have gone far, John Dory," Bruce grumbled to himself as he set off to try and find his brother.

Bruce didn't really have too terribly far to go to find John, luckily. He wouldn't have been surprised if his eldest brother had left the island all together, but luckily he was only on the beach on the opposite of the island to the resort. Rhonda was splashing around in the water, while John was sat in the sand, tossing pebbles into the waves.

"There you are!" Bruce huffed as he jogged up to John, placing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

John looked rightfully startled by his appearance, frowning slightly. "What'd I do now?" he scoffed, throwing another pebble into the water with a bit more force, "You came running out here like a bergen was on your tail. Did I teach the kids that arson is good because I taught Bruce Junior how to build a camp fire the other day?"

Bruce blinked in surprise, finally catching his breath. "You did what? No," he waved his hands through the air, approaching John with a sigh, "That's not important. I mean, well, it is, but that's not why I came to find you."

"The kid was going to light a fire one way or another. At least I taught him a safe way to do it, and that he should always have a bucket of water nearby," John said with a huff, throwing his last handful of pebbles into the water all at once, catching Rhonda's attention. She churred happily, bounding over to poke at the water where the pebbles had landed.

Bruce watched her for a moment before letting out a long breath. "I was wrong."

John visibly perked up at the admission, turning his head sharply to stare up at Bruce. "Excuse me?"

"Yesterday," Bruce stated, folding his arms over his chest and looking distinctly uncomfortable, "When I spoke to you about LaBreezey. I was wrong. I didn't give her enough credit. Or you, for that matter." He glanced down at John Dory, whose expression all but sparkled.

"I wish I had a camera," John said gleefully, getting to his feet, "So I could commemorate they day one of my little brothers finally admitted to me being great."

"I did not say that," Bruce grunted, shoving John once he as on his feet, making him stumble, "I just…I think you are her favorite uncle. Sometimes I forget that she occasionally has a hard time fitting in with her brothers. But you actually listened to her and spent time doing things that she doesn't get to do as often, because her brothers don't like them, and Brandy and I are too busy. That means a lot to her. And to me, too, if I'm being completely honest." Bruce glanced at John to find him wiping at his eyes with a dopey grin on his face.

"I'm her favorite?"

"That is not the take away you should have here, John Dory."

"I know, I know! But, c'mon!" John nudged his brother playfully, "None of you thought I would be any of the kids favorite."

Bruce rolled his eyes before yanking John Dory into a head lock and ruffling his hair. "Definitely the wrong take away, JD!"

"Ack! Let me go! This hurts my back," John whined, smacking at Bruce's arm.

"Yeah, yeah. All right, old man," Bruce snorted, letting John go. "By the way, LaBreezey made you a new vest,"

"Oh, did she?"

"It's pink."

"Of course it is."

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls bruce #trolls labreezey #trolls john dory #trolls fanfic #trolls band together #things that i wrote #prompt fill

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melodygatesauthor · 10 months

Text

Filthy

Asylum Blue Jones X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Requested by Anonymous

Kinks - Shower Scene + Abuse of Power

Summary

You're a new asylum patient taking a shower when the head orderly decides to pay you a visit.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, EXTREMELY dubious consent, Blue Jones should be his own tag, shower sex, asylum, p in v creampie, dirty talk, , praise kink, semi-public sex, power imbalance, abuse of power, smut

Word Count: 965

“S-sir,” you said, covering yourself with your arms when you saw the head orderly, Blue, approaching you in the open shower stall of the asylum bathroom. “I don’t think men are supposed to be in–”

“That’s right babydoll, but I’m not just any man…no…no you see I’m in charge of keeping you and all the other girls safe, remember?” He removed his coat and put it on the bench, and then got to work on his belt. “And I have to make sure you’re protected…”

You felt nervous stepping back against the grungy tile of the shower wall. He smirked, seemingly amused by how anxious you were. He started undressing, keeping his eyes on you the whole time. You kept your hands over your naked body.

“I can make your time here as difficult or as easy as you want it to be honey, that’s all going to depend on how you act for me right now.”

Your eyes scoured over his body, taking in the sight before you. He held himself with such authority, despite not being overly muscular or tall. You noticed his cock, thick and leaking on the floor at his feet. He stepped toward you, and you watched him wide-eyed like a prey fearing a predator.

“Are you going to be a good girl?” He approached you, putting a hand on either side of your head, the water from the shower fell over his shoulders and made his chest glisten before you.

You nodded, feeling your bottom lip tremble. You knew what he was going to do, but you didn’t want to cause trouble so you stayed quiet while he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. He was gentle at first, pecking you softly and sensually. It changed the moment he grabbed you though. His left hand latched onto your hip roughly, forcing you to wince, and his right hand found purchase on your throat, pushing you against the wall.

“You’re such a quiet baby girl, what’s it gonna take to make you scream a little for me hm?” He pulled you back before slamming you into the wall again, “come on! Let me hear you!”

You gasped, pain searing through your spine followed by the ache of his cock at your entrance. It felt big…too big…and you were certain he was going to split you in half the moment he stuffed himself inside of you. A menacing laugh erupted from his lips.

“I can see how afraid you are, and I can feel how tight your pussy is. Maybe if I fuck you hard enough it will make you a little more vocal.”

He picked you up, using the wall for support, and then he lowered you down onto himself slowly. He bit his lip as you slid over him further, only getting his cock halfway in when the stretch became too much to bear. He felt the resistance of your little hole, you could tell by how excited his eyes appeared.

“You better let me in babydoll.” He grunted, thrusting upward a little. You felt your cunt stretch in response, forcing a quiet cry from your lips. “Oh fuck yes, that’s it, that’s what I wanted to hear.” He licked his lips, “give me more of that.”

You cried out as your pussy gave out around him, allowing him the opening he needed to bury himself inside of you completely. He started fucking upward harshly, slamming your body against the wall like he didn’t care how much pain it might cause you. He pressed his face to your ear, breathing and panting heavily.

“That’s it, you have the prettiest-fucking-screams-oh-shit of-of all the girls here. You know I-I break in all my girls and you’ve been the best behaved little babydoll, I’m so…” he looked in your eyes, “so fucking proud right now.”

You looked away from him, intimidated by his lusty glare. He took the opening you gave him to suction his mouth over your tender neck and start biting down. You screamed loudly, no longer able to express yourself with softer cries like before. He laughed against your throat, licking a stripe up to your mouth before covering it with his.

The water ran down between your bodies, making it easier for him to slide you up and down over his torso. He broke the kiss and grabbed you by the throat. He smiled sadistically at you, forcing a tremble through your body. He pressed his lips to yours again, nipping at your bottom lip. The harder he thrusted into you, the faster you felt the heat pooling in your core.

“Gonna break you in right, gonna pump you full, maybe I’ll let you clean yourself up, or maybe I’ll–mmph-fuck–maybe I’ll make you walk around the hall on display with my cum dripping down your leg hm? Would you like that babydoll?”

His movements became sloppy and uneven. You felt him tighten his grip around your throat and waist as he rocked into you deeper, hitting you in the place that made your body spark alive with every pass. Your breathing got louder, more desperate cries escaped you as your entire frame went rigid, cunt contracting harshly over his girth. He fucked into you faster, chasing his own release, until you felt it explode inside of you, hot spend painting your insides white.

You breathed heavily, holding onto him tight as he finally loosened his grip, letting you down on your shaking legs. You couldn’t stand, so you fell to the floor on your hands and knees, water falling all around you. Blue leaned down and grabbed your chin in his hand and turned you up to face him.

“Time to show everyone what a beauty you are now that I’ve broken you in…my perfect little doll...”

Blue Jones Masterlist

Melody's 1k Celebration Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#blue jones x reader #blue jones x you #blue x reader #blue x you #blue sucker punch #asylum blue jones x reader #sucker punch #sucker punch x reader #asylum blue jones x you #sucker punch x you #asylum blue x reader #asylum blue x you #blue jones sucker punch

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sepal-sea · 7 months

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I don't think zepotha is actually bad in the way ppl (on tumblr) think it is.

Ok so goncharov functions pretty much exactly like a real movie might. Chances are, if you weren't given context to the meme, you would legitimately think this obscure homoerotic mafia movie rocketed to internet fame by shipping obsessed tumblrites was real, because it's totally plausible! It's not a shallow meme either, people legitimately posted about it in the in-depth and realistic way an online fandom would post about it, even disagreeing or having bad takes about it. Goncharov is basically the acting-out of any other tumblr fandom but now with a movie that doesn't exist. Because tumblr is a text-based platform it's really easy to line out this kind of analysis and fan behavior, and to agree on an accepted canon. Goncharov is remarkably centralized, and bits of "canon" rarely go against each other, and instead add to each other. You could easily make a real movie out of the accepted canon.

Zepotha, meanwhile, shows only the most shallow understanding of it's genre or potential fanbase. It's all "you look like this girl" and "this reminds me of this scene". It doesn't feel like a legitimate fanbase. But I think that's not inaccurate to how things that are popular on tiktok function. An obscure horror movie rocketed to tiktok fame would one hundred percent have a fandom largedly composed of only the most surface-level, visual aspects of it (of course with a small group of freaks posting the most insanely detailed videos ever about it). In that way, the trick functions exactly as intended. Also, with tiktok being a video-based platform that is of course going to predispose ppl to the most visual elements of fan culture. That's not the main reason zepotha is worse though, because videos about zepotha were not actually the main form of content on tiktok. Commenting was. Even though zepotha SHOULD be more centralized, as it WAS actually organized by one person, it's not, precisely because it was based around commenting and spreading the meme. This makes it hard to find a solid line of "canon", as comments are attached to videos which are basically impossible to neatly string together and follow along with. That's why there was so much conflicting confirmation; there were a bunch of different "the girl"s in zepotha, a ton of different "the scene"s, but anything past that was unexplored. this is the reason I think that zepotha is worse, but it's also not really anyone's fault-this would have happened due to the medium no matter what. I still think it was really cool and fun how people decided to join in on this meme, and I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing that it was being used to market a song. I appreciate the purity of goncharov as a labor of love, but I also don't think zepotha being a marketing scheme automatically makes it bad. Artists need all the help they can get, and it's nice that this person managed to make a viral meme that actually helped their song, entirely based on a fake horror movie bit. I probably would have thought zepotha was really funny and cool if goncharov didn't already exist (and was way better).

TLDR: it's not zepotha's fault it's worse than goncharov, it's tiktok's fault. Also, zepotha isn't even that bad, it's just not as good as goncharov, and we're overly defensive bc we see it as a cheap knockoff

#goncharov #zepotha #I want to reiterate it's just personal opinion that zepotha is worse than goncharov you can't really 'objectively' say anything like that #if you really like zepotha more power to you #aaaand post

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ae-azile · 12 hours

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how do you think chanbig would propose to each other? 👀

Oooh, this one is hard since their screentime is limited, so I am going off of what we have seen/fanon/personal headcanon.

I think Big's long-term unrequited love for Kinn likely made him feel slightly undesirable for a while. In a universe where he and Chan live through the close calls from their injuries, heal together, and become very close, there would likely be an adjustment period for both of them. Big is in love with someone he has known, cared for, and trusted for a long time who ISN'T Kinn. He feels so safe with Chan. As for Chan, he is extremely guarded and spent his life dedicating his time to another family. Loving Big almost seems selfish at first.

However, once Chan pulls himself out of that mindset, he can see Big has been so touch-starved, desperate for love, and is very committed to this relationship. It would take a while for either of them to think of marriage. It only happens when Chan himself starts to open up more to Big and become more comfortable being more openly loving and expressive with his affection. I think Chan knows of Big's past unrequited feelings for Kinn, but he can see that they aren't an issue. Big is now in love with Chan, and he is likely a bit clingy at times. It's almost as if he believes Chan may change his mind, pull away, or announce that Big misunderstands Chan's true feelings. Even under the slightest disagreements (usually occuring because Big's insecurities get the best of him or Chan getting overly protective) Big needs reassurance.

While Chan never saw himself getting married, he finds himself liking the idea of taking that step with Big. While there are a few concerns (falling more deeply in love and the strengthening fear of loss due to their lifestyles, the age difference, etc), he decides to take that step. He finds Big a subtle but tasteful ring, and plans a proposal.

The thing is, Chan isn't the best with words or romantic gestures. They aren't necessarily his thing. He expresses his love through acts of service and comfort. The only thing Chan can think of that won't come off as completely out of character is taking Big on a vacation to a relaxing location he has always wanted to go to. He wants to make the trip about Big, become closer with him, and when the timing feels right, he will ask.

The timing never feels right. There are opportunities at romantic locations, but Chan gets uncharacteristically nervous and doesn't pop the question. It only feels right on their last morning there. They are watching the sun rise on a beach. Chan glances over and is hit with SO much love when he sees how content and peaceful Big looks, then digs into his pocket and pulls out the box. He takes Big's hand, puts the box into his palm, then lets go as he looks at the sunrise again.

"Your call."

Big is shocked. He's delighted, but he's shocked. And for the first time, he needs to hear the words. He needs that clarification and says as much.

"I need you to say it. Please."

Even though it is hard for Chan, he can't deny Big of any request he makes, especially as something as simple as this. It feels extremely hard to say - harder than anything he has ever done for the major family - but Chan logically knows it is so simple. He loves Big and wants to commit himself to him.

"I love you. I want to spend whatever is left of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

The answer for Big is just as easy. He doesn't hesitate in saying yes. They both let themselves smile in a way they were no longer sure they had the ability of, and they extend their trip for another week because they now both know they deserve it.

Thank you @chanbig for the ask! It was so interesting to answer!

#chanbig #bigchan #chanbig proposal #kpts couples #ghost pairing #but in this universe they don't actually become ghosts 😭#proposal headcanons #thank you for the ask!

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smartycvnt · 1 year

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Trippin’

Title: Trippin' Pairing: Matt Jackson x Reader Prompt: 2. "Somewhere along the line, I fell in love with you." R WC: 1242

Y/n limped backstage with her new championship slung over her shoulders. Jamie had not gone down easy, but after a long and hard final battle to end their feud, Y/n had picked up the victory. Nick, Matt, and Kenny were all waiting backstage for Y/n. They had considered taking the whole roster out there to celebrate with her, but Kenny wanted to give his little sister her moment to celebrate on her own. There was plenty of time for pictures later on in the night, after Y/n would have had time to shower and make herself feel a bit more presentable.

"I'm so proud of you," Kenny said as he hugged Y/n tightly. Y/n hugged him back before moving onto Nick, who looked just as proud as her big brother. The only person who wasn't up and waiting for their chance was Matt, but he had always been a bit distant. There had once been a time whenever Y/n swore the two of them were thick and thieves, but those days were long gone. The guys got busy, she started to do her own thing within wrestling, and it wasn't until this past year that the four of them had gotten back together to reform the old version of their stable.

"What did you think of the match?" Y/n asked Matt as she stepped past Nick and towards him. Matt nodded as he mumbled about it being main event material. Tony was a little hesitant to put women in the main event spot, especially for a pay per view. It would have been special enough for Jamie to be the opener, but Tony had plans for that match, none of which included either Jamie or Y/n. "I'm gonna go get washed up, I feel gross."

"We'll be here," Matt called out as Y/n walked away. He sighed as he watched her leave without looking back at him. It was his own fault that they weren't as close anymore, but he couldn't handle his own feelings. Y/n was Kenny's little sister, and that should have made her untouchable to Matt since Kenny was like a brother, but Matt wanted little more than to have Y/n for himself. He wanted to hold her in his arms forever and never let go. It wasn't just so some stupid crush like when they were younger and training together, this was more intense than that. Matt had realized it years ago, which was when he had to let her go. Y/n couldn't be his, if they ever broke up, it'd ruin every good thing he and Nick had worked towards their entire lives.

"You have got to get over yourself," Kenny said as he clapped Matt on the back.

"What do you-?"

"Don't play dumb with me Matt, I know that you like Y/n. She likes you too, if she didn't, then she never would have picked us over WWE. The plan was always WWE, not AEW. She wanted it to be the four of us, and she knew that if she went with them, then we'd all follow. Instead, she picked the place where you already were because she wanted to be close to you. So please, just go talk to Y/n and tell her how you feel," Kenny said. Matt looked for any sign that Kenny didn't mean what he was saying, but came up emptyhanded. Kenny wanted this, he believed that Matt was the right guy for his precious baby sister Y/n. Matt held honored to know that Kenny trusted him with Y/n's heart, especially after seeing the bit of trouble he had gotten himself into in the past with other women.

"I won't let you down," Matt promised. Kenny nodded as he let Matt run off. He waited outside of the women's locker room for Y/n to show up. Matt wasn't generally an overly nervous guy, but the longer that he waited for Y/n to come out, the less certain that he was about his feelings being a good idea. Matt trusted Kenny more than anybody else in the world with a couple of exceptions, but that didn't mean that Kenny would be right. Matt was terrified about telling Y/n his feelings only for them to not be returned. Kenny thought he knew Y/n well, but even he had been surprised by the past few guys that she had gone out with.

"You do realize that it's weird for a guy to just stand outside of the women's locker room, don't you?" Y/n teased. Matt had been in the process of turning on his heels and running away with his tail tucked between his legs, but now he couldn't. Y/n was right there, and she was definitely fast enough to catch Matt before he got too far. Matt just froze where he stood as Y/n took her place at his side. She set her hand on his shoulder and smiled at him as she looked up and into his eyes. Matt's eyes had always been one of Y/n's favorite things. They were comforting in times of fear and uncertainty for Y/n.

"Sorry, I just needed to talk to you." Matt shoved his hands into his pockets as he kicked at the ground. Y/n moved to stand in front of Matt. He had a tendency to quite literally say things and run, and she was not in the mood for chasing him down tonight.

"You can tell me anything Matty," Y/n reassured him. Matt took a deep breath to collect his composure. Things like this weren't easy for Matt. He hated being vulnerable, especially around someone who had the means to hurt him as badly as Y/n. He doubted that he'd ever recover from her breaking his heart, not that he assumed she would want to hurt him. The issue was that he knew she could do it without meaning to, and it would have all been his own fault for getting his hopes up about her liking him. "Relax Matt, breathe. Whatever you need to say, there's space for it."

"I don't know how this happened, and I swear that I never meant it to Y/n. I'm sorry, I really am, it's just that you're you. Somewhere along the line I fell in love with you, and I wish that it wasn't this way, but it is." Matt's head dropped down after his confession was finished, so he missed the small smile that found its way onto Y/n's face after he was done speaking.

"What the hell is wrong with me? Why would being in love with me be such a terrible thing? You're treating this like it's the end of the world," Y/n said. Matt couldn't see that she was joking, so he quickly scrambled to find the words to correct himself. Y/n knew what he meant, she had struggled with accepting the same feelings for him years ago. "Gosh Matt, I'm just joking with you. I, well, I, uh, I love you too."

"I didn't mean that it was a bad thing I swear," Matt said as Y/n placed her arms around the back of his neck. "Even if I think that you could completely destroy me if you wanted to."

"Lucky for you that I don't."

#matt jackson x reader #matt jackson #aew #aew x reader #my writing

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yanderes-galore · 6 months

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HI I HAVE A CRINGEFAIL REQUEST FOR A CONCEPT OF MY CRINGEFAIL MAN CRONOS

i feel like he’d be totally delusional, that man has not had a single clever thought in his LIFE

Orderly Anon [💉]

Oh you have no idea... I'd love to try out a proper concept for him! Hope this was long enough?

Yandere! Cronus Ampora Concept

Pairing: Matesprit ❤️

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overly flirtatious behavior, Delusional behavior, Stalking, Manipulation, Brief threats of self harm mention (Cronus being Cronus), Kidnapping, Isolation, Clingy, Forced relationship.

Cronus has been rejected so many times by others I'm not surprised he'd lose it after awhile.

By the time Cronus meets you he could care less if you're a human or a troll.

He just wants someone in a quadrant to love him already.

However, while most trolls are used to a fellow troll partner, Cronus may feel better with a human darling.

That's due to the whole seeing himself as a human aspect he has.

Cronus is a very demanding yandere.

He's needy and does just about anything and everything to get the attention of you.

Cronus would even resort to emotional manipulation to either win you over or make you stay with him. (Threats of self-harm or anything like that-)

Cronus is desperate and demanding.

He'd stalk you and hound you just to have your attention.

He's a hopeless flirt, constantly complimenting and flirting with you to win you over.

He lays the flattery on thick.

He even tries to compose songs for you in hopes of impressing you.

He can be rude and overall a bad person yet tries to play it cool and be caring with you.

He is such a suck up if it means you'll love him.

He's more likely to go for Matespritship yet will honestly take anything.

I imagine Cronus is used to feeling envious so he primarily gets really childish when jealous.

Honestly if you ever did give him a chance he'd probably be easy to control.

Just dangle the fact you'll leave him and he behaves.

Honestly, since he messes with your emotions, do it back and he's humbled.

While he's easy to control in a mutual relationship, I can't say the same if you drive him over the edge.

For the most part Cronus will follow you around like a pathetic puppy.

He's... sad to look at sometimes.

He's used to rejections and envy so he's a bit more patient than you think.

Although the moment that patience falters he can be a bit volatile.

He'll throw a bit of a fit, complaining and yelling about how hard he has it.

He so bad just wants you to love him.

At this point he feels he actually needs it.

He'd be a yandere to eventually just kidnap you if he feels he could lose his chance.

In his eyes you are his last chance of being loved.

No one else likes him so he is really desperate to have you.

If Cronus snapped he would isolate you in a room away from anyone else.

After all, if he isn't going to have you willingly, then he might as well take what he wants!

He's waited long enough, hasn't he?

Cronus does not seem like a violent yandere.

He's dramatic and emotional, he's more likely just to be an annoyance if he hates someone around you.

Can't see him killing anyone.

Be it you joined him in a quadrant willingly or not, Cronus is physically affectionate.

I like the HC people have that violet and/or fuchsia bloods feel cold to the touch due to being aquatic.

Cronus certainly craves your warmth and feels cold when he gives physical affection.

He has a poor sense of personal space so he is very clingy.

Cronus may slightly be a worship yandere, as I said before he'll do anything to appeal to you.

He is incredibly delusional.

Even if he has you locked away where only he can see you, he still thinks there's a chance you'll love him willingly.

He feels somehow you hold romantic feelings for him and is going to fish them out somehow.

He thinks that he's the only one for you.

He isn't really a giving yandere.

For the most part he takes.

He takes affection, attention, warmth, etc....

However he also intends to try to make you happy as his partner to keep you.

Cronus feels like he'd be an entitled yandere due to his demanding traits.

He feels you're his and is willing to take what he feels is his.

He may say blood color doesn't matter but he's still just as entitled as any violet blood.

Overall the primary traits of Cronus is the fact he's demanding, dramatic, clingy, flirtatious, lacks boundaries, delusional, and is very desperate.

He can possibly be controlled if you agree to being his partner.

He will take time to snap, but when he does, he comes in full force.

Cronus is willing to play nice with his darling if they are willing to go along with it.

The moment he realizes he isn't getting anywhere with you, however...

Well... then he's done playing nice, isn't he? It's about time he gets what he wants.

#yandere homestuck #yandere cronus ampora #yandere homestuck x reader

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yourdyingwish · 7 months

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(Maybe I'm doing the weird parasocial internet thing to put too much faith in you,but I genuinely see you as someone whos a trusted adult with nice opinions) that bit aside do you have any thoughts on the transition from college to actually working and having a life that's nice? Currently in the post grad but not working in my 20s sufferings (to offset this I do genuinely hope you're having a nice time!!!!)

Haha I am just a person but I can probably speak to this a bit! My transition from college to adult life was weird and chaotic, sometimes very difficult, but honestly not bad. I also was lucky at that time in many small ways. I landed an office job at my alma mater in my field, which I guess wasn't totally luck since I applied for it and worked hard, but I was still very fortunate in that sense. I also met a girl who would later become my best friend when she moved in two doors down from me and I almost hit her with my bike. Little things like that, and how cheap my rent was (my room in Buffalo was $325 a month back in 2017!!) really improved my ability to handle things, because I could be financially independent of my parents even though I was making like $15 an hour and had friends closeby. I know not everyone has that.

But with all that in mind I think the best advice I have–the one thing I did that was something I did and wasn't just good fortune or random chance–is to embrace your freedom, fall in love with the world, and believe that you have agency to shape your own life. And don't fetishize being in your early 20s. It's ok to just grow up. That sounds vague but I think it's so easy at that transitional period of your 20s to become either very internal and don't go out much, or maybe get overly focused on social dynamics or finding a relationship.

I did none of those things; instead I sort of just...felt very hungry for the world? That’s the best way I can explain it lol I know it sounds corny. I took driving lessons and bought myself a car, I got a bike I rode on weekends, I decorated my room how I pleased, took lots of pictures, went on solo hikes and road trips. I got myself a cat. I put myself in situations that were well outside my comfort zone. To explain it via an anecdote: one evening in the summer I got off work, and realized it was only 5pm and that I could go do whatever I wanted. I drove 45 minutes to a lake, bought a swimsuit at a gas station, and when I got there I dove into the water and watched the sunset as I swam. It occurred to me that even though many people COULD go to the lake on a weekday (it was free to swim there) they just…didn’t. It was one of many times that a mental barrier broke for me and I realized how much freedom I had.

So year! I went out into the world and just tried to experience things–not in a way that translated into a vision of success, or like...instagram-friendly travel envy–and I really managed to experience a lot of beautiful things in life. Here are some photos from that period of time!

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ticklystuff · 2 months

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If you’re still doing the team comp thing, my team is Misha, Bronya, Hanya and Fu Xuan

ask game is closed!

you are the first person i've seen on this site to ever mention misha lmao kudos to you anon

your ask actually prompted me to look up gameplay videos of him and he kinda slaps?? he's like a poverty jingliu LOL

who’s the most ticklish character

BRONYA i swear she has the cutest giggles like they're not overly sweet or high-pitched and squeaky but the stuttered and uncontrolled laughter is a nice contrast to how she normally holds herself. like they still have this refined sound to them and they still very much sound like bronya but it's a different side y'know? also she covers her mouth when tickled because she's embarrassed about her tickle laugh aslkdjf misha is a close second though! he's the type of person to have those frantic giggles when tickled ehe

who’s the character that most people would assume isn't ticklish, but actually is

hanya because of the whole mara-struck thing but she's still capable of feeling tickles. she's very intimidating though so it's very rare to hear her laugh from tickles, but i think she'd have this nice airy laugh to her

who’s the character that everyone gangs up on and tickles

i'm so sorry this one was hard because i can't imagine your team coordinating themselves enough for a tickle fight aksldjf like tickling for your team would probably be a heavily one-on-one thing ummmm if your team were to gang up on one specific person i think it would be fu xuan because she tends to stay out of these things a lot and she is the smallest so she's an easy target lol

who’s the character that somehow knows everyone else’s tickle spots and reveals them to others

fu xuan! she is the master diviner after all and would be able to tell someone's spots just from a quick divination. i don't think she'd be the type of person that would spread them though and keeps them to herself to gain the upper hand should she need them hehehe

who's the character with one specific tickle spot that only one other person knows about

fu xuan knows all tickle spots but for a real answer i think misha would have a spot just on the outer side of his kneecaps and he's a bit clumsy so one time he fell and injured one knee and bronya made sure to check up on him. after tending to the injured spot, she insisted on checking the other leg and when she touched that specific spot, misha squealed and ended up kicking her aklsdjflk he apologized like 20 times and she just told him it's ok through gritted teeth

who’s the most likely to win gang tickle wars

oh mmmmm idk i think things would be pretty even between them, except fu xuan because she's really bad when it comes to these kinda things and kinda just flops down on the ground when tickled lol but i think i'll give this answer to bronya! she's often on the front lines so she probably is physically capable of taking down the others when it comes to it

which character has a kink for tickling

none!

which character didn’t even know they were ticklish until another character tickled them

i think they would all know they're ticklish before joining the team but i think hanya would be interested in finding out if she still is in her current state. i can see her entrusting this request to either fu xuan or bronya and they go ahead and test a few spots and are able to confirm that she still is!

which two characters have tickle fights all the time

okay i think bronya would love spending time with hanya and fu xuan because the girlies are bffs and she loves hearing stories about the xianzhou and places outside of belobog. plus, she thinks it's beneficial to spend time with teammates. as for tickling, i think she'd mainly get into tickle fights with fu xuan because she sees fu xuan as a sibling figure (even though she's old enough to be her great great great great grandmother). for hanya, though, tickle fights are a little harder to come by because hanya mainly associates tickling with the times when she and xueyi would have tickle fights as kids, so hanya doesn't really partake in them as much, but she might give a poke or two to bronya, mainly out of curiosity.

#bronya #hanya #fu xuan #misha #honkai star rail #tickling

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