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pinkanonwrites · 5 months

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

All art by @archie-sunshine

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

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

NSFW WRITING AND IMAGERY BELOW THE CUT!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does it hurt?”

“Somethin’ like dat.”

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

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

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

“Yeah, yeah. Just-”

“Be careful. I know.”

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

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

“Well? Get it outta there!”

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

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

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

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

“What was that?”

“Gh! Nothin’! Don't worry ‘bout it!”

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

CLANG!

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

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

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

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

“N-No!”

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

“...Maybe?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously?”

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

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

“...Y-Yeah. Yeah. Yer good.”

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

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

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

“Ah! Stop!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can handle it! I-I can!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whuh… Wheh?” He garbled.

“How you feeling, hun?”

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

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

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

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

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

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pseudowho · 3 months

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Defending Your Honour

A series in which the JJK guys stick-it to the creeps and perverts bothering the reader.

A multi-fic in a series ❤️🫖☕

Part 1 (Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, and Todo Aoi) link here!

Part 2 (Higuruma Hiromi, Ino Takuma and Itadori Yuuji) link here!

More JJK men and women to come

Trigger Warning: unsolicited dick pics, upskirting, catcalling, threatened sexual assault/reader followed into bathroom

Gojo Satoru

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"Baaaaabe," Satoru whinged from the sofa, at the exact pitch required to set your eyes rolling. You walked back to him, blushing as you felt his eyes roll languidly up and down your bare legs beneath his oversized t-shirt.

Plopping the popcorn bowl down, you sat on the sofa beside him, lazily draping your legs over his lap, tilting your head inquisitively towards him as he teased his long fingers over your thighs. He felt you look at him questioningly, and smirked.

"Nothin'," he shot, "s'too late. Was gonna ask you what movie you wanted, but you're too late. I picked already."

"Oh, really?" You teased, swirling a finger on his pecs, "And what did you choose?"

"Only the cult-classic noughties Anne Hathaway gem...the Princess Diaries. Two." You clapped, squealing with genuine delight as Satoru laughed, pulling you closer onto his lap by the legs.

The movie rolled, and you cuddled under Satoru's arm, taking turns, giggling as you fed each other popcorn. Your phone buzzed, once. You ignored it. Your phone buzzed, again. You ignored it. It buzzed again-- again-- again--

"Someone's popular tonight," Satoru teased, "you wanna get that?" You squirmed uncomfortably under his arm, your lip curled in disgust.

"No, just leave it. Nothing to worry about." Satoru raised an unconvinced eyebrow, but tucked you closer, deliberately missing your mouth with the next piece of popcorn he offered you, shoving it at a nostril instead. You laughed, batting him away.

A few minutes passed, and the incessant buzzing of your phone began again. Satoru felt you tense under his arm. He sat forward, pausing the movie and turning to you.

"Look, you know I won't push for an answer, but...is everything alright?" You turned away from him, lips curled up again, upset.

"This guy from work..." you started guiltily, fidgeting, "...he just keeps messaging me. Won't leave me alone, I-- I've been ignoring him for weeks." Satoru's face pinched in pain and concern. He reached out a hand, threading his fingers through yours.

"Babe...you could have told me." You shrugged, eyes tearing up now. You reached out for your phone, unlocking it.

"I didn't want you to think it was my faul--" you cried out in disgust, dropping your phone into your lap with a jolt, sniffling, face crumpling, "--I'm so sick of this, Satoru."

Satoru slowly reached a hand out to your phone, hesitating for you to stop him. You shook your head tearfully, gesturing loosely at your phone for him to take it.

Satoru's face morphed into something ugly as he scrolled through photo after photo of another man's penis, sometimes flaccid, sometimes hard, held in his hand, covered in cum, in different lighting, at different angles--

"This," Satoru spat, "is not your fault. None of it is." Satoru dropped your phone on the coffee table, turning fully to you again, "Do you know where this guy lives?"

You frowned at Satoru, nodding slowly, considering; "What...are you going to do?"

Satoru's lips quirked at the edges into a dirty little smile; "Nothing for you to worry about. Don't sweat it. I'm the strongest. You know it."

An hour or so later, the owner of the unwanted penis stepped into his apartment, still buzzing after sending you so many good photos, and from the office no less, it was so filthy, so naughty, he just, just knew you'd love it--

"Hey there, guy. I've been waiting for you."

Grabbed bodily by this unreasonably strong, tall, white-haired man, your assailant cried out in terrified indignation as Satoru threw him onto his sofa. Satoru sat on the coffee table opposite him, eyes covered by a black blindfold, spidery legs spread and blocking the man's exit.

"Unlock your phone," Satoru commanded, sounding almost cheerful. The man glared, snarling.

"I'm not unlocking my fucking phone--"

"Unlock your phone," Satoru ordered again, now cold, methodically dangerous, "now."

The assailant reached for his phone with a trembling hand, unlocking it. Satoru held out his own hand expectantly. The man hesitated. Satoru clapped his fingers against his palm, in a display of impatience. Begrudgingly, the man handed over his phone to Satoru, who hummed as he flicked through the disgusting messages the man had been sending you.

"You know," Satoru said conversationally, his words sending shivers of fear up the man's spine, "I kill monsters for a living...did you know that? Probably not." Satoru sucked his teeth, preparing a multi-participant messaging list on the man's phone.

"Got any sisters? Brothers?" Satoru inquired. The man nodded, uncertain. Satoru smiled, as if delighted by the man's cooperation, "Names?"

Shakily, the man reeled off their names, his stomach sinking lower and lower as Satoru asked for more names-- his boss, his best friend, his best friend's wife, his solicitor...

With a happy sigh of finality, Satoru clapped his hands together, throwing the phone back onto the sofa.

"Hope they like your photos, anyway," Satoru chirped to the man, who stared at his frantically buzzing phone as if it were an unexploded bomb, "no takey-backsies!"

Satoru stood, walking to the front door. He paused, turning back slowly, the very air within the flat seeming to crush in around the man with some inconceivable force.

"And if you ever go near my girl again," Satoru offered, calculating, menacing, "the next monster I'll kill is you."

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Megumi and Nobara

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"She doesn't want to go to the book shop with you, she wants to come with me, there's this dress I think she'll look really cute in--"

"--she's my girlfriend Kugisaki!" Megumi snapped, tugging your hand in his so they sat flush against his thigh. You hummed, pretending to consider your options.

"I dunno Megs...if the dress is cute enough, maybe I'll be Nobara's girlfriend instead." Megumi spun to you, appalled, and you laughed as he and Nobara bickered with each other on the way to the escalator.

Ginza was busy, buzzing with the animated, vibrant ebb and flow of the wealthy, and the excitable tourists, and the perfectly-coiffed fashionistas. You, Megumi and Nobara tumbled through the crowd, being reshuffled by the constant bump of passers-by, and you ended up entering the escalator two people ahead of them.

Leaning round to shoot them an apologetic smile, you saw Megumi and Nobara remained embroiled in their sibling-ish argument. You rolled your eyes, facing forward, eyes up to the twinkling lights of the shopping centre.

You thought very little of the twitching of the back of your skirt, so close was the crowd. You heard a cough behind you, loud, barking. You heard another cough, and another, and another.

"Hey-- hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You tried to turn at the sound of Nobara's voice, but failed, shoulders bracketed by the press of the crowd.

"Megumi-- that piece of shit took photos up your girlfriend's skirt! He's covering up the camera noise with coughs!"

"Bastard!"

You cried out as you were shoved forwards, your fingers cracking painfully against the metal of the escalator, and a man in a baseball cap forced his way past you, phone in hand. Nobara and Megumi shouted, in pursuit, Megumi pulling you to your feet as the crowd decompressed at the top of the escalator.

You were confused, humiliated and all turned-around as you staggered at the top of the escalator. Pitying eyes glazed over you in passing, the flow of people giving you a wide berth. You blushed, and clutched the hem of your skirt, feeling so exposed, pulling down the hem at the back.

Megumi had stumbled ahead in chase, but turned back and grasped your hand, his eyes beseeching you to chase with him. Nobara tore off ahead, rounding a corner. You nodded, sniffling, and Megumi raised your clasped hands to his face, pressing a kiss to your palm.

You sprinted together after Nobara and found her pinning the capped man against a wall, effortlessly gripping the front of his hoodie while he squirmed. She was going through his phone, lips twisted in distaste at the intimate photographs he had taken of you.

Megumi approached, fists clenching and unclenching, his nose scrunched in disgust. Nobara held the phone close to her chest, eyeing him inquisitively. Megumi shot you a sideways glance, and shook his head at Nobara.

"Save them for the cops," he snapped, "but for now..." Megumi turned to you; "What do you want to do with this bastard?"

Your lip trembled, and you bit it between your teeth to still it. You felt violated, furiously vengeful.

"I think," you shook out, "we should find this guy a skirt." With matching satisfied, wicked smiles, Megumi and Nobara rounded on your assailant.

The sales assistants manning the changing rooms did not dare approach the scene that was unfolding behind the curtains, some time later. While the capped man frantically sobbed, his knobbly-kneed hairy legs woefully exposed by the cute miniskirt he wore, Megumi kept him arm-locked against the wall, endlessly berating and insulting him, while Nobara knelt, taking miserably unflattering photos of his taint under the hem of his skirt.

You stood back, grimly satisfied as your assailant wept his apologies. As you wiped away tears of mirth, Megumi paused in his bullying for just a moment, to smile at you, eyes soft, warm, full of sincere adoration.

You mused to yourself as Nobara slapped the back of the man's thigh, making him shriek; it's not strictly morally just, you thought to yourself, but I don't strictly care.

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Toge Inumaki

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You found yourself so nervous, the first 'first date' you had had in quite some time. Your date, Inumaki, seemed equally unsure, but rolled with a quiet mischievous confidence that sent butterflies through your tummy.

You had approached him, your outfit suddenly seeming so overdone compared to his hoodie and jeans, and you opened your mouth to apologise for being overdressed. The words stopped in your throat as Inumaki's eyes glimmered with joy, and he gestured up and down your body with one finger, before clasping his hands over his heart and tipping his head back towards the sky.

You pressed a hand over your mouth, blushing, and Inumaki stepped forward to grasp your hands and bring them away from your face, swinging them affectionately in his own. You bumped the side of your head against his, realising with a curling warmth, that he had plaited his fingers in yours as you walked together down the street.

The day passed, in a flurry of arcades, street food, souvenir shopping, buying small gifts for each other...the whole day had been spent in wordless gestures, familiar and comfortable. Inumaki's heart stuttered each time he managed to tease you into a twinkling laugh.

Heading home, hands still swinging together, rich steam and hoppy beer aromas tumbled out of the closely packed ramen shops. You and Inumaki found yourselves pressed uncomfortably close to a pack of young men as you squeezed through the crowd. One man squeezed pricklingly, unnecessarily against you as he passed, the street wide enough to render his intimacy completely unjustifiable.

Inumaki paused, watchful eyes seeing as you drew your shoulders up in defence.

"Oh hey baby! You on a date? Hey bro, your girlfriend just tried to feel me up!" You blushed in furious mortification as your shoulders drew even closer towards your chin, pulling your jacket around yourself, keeping your head down and hoping the assault would just go away.

The young man's pack of friends, four of them, laughed and jeered, taking swigs from cans of beer and turning to join in the game.

"Nice outfit babe! Think I've seen something like it on a street corner near here..."

"Yeah, that jacket ain't coverin' much, sweetheart!"

"Aww, you cold? C'mere baby, I've got something nice and warm for you in my pocket."

As the pack continued to laugh and jeer at you, your happiness shrivelled, and you were reduced to nothing, a pecked worm between birds.

Inumaki raised his hand, slowly drawing his mask down, revealing his unusual facial markings. The pack of men paused, then laughed harder. The original perpetrator raised his beer to Inumaki, and began to speak as Inumaki waggled his tongue in preparation.

"Think you've got a bit of Sharpie on your face, ma--"

"Kiss each other-- like you mean it."

Gripped by something other than his own thoughts and desires, the young man stopped, dropping his can to the floor with a metallic wet thunk...before turning to his friend and grasping his face, pressing a passionate, staggering kiss to his lips. The kiss was enthusiastically reciprocated, and two of the others fought each other for the right to lock lips with the final man.

"Put your hands down his pants."

The crowd around the young men hooted and whistled at the show, as the enforced make-out session grew steamier, beer spilling onto the floor around them, wet kisses sounding through the air, hands down pants, groping.

"Keep going-- really enjoy yourselves."

As the scene before you unfolded into something increasingly erotic and debauched, your jaw dropped, all of your own embarrassment forgotten, and Inumaki raised his mask with a cough. Pulling you to wind through the crowd of onlookers and raised, clicking phone cameras, Inumaki turned and shot you a wink.

You laughed, desperately appreciative, and already planning your second date.

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Fushiguro Toji

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"Toji-- Toji-- I mean it, slow down, I need to pee!"

Toji sighed, brisk and pissed-off (his factory settings), and stopped pulling you along by the hand. He shot you a withering look, until you batted your eyelashes, clasping your hands together as you wiggled at him.

Despite himself, he smirked, glancing away so you didn't see (though you already had), and started scouring the street for public bathrooms.

"Come on, pea-bladder," he mocked, his deep voice slow and drawling, "let's find you somewhere to piss."

"Toji, don't be so gross--"

"Don't be so needy, jeez, or you're payin' for your own dinner." You rolled your eyes, punching his shoulder affectionately. Rounding a corner, a set of public bathrooms appeared opposite a row of shops.

Raising Toji's hand to your face, you pressed a kiss to the back of his enormous fist. Toji pinched your chin lovingly, before spinning you by the shoulders and planting a hefty slap to your bum.

"Hurry up kid. If someone prettier passes while you're in there, I ain't stickin' round." Toji laughed as your jaw dropped, aghast, and pushed you towards the bathrooms.

Toji chuckled to himself as you skipped away, his eyes only briefly registering the figure loitering outside the bathroom as you headed in.

A few minutes passed and you stepped, relieved, out of the stalls and walked to the sink to clean your hands. Sidling from his hiding spot round the corner, a heavy-jacketed man looked towards you as you gasped, immediately backing yourself away against a wall.

"All alone, baby?" The man challenged, tongue sliding across his front teeth as he approached you, a flick knife clacking in his hand. Steeped in terror, your eyes filled with tears, and you were miserably trapped in the corner against a toilet stall. You opened your mouth to beg for your life, but were interrupted by a low, dangerous voice.

"Nah, man. She ain't alone. But you are."

In abrupt, bloody violence, Toji swung a fist, shattering the man's nose and front teeth in an instant. The man's head snapped back and you screamed, spats of blood splattering down to mix with the stale-water-toilet-paper-mulch of the public bathroom floor.

Toji drew his fist back again as the man staggered, Toji's face twisted in filthy, murderous rage; "Chickenshit little coward, I'll fucking gut yo--"

Toji stopped stock-still at your pale little face staring up in terror...at him now, not your would-be assailant twisting like a maggot on the wet floor. Toji felt a hot rush of shame at having been the cause of your terror.

"Babe..." he started, lost for words. You trembled before him. Toji gulped, turning away from you, unable to look you in the eye. As your frightened heart slowed, Toji took a deep, measured breath in through his nose, and out of his mouth.

"I...frightened you. I'm so--" the words caught in Toji's throat, so alien to him. He took a deep breath and tried again; "I'm sorry. Let's finish this guy off together, huh? Before we take him to the cops."

You hesitated, before nodding, tearful eyes smiling up at Toji, sending his belly tumbling. Lifting the bloodied man up by his collar, Toji grinned devilishly at him.

"Swirly..." Toji began to chant, raising his voice as you started to join in, clapping in rhythm, "Swirly, swirly, swirly--"

Other passers-by found alternate public bathrooms that day, put off by the sounds of repeated flushing and strangled wet sobs.

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Ahhh. I managed to find a bit of love even for Toji, who is so SHOCKINGLY in looks and character like my older brother 💀💀💀🫠

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lokisgoodgirl · 7 months

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Sticks and Stones: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (2) Resolved to make an effort, Loki tries his best. But old habits die hard, some harder than others. Warnings: Minors DNI. Language. Ex-Loki. Smut references/ Wankst. Humour/Mild angst. (w/c 4.8k) Recommended Folklore Track: Mirrorball

“Oh blast it all,” Thor wailed like a child, throwing a pile of sticks to the side. Another bundle of promising kindle had turned to mush in his hands.

“We need to find ones that aren’t wet, Odinson – I told you. Sometimes they don’t seem wet, but they are wet.” Steve instructed, standing abruptly from where he’d sat on his haunches. Dismay was thick in the air. “Everything is wet here, Rogers." Thor whinged, kicking leaves. "The allusive flame taunts me.”

Loki sucked in his cheeks. The urge to expel a witty innuendo was almost unbearable. But he was trying to be amenable. Turning over a new leaf, as it were.

When the four of them had trudged back to the cottage last night, Loki had turned in to his sparse lodgings immediately with only the most cursory of bedtime salutations. To his surprise, sleep had descended quickly. He had been expecting to toss and turn for hours on that thin single bed, cursing Rogers and his brother and you; each with the time and thoroughness that was due. But he had slept well. And when he woke, the smell of bacon wafting through the floorboards greeted him.

Your laughter chimed against the clatter of porcelain downstairs, his brothers following suit. He had snuggled deeper into the lumpy pillow, inhaling in the way he used to against your hair. And now, beneath a canopy of green and gold autumnal majesty, they had made camp for this morning’s torture; fire-building. Loki buried his hands in another damp pile of foliage, grasping a hunk of twigs he found there. To hel with it, he thought as he closed his eyes; feeling secretive warmth spreading from his fingertips. Magic wrapped around each stick of wood concealed beneath copper leaves, drying it instantly. He glanced over to you, thrumming some moss between your fingers. “I found some dry ones,” he said nonchalantly, hoping it sounded believable.

You peered at his outstretched hands. “Oh yeah…” you replied. Loki frowned as your attention swung back to the wisped moss being pulled apart in your fingertips. “Well, let’s get this show on the road.” Thor looked over at his brother, aghast. “Cheater,” he rumbled loudly. To his side, only Steve’s ass was visible, shaking side to side as he still searched on his hands and knees through the undergrowth for where dry wood might lurk. Loki turned, one palm facing up. A column of ferocious flame burst from his skin, funnelling up like a portal. The sound of its violence ripped the air, squawks of local wildlife jibbering in the trees above. Steve lost his balance, falling to the side into the shrubbery. He let out a strangled cry, while Thor scooted backwards and knocked him further into the bushes.

“If I wanted to cheat,” Loki snarled, “there would be much easier ways to do so, brother.”

As quickly as it appeared, the flame ceased.

Loki turned back to you, smoothing his anorak. “Sorry about that,” he quipped with a cheerful smile.

In the time it had taken to complete his theatrics, you had selected one of his pile which you deemed suitable. You turned it over in your hands, fingers curled around the trunk of the weighty stick. Loki swallowed thickly. The innocently sensual glint in your eyes as you looked at it was almost too much to bear. Or maybe it was his imagination.

You hadn’t raised a smile all day, after all. He knelt on his haunches, mirroring your intrigue while you ran a finger down the larger stick. “We need to whittle a groove down here” you said. Loki nodded, moving his eyes between the line your digit took and your face.

Your eyes met.

He saw your gaze drop to his lips, only for a millisecond. “Could you?” you whispered, avoiding eye contact again.

In a flash of green, Loki produced a short dagger. He held it to you, handle first.

“I mean really we should use the one in your pack,” you smirked, eyeing Steve brushing sodden leaves from his ass as Thor fumbled fruitlessly in the undergrowth in a last ditch attempt. Loki felt his heart pound faster. He saw his chance. “But mine is better, Agent” he murmured darkly. “You know that.” “Guys – come over, please!” you shouted over his shoulder. Loki flinched. Truly, she now immune from my overtures, he mused bitterly; remembering the times a line like that would have had you groaning in his ear like a harlot.

He smoothed a rakish curl back from his forehead, collecting himself while his brother and the captain gathered round. Thor was muttering Asgardian curses under his breath, his hair wild. Twigs stuck out at obscure angles, a small slug clinging to the scruff of his jawline. Loki peeled it off, flicking it away.

“I think not that I was made for nature, brother,” Thor lamented under his breath. Loki chuckled, cut short as his dagger, poised in your hand, began to cut away at the centre of the large stick. There was a sharp intake of breath beside him. “That’s not standard issue,” Steve chided quietly, lips hardening. Loki folded his arms, elbowing Rogers in the process. “Watch what I’m doing,” you said sternly, eyeing the men with suspicion. They stood in rapt attention, watching every rut of the blade, every splinter and chunk which sprung forth. But not Loki.

Loki watched your face. Each furrow of your brow, flick of concentration, ghost of a smile as you looked with satisfaction at the result. “Perfect,” you murmured to yourself, running a cautious fingertip through the rough groove. “Now what?” Thor grunted. “Tis still a damnable stick.” You laughed the sweetest, most condescending laugh that Loki had ever heard.

It made his heart twist in his chest. “Now...you each take one of these” you handed each of them a smaller stick from Loki's haul. Loki’s was the longest.

A smirk curled the corners of his mouth against his better judgement. You rolled your eyes, snatching it back and switching it with Steve. “Sharpen these, so they are at a 45 degree angled point. Remember your angles from yesterday, Thor?” Thor frowned. You made the angle with your forearm. “Ah, yes” he smiled. “The little mountain.” For the next few minutes, Loki felt your appraising stare fall on him in intervals. He crafted his edge to perfection, sliding the dagger’s blade so close to the wood’s bark it almost shone. The rough hacking of the other men’s pocketknives peppered the air. Aside from that, and birdsong, there was silence.

When all of them had finished, you called them back around a small, cleared patch of forest floor. The branch with the groove you had made lay on the ground. The three men stared at it, sharpened sticks in hand. Suddenly it all felt very...human. They glanced at each other vacantly. “Loki?” you chirped, gesturing to the ground. He raised an eyebrow.

“On my knees?” he heard himself purr, the feigned incredulity palpable. You nodded sternly, just once.

“Very well,” he murmured, sinking down.

His knees hit the leaves with a crisp, gentle thump.

Immediately, wetness began to seep into the fabric. Like the gusset of her underwear, he mulled. He looked up at you the way he used to while you would have him kiss up your thighs, yanking his hair as he atoned for some imagined grave misdeed with sexual favour. The essence of his vulnerability. A rarity, only for you. He was such a slut for you, back then. Anything you desired. Anything he desired- “Loki?!” you snapped. He had been staring at your chest, eyes glazed. Carefully, he tilted his chin upwards. “Apologies,” he husked. The swallow which bobbed in your throat made his loins ache. Your voice was high. Higher than she intends, surely; he thought.

“Kind of...position it so the big stick with the groove is between your knees-” you’d said.

Loki shuffled, straddling the branch. It brushed the bulge of his cock pulsing lightly against his trousers. “Between my thighs, you say?” he asked innocently. “No, your knees. Well – thighs, sort of yes. Just keep it steady.” You were becoming flustered, Loki noticed. Loki liked that.

You bent down slightly, touching the hard round of his bicep before recoiling like it was a hot stove. “You um...hold the stick like this, no...like-”

Kneeling beside him, you adjusted the angle of his hands to grip the smaller, pointed stick. “That’s it...and then you rub it back and-” you swallowed, “-back and forth. On the one between your thighs. Knees.” Loki bit his lip, beginning to do just that. The sound was awful as his pace quickened after the first few strokes. Scraping, raw squeals that jarred the air.

“Like this?” he panted. A mist of sweat was forming at his hairline. He could feel it tingle.

“Like that,” you replied shakily. Your breaths were short. They were in time with the thrust of his arms as you hovered by his shoulder, guiding his wrist as it pumped back and forth. Thor and Steve glanced silently at each other, brows raised.

Loki saw Thor’s jaw drop from the corner of his eye, a meaty finger protruding from one straightened arm to the smoke beginning to waft from the groove. “Look, Rogers…” he gasped with the wonder of a child. The smoke became thicker, billowing in heavy flow. You fumbled to the side, grabbing some tufts of dried moss.

“Now tip it in, tip the ash in-” you said frantically, barely contained excitement in your voice. Loki complied, watching as the smouldering embers blossomed within the web of moss.

“Be careful,” he whispered, setting the stick in his hands down. He brought them up protectively around the moss. You held it forward, “blow, Loki” you murmured, keeping your eyes fixed on the small ball which had begun to smoke.

“Blow?” he said, forehead creasing while you nodded. Your eyes narrowed at the tuft clenched between your fingers. “Until you get-” “-a spark,” Loki finished quietly.

He blew on the moss, flinching as the vegetation burst with flame. Thor and Steve gasped, crowding round as you dropped the raging ball of fire to the groove of the stick below. You grabbed Loki’s spear, prodding the moss. Loki opened his mouth and closed it again.

He felt that he should be bored. Or annoyed. Longing for home comforts and solitude or some such. But, admittedly, he would not have thought of this whole scenario. Against his wishes, he had learned something.

What you had done? How you had transformed nothing into...something. Like magic. When he set fire to things, he cared not how they burned. Just that they burned. And, Loki thought, they always do.

After what felt like an eternity, Loki closed the door to the cottage and turned the key.

He was the last one in, favouring a meandering pace behind the three others huddled together in a jovial formation. Water saturated him, rolling in thick droplets from his forehead down the carve of his jawline. He had never known rain like it. It had fallen like milk, heavy and thick and relentless in every direction.

Hair was plastered to his skull, to his neck. It stuck in clumpy tendrils and made a weird noise against the garish anorak when he moved. He flicked his hands forward with frustration. The clench of his stomach against the soaking fleece made him shudder.

After the first attempt, he had reluctantly admitted there was no point in drying himself every ten seconds. Even magic, he had surmised, was no match for the English countryside.

Muffled roars sounded from the living room. Loki rounded the corner, cursing every squelching step. Predictably, his brother’s head was lodged in the soaking neck of his roll neck sweater. His hiking trousers lay in a bedraggled heap on the floor, water pooling around them through the floorboards. Muddy bootprints were smeared in circles over the rug. Steve held the hem of the sweater, rolled over Thor’s head and arms, yanking it. “I’m going-to take-your gosh-darned-head-off,” he grunted; before there was a wet pop. Thor stumbled backwards, landing in a chair in the corner. He began to laugh.

Loki rolled his eyes. “I wish to bathe,” he said plainly before turning to the doorway. Steve’s eyes widened. “The lady got first dibs, Laufeyson. You’ll have to wait. Shouldn’t have dallied on the ridge.” Loki froze, a grimace descending.

He closed his eyes, clicking his neck with a tilt to the side. Thor laughed, shaking his head. He pointed to Loki, then to Steve. “What need have we three of hot baths?”

“Speak not to me of my affinity of baths. Tis you who had your very own bathhouse on Asgard” Loki snarled. He rolled his molars, the deep chill setting into his bones only half born from the wet clothes sticking to every crevice. He looked longingly at the bathroom door, thinking of what lay out of reach. The sweet caress of hot water on his aching muscles, covering his weather-worn limbs with the kiss of a million bubbles that only sought to bring him pleasure. A vision of your naked body sinking in foam fluttered in front of his waking eyes, your lips parted to the ceiling as you let your thighs fall open-

The boiler made an alarming rattle in the kitchen.

“I’ll check it,” he muttered, casting a final glance to the bathroom door as he passed. He heard a splash. And then a small groan of satisfaction.

In the kitchen, Loki gripped the counter-lip and hung his head. He stared at the greyed cream of the surface while seidr rolled up his body, every inch of sodden fabric plastered to him airing free. A waft hit his hair, blowing it over his shoulders. Shaking it back, his eyes meeting the row of mis-matched mugs from yesterday. “When in Nilfheim,” he mumbled to himself like a mantra.

He returned to the living room, three steaming mugs in hand. The others had managed to light a stove in the corner and were now wearing pyjamas. Tops and bottoms, Loki noticed. A rarity indeed. He looked again at the fire. The flames were small, but they were there. He decided to be pleasant. “Did you use the groove technique?” Loki smiled, setting a mug down on the armrest of Thor’s chair. The men laughed while Loki straightened, staring pensively into the licking flames. With mild interest, the god realised that this was the first time he had been in this room. No mean feat, considering that the cottage only had three downstairs. The kitchen, the bathroom, and this one. He glanced around at the sparse décor, as antiquated and dulled and beige as the other spaces. “I remember those,” Steve nodded, aiming towards a radio on a corner-shelf. Loki chuckled, before sipping his tea. He smacked his lips. “Honestly, Rogers. What possessed you to house us in this place? Surely there are nicer.” Steve shrugged. “I thought it would be good for us,” he said, brushing his pyjama bottoms. “I mean, look at this chair!?” Loki exclaimed, gesturing to where his brother sprawled. It was some kind of cream leather, cracked at the worn areas where a thousand mortal arses had sat. Stains adorned the peel of its chafed skin. “A son of Odin, in a chair such as that. It’s insulting.” The words were bitter, but a playful smile tugged at his lips. Steve saw it. “Actually it is rather comfortable, brother” Thor piped up. He re-adjusted himself, leaning backwards, “rather comfortable indee-” In a flash, his tea sloshed in the air; hands flying to grip the armrest as the whole chair slid back to a lying position. Loki jumped to his feet, seidr fizzling in the palms of his hands. “Calm down,” Steve said, patting Loki’s lower back. “It’s a recliner, it’s supposed to do that. Had those in my day too.”

There was silence but for the crackling of the fire which had grown to a healthy blaze. It was comfortable. Loki quietly transformed his clothes to the flannel pyjama bottoms that had lain neatly folded beneath his pillow upstairs. “What about the top? You’ll freeze.” Steve murmured, pulling his mug closer to his chin. Loki smiled, shaking his head. Fresh curls bounced around his collarbone. “I think not that a thin layer of cotton will help in that regard, Rogers.” “Modesty, then” Steve scoffed, nudging his head in the direction of the bathroom. Both brothers rolled their eyes.

“Our dear Agent has seen me in much more raucous states of undress, I assure you” he sniffed, staring pointedly at the flames. He could almost feel the wrinkle of Steve’s nose. There was another silence which hung between them, heavier this time. “What happened, Loki?” Steve whispered, leaning forward like a teen girl at a sleepover. He pulled the blanket in his lap to his chest. “Between you and-” he gestured with his head again towards the door. “You guys were pretty perfect together seemed like.” Loki bristled, feeling his brothers eyes on him too. He knew it would come to this. “We had an irreconcilable differing of opinion.” “On what?” “On me.”

Loki straightened, rolling his shoulders back and resting an ankle on his knee for good measure. Casual. The scratch of cheap upholstery made his back tingle. “Well that could mean all manner of things, brother. You are insufferable.”

Loki swallowed, blinking several times. Steve reached out, patting his hand gently, but Loki flapped it away. “Apparently I am...what were her words exactly? Oh, yes. Haughty. Condescending. Unwaveringly arrogant.” He looked pointedly between the men. “I mean, can you believe that?!” Thor and Steve’s eyes met, each waiting for the other to speak first.

“Well, yes” they said in sync.

Loki bristled again, raking a hand through his hair. “Not to the point where it subsumes all my admirable qualities, surely?” he said, beginning to pick at the green of his bottoms. “I mean really. Is it truly arrogance if what I say is true? I cannot help being a god.”

Silence was deafening.

Loki looked to the side, seeing Steve’s face contorted in a theatrical twist. One eyebrow was raised, lips stretched over his teeth in a grimacing caricature. “You do go on about it a lot.” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Indeed, brother.” Thor concurred. He nestled back in the recliner with a satisfied sigh. “I shouldn’t have to walk with these groceries...I am a god. I have no need of a parking permit, I am a god...I can only imagine how it is to be your significant other, especially for so long-” “Hey, Thor – did Loki tell you about ‘that time’ on Asgard?” “Why yes Rogers he did. All of them. And anyone else who’d listen. Especially the part which highlights exactly how impressive it is that he is...” “-a god,” they both finished. Loki stared between them, open mouthed. His furious gaze landed on his brother. The betrayal in his voice was palpable. “How dare you,” he growled. “You’re one to talk, spouting off about your powers and flaunting your lineage at every chance you can grasp. The audacit-” Thor raised a waggling finger in the air, pushing his feet against the chair and sitting upright. “Ah-ah-ah, brother. But I am both self-effacing and charming, isn’t that right Rogers?” he beamed. “He is quite charming.” Steve agreed, reluctantly. “You on the other hand...it comes across as more..” The three of them looked between each other. Loki’s face fell.

“Oh,” he said quietly.

Of all the times your gentle hands had cupped his, your caring words of encouragement that he think more of what he was saying; he had not listened. Not really. The armour of arrogance was a comfort to him. It was secure, unchanging. Unlike everything else. And in truth, he’d thought you’d liked it. Despite your occasional protestations.

Until the end, that was.

A creak from the hallway signalled your imminent emergence from the bathroom.

In all the commotion, none of them had heard the boiler cease its ragged howl. A few seconds later, your head poked around the door. Wetted hair fell around your shoulders, sticking to the curve of your neck. Loki looked up through his lashes, stomach fluttering as your palm slid innocently down the wooden frame. Moisture still clung to your skin.

Loki hoped you weren’t cold. “I’m going to bed, I’ll see you in the morning” you said, looking to Thor and Steve before your eyes met his. He looked away quickly. “Goodnight,” the three of them chimed, some more enthusiastically than others. You stepped out in full view for a moment, adjusting the towel around your body. “Did you use the groove technique?” you smiled, nodding to the fire. “My brother made the same joke already,” Thor said, reclining on the deceptively comfortable chair again with a flourish. “But alas, no.” Loki’s heart skipped as you focused on him. Something swam in your eyes as you twisted the towel by your armpit. Something that wasn’t irritation, or coldness. He saw your covert gaze drop to his neck, lower to his chest, then to the flat of his stomach. He shifted, curling his long legs up on the sofa.

“Join us,” he said, gesturing to an empty armchair in the corner. You shook your head, offering a weak smile. “I’m exhausted, clearly you guys have more stamina than I do.” Loki felt the mighty need to agree rise in his throat. To articulate the validity of your statement, and its infinite reasoning and commend your observations. For the first time, he was aware of its overwhelming crawl upwards like dragon-fire, sanctimonious empty words writhing like live insects in his mouth – desperate to be spat. He forced them down, under the watchful eye of Steve. The words sat in his stomach like a stone.

“Goodnight, Agent.” Loki murmured with a respectful nod. You returned it silently, before closing the door.

A sliver of open curtain cast moonlight on the wall.

Loki stared at it.

Then he stared at it some more. How long had he lain here? He turned, grasping at the vintage midgardian alarm clock on the side. He squinted. Nine-forty. Loki groaned, rolling back against the lumpy mattress. Tonight, unlike the last, sleep evaded him. Although he had only been in the maze of his thoughts for fifteen minutes, it felt like eternity. Why could he not read you? It was always so easy before, he pondered. His eyes tracked along a crack in the ceiling. Before she raised the drawbridge.

He sighed.

If what Rogers and his brother said was in truth, then it meant the unthinkable. That she was right to do what she did. Was he truly so conceited that he had let love which evaded him so long slip through his grasp for the sake of his pride? For what? To feel important for a fleeting moment? A thousand fleeting moments would be more accurate. A chill ran down his spine. Does she think that, in truth, I never cared for her at all? He closed his eyes, attempting to diminish the intrusive thought. In an act of mercy, his mind conjured the memory of you wrapped in only the towel downstairs. Hair wet, droplets kissing down your neck as you played with the side of the cotton.

‘Come here, Agent’ he would growl, spreading his thighs wider on the bed’s edge. He knew how much you loved the thickness of his thighs. At least, you used to. The version of you still in love with him would sashay across the room, bare feet leaving wet imprints on the floorboards. A coy smile playing on your pouted lips.

Would you wait until you had straddled him to release the towel, or in the moment before you did so? Loki pondered this for a moment, before deciding to indulge in both.

He could feel his cock hardening uncomfortably against the crotch of his pyjama pants, the spill of your perfect breasts into his imaginary hands making it throb. ‘Darling,’ he would sigh as he buried his face in your cleavage. His thumbs would graze your delicate nipples, guiding them to his open lips as you ground against his lap. A hand would nudge his tip inside your perfect heat before you edged down...down to meet the root. And then, you would kiss. You always wanted to kiss the first time you were fully joined. Entwined. Twin-gasps would fill the air, giving way to moans of quiet pleasure as Rogers and his brother slept next door.

Or tried to, at least. Loki spat in his hand, before slipping it beneath the waistband of his pyjamas. Cold fingers wrapped around the mass of untended lust that waited. He pumped once, pulling the foreskin back gently and letting his fist nestle against the neat of his pubic hair.

A ragged exhale escaped him.

How long has it been, he wondered briefly, before tightening his grip.

He extended his thumb, pressing harshly against velvet flesh as he swept upwards. The god’s eyes rolled back in the darkness, back arching up into his pleasure. Low pants began to pepper the air around him, each swipe of his hand more frantic than the last.

Too loud.

He bit his lip, eyes screwed shut while visions of you flashed through his mind. He settled on a memory of you in his bedroom in the tower. His hands were tied behind his back as he sat on the edge of the bed you shared, your fingers curling around his abs as they clenched beneath the touch. Your lips fastening around his trembling cock as you made him yours in each stroke of your tongue. Each slurping kiss that lingered as you sucked, his head falling back as he lost himself in you. Always, he thought between staggered breaths. Completely hers.

Loki’s fingers dug into the mattress, the rough methodical slap of his fist against flesh a din to his ears. But gods, it felt so good. He needed this. Needed to allow himself a stolen moment of pleasure where you loved him still.

Climax began to bubble in his deepest centre, swirling behind his eyelids. Loki’s thumb circled the tip with every fuck of his palm, squeezing tighter while droplets of precum made the pyjama pants damp. His teeth were gritted to the ceiling, bared in a grimace. His chin pointed upwards, the pillow folding in on his cheekbones with the force of the brace. His breaths were short. ‘Mmmm’ The god’s eyes shot open.

He paused, wincing as his fist froze tightly halfway down his cock. His ears pricked, concentrating. ‘Mmmm-uh’

Loki’s head fell to the side, facing the wall. The wall on the other side of which, you lay.

He closed his eyes, summoning every magnification of his senses that he could. Your voice. No more than a whisper, seeping through the stone.

‘Loki, yes…’

He’d know those sweet sighs of pleasure anywhere.

A breath he’d been holding rattled free, timed with a tentative tug of his cock.

He could hear everything now. The rustle of bedsheets tangled around your knees, the beat of your heart quickening as you reached your peak with him in your head. The press of your fingers on that spot just about your plump, beautiful clit. Were you imagining the flat of his tongue caressing against your desire? Loki thought you were. Orgasm began to rise alongside some unplaced feeling, his legs tensing; toes curling into the mattress.

She wants me.

In a split-second decision, he whipped the bedsheets from his body and jumped cat-like to the floor. Within two strides, he had opened the door with a creak and slipped into the cramped hallway. Your door loomed before him, adjacent to his own.

What are you doing, he thought; suddenly horrified as the chill set in. He looked down, cock hard and leaking against his pyjama pants.

He began to step back, emitting the loudest groan of a floorboard he had ever heard in his life. Loki grimaced, hushing the accursed building with clawed fingers. But it was too late. He heard the succession of your bare feet meeting the floor, and in a matter of seconds; your door opened. Just a crack. “Loki?” you warily whispered into the darkness. He cleared his throat softly, casting a glance over his shoulder before daring to meet your questioning eyes. That dragon-fire bubbled in his stomach like acid, quippy lines and heavy-handed flirtations that begged to be freed.

How had he never noticed before how much effort it took, not to let them out? I thought you might need a hand, You called for me, so I’ve come to... make you c- I know you still desire me, which is to be expected, Admit it, no one can pleasure you like me, For old times sake- Because, Loki realised, he had never tried. You opened the crack of the door wider, looking to either side of the landing suspiciously. His eyes ran from your bare feet to the hem of a nightdress falling around your thighs. He recognised that nightdress. Your favourite. It had dead leaves on it, which he never understood. But maybe now, in this place, he finally did.

You only wore it when the nights grew colder. And only when he was not there to hold you for warmth.

Which these days, he thought with a pang, is always.

All too late, the god realised he had become distracted from his newfound restraint. It had wound like ivy around his thoughts, vines twisting and flourishing with alarming speed. But there was nothing to be done about it now. “I thought you might want some... company,” he growled suggestively.

His cock pressed ferociously against his hip, covered from view by one thick forearm.

Your eyebrows rose beneath a deadpan stare. “You can’t be serious.” Like an out of body experience, Loki raised the forearm covering his crotch to rest high on the door-frame. The unmistakable scent of your arousal seeped into his nostrils, an interrupted climax lingering in the air.

Moonlight from the cracks in your curtains licked across his chest, his obliques – casting deep shadows in his cheekbones, Loki would wager.

Hair fell around his jaw, tingling the flushed skin. He could feel his manhood pressing eagerly against the cotton, as desperate for your touch as it always had been. The thrill that in mere seconds, he would feel you against him again where you belonged. The heat of your skin flush to his own, the muffled mewls from your lips as you kissed, the insatiable wandering of your hands as you devoured him like an addict’s first fix. You would be so happy. This time, Loki would make sure of that.

He looked down deep into your eyes, smouldering with all his might. “Deadly, darling.” he purred.

Your disbelieving stare fell to his crotch. It widened. “Oh my god, Loki.” you hissed. “Yes...?” he crooned presumptively in response. The rakish smile spreading barely had time to reach his eyes before the door slammed in his face, almost taking Loki’s fingers with it to the other side.

>>Chapter Three: A Long Way Down Tags (contd in comments)

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @holdmytesseract @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @mrs-illyrian-baby @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog @arch-venus25 @nine-leafclover @iamlokisgloriouspurpose

#the lakes #loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x female reader #loki fluff #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki angst #loki series #loki marvel #loki imagine #loki odinson #loki laufesyon x reader #loki gif #loki

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kana-de · 7 months

Note

UR REQS ARE OPEN OH MY FUCK!!

uhm so hahaha so uhm hahaha giggles..

harbinger!reader x harbinger!scara and reader is a higher rank than scara and just scara just lovesss the fact that he can turn his "superior" into a mess <33

i love ur writing btw, explodes

★ summary: harbinger!scaramouche x harbinger!fem!reader. he loves seeing his lovely superior a whining, crying, moaning mess. and all because of him.

☆ cw: nsfw. reader is the 3rd harbinger (sorry columbina). power play. power kink (?). humiliation (use of 'pathetic', 'whore', 'slut'). use of 'good girl'. overstimulation. multiple orgasms (reader). creampie. implied cunnilingus at the end. scara basically fucks you - a superior harbinger - into oblivion. 757 words.

☾ a/n: oh. my. fucking. god. this is absolutely my fav fic prompt so far, i don't know why i never came up with it... ily kia. i absolutely love the harbinger x harbinger au. dissipates into atoms. i dont want this to flop PLEASE.

in the fatui's eyes, in the harbingers' eyes, in the tsaritsa's eyes you were brighella - the owner - the third harbinger. but in scaramouche's eyes you were...

"what a pathetic slut." scaramouche hisses once you cum on his fingers yet again, a broken whine leaving your lips.

this is only your third orgasm, and you're already looking so fucked out - glassy, teary eyes, flushed face, hair messy and sprawled all over the pillow, voice nearly breaking at each small whine and whimper you make when he curls his digits against your sweet spot, purposely overstimulating you.

"n- not- nghh... 's too much..." you cry out, voice almost raspy because of how often you moaned, throat basically sore.

" 'not' what? not a pathetic little whore?" he taunts, tips of his fingers searching for your cervix, reaching deep inside your cunt, enveloped by your clenching walls. "i didn't even get to stuff you full of my cock, and it's already 'too much'? you're getting weaker, [name]..."

you only have the strength to muffle a mewl that escapes your throat as his fingers leave your cunt, your slick all over his digits as he licks his fingers clean, humming at the thought of how delicious you taste - he'll definitely fuck you with his tongue once more this night. just for confirmation.

"look at yourself. a mess, aren't you?" scaramouche coos into your ear, sending shivers down your spine for the nth time, his hands coming to your hips as he proceeds to lower his mouth to your collarbone, sucking on the skin there - you have no energy to scold him for leaving marks on visible places - making small, violet hickeys, which in the morning will be a pretty bordeaux covering your neck all over.

he chuckles in your other ear, exhaling slowly. "the 3rd of 11, but so, so, so... easy." he taunts you with his sultry voice, a tad bit of mockery in it. he could fuck you into oblivion again and again and again if it meant seeing you in this fucked out state each time.

the next thing you feel is the tip of his cock that presses to the entrance of your pussy, and you let out a low moan, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to bring him closer, your unsteady hands coming to hold his shoulders. he thrusts for the first time, setting a rigid and erratic pace as he grunts into the crook of your neck. you mewl and whine at every thrust of his, basically melting into him.

"f-fuck, look at me, [name]." scaramouche breathes out, one of his hands coming to your face to move away your hand that hides away your flushed face and swollen from biting them lips. he grits his teeth, muffling a moan as he realises how fucking good you feel around his cock. "i want to see this pathetic expression on you for a little longer. keep looking up at me, slut."

"s-scara- k-kuni... mmngh- t' much..." you whinge, feeling his hips slamming into yours frantically. you clench around him even more at his words, letting out a sentence that he's unable to understand because of how your voice breaks into moans every time he thrusts into you. your hands subconsciously squeeze his shoulders a little tighter, nails leaving small scratching marks on his skin, the burning sensation making him groan.

"be a good fucking girl and cum on my cock. you can do that, yeah? c'mon..." scaramouche brings the tips of his fingers to your aching clit, rubbing it in circles as he soon feels your cunt clamp more and more on his length, him hitting your sweet spot just under the right angle.

your eyelids shut closed as you feel another orgasm nearing, erratic breaths leaving your mouth as well as sloppy whimpers and moans. "s-scarascarascarascara- f-fuck- nghh, i'm c-cumming.. cumming, hhah-!.."

you cum just when scaramouche releases inside you, his seed painting the walls of your pussy white. he fucks his cum into you through sloppy thrusts, not letting any drop leak out as you've stopped trying to muffle your little cries and mewls, teary eyes struggling to look up at him.

"the fact that i can turn my superior into a whining, crying, moaning mess is what i wake up for every morning." he says, letting out a breathy laugh, pulling out of you, and wiping away the small tears from the corners of your eyes. "now, spread your legs a bit more, i want to taste that pretty cunt of yours again."

#scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche x you #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #scara x reader #scara x you #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x you #kunikuzushi x you #genshin x you #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #kunikuzushi smut

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luvyeni · 1 year

Note

park jisung with a virgin reader pleaseeeeee ily <3

FIRST TIME; PARK JISUNG

pairings: boyfriend!jisung x virgin!reader

Wc. 602

warnings: perv!jisung, corruption kink, nipple sucking, dry humping,

It had to be perv bf jisung, I love perv bf jisung.

—

Jisung was trying to listen to what you were saying, he really was... but he couldn't help that your tits were in directly in his face as you straddled his lap, telling him about the day you had in class.

What was turning jisung on even more was... you didn't even know what you were doing, you had to clue that you were lightly grinding down on his clothed cock.

You were very inexperienced, and jisung didn't want to overwhelmed you with idea of sex—but between your boobs in his face, and the fact he could feel your pussy throbbing through your panties due to your skirt... he was on his last bit of patients.

"sungie, you aren't listening to me." You looked so cute with your lips in a pout, he couldn't help but imagine his cum painting them... he was such a perv.

"Give me a kiss." You were confused, but obeyed anyway, kissing him softly on the lips, his hand grabbing the back of your neck to keep you from pulling away. He smirked when he felt you melting in the kiss.

He was so close to break you.

He pulled away with a sigh, eyes trailing down from your swollen lips right back to your chest.

He couldn't hold it anymore

"Babe, do you trust me?" He raked his fingers through your hair. "Of course I do, why are you asking this?" You questioned.

He fiddled with your buttons on your shirt, unbuttoning one. "W-what are you doing." You grabbed his hand, stopping him.

"I want to make you feel good, we don't have to go all the way, I just want to make you feel good." He unbutton another button, then another.

"can I do that?"

"Please." You breathed, so stuck in the trance that is your boyfriend, that you didn't even noticed he'd already undone all your buttons, pulling your shirt off, leaving you in your white lace bra.

"So fucking pretty." He reached behind, undoing it, your tits spilling out of the bra.

"Oh fuck." He toyed with your nipples, you moaned out at the new found pleasure.

"J-jisung p-please do something." You looked so cute, eyes blown out, whinging, ready to be fucked.

"I don't want overwhelm you baby, this is all new to you." He finally took a hold of one of your mounds, latching his mouth on one.

"O-oh m-my god." You moaned, hand running through his hair as he sucked on your tits like he expected something came out, making sure to show attention to the other.

He pulled away with a groan, biting his lip in pleasure. "Fuck if you keep on grinding on me like this, im gonna cum in my pants." He said.

"M-m'sorry, I-i didn't know." He smirked. "That's what's turning me on baby, you're so fucking unaware, it's cute." The way he was talking made you moan.

He grabbed your waist, stilling your hips, rolling them back and forth, moving them for you.

"Fuuuuck~ just like that, keep your hips just like." He threw his head back, groaning.

"I-it f-feels good" you stuttered.

"Yeah? Feels good?" He toyed with your nipples, replacing his hands with his mouth sucking.

"J-ji s-something feels weird." You felt a knot forming in your stomach.

"S-shit, babe let go it's okay." He kissed both your tits. With his command, you allowed the knot to break, shaking against his body as you came for the first time ever.

"That felt really good." You were heavy breathing, a smile on your face. "Yeah?" He toyed with your nipples once again, sending another wave of pleasure down there.

"Just wait until I fuck you with my cock."

©️LUVYENI

#park jisung smut #park jisung hard hours #kpop x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #kpop smut #nct dream hard hours #nct dream reactions #nct smut #nct headcanons #nct dream hard thoughts

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thedomesticanthropologist · 3 months

Note

What do you think the companions would ask for if Tav owed them a favor?

Oh this is fun! Let's assume it's in camp during their journey. Tav owes a companion a favor! What do they ask for? (This kind of evolved past a favor in a few idk if it counts but I tried)

Assuming no romance, relatively high approvals.

Shadowheart: Very practical, considers your favour repaid when you've performed all of her chores for her. Every day. For a week. She delivers her terms with a sweet smile, and carefully picks over your work to ensure it's up to standard. She may also plop herself down right beside you and watch you work while she lounges. Maybe makes a show of doing her nails or humming.

Wyll: "A favor? You repay me each day just by fighting at my side, friend." Takes a while to convince him you owe him anything, honestly, you'd have to work on it. If you really push it, he tells you you have to create a hero name for yourself and a catchphrase, which must be yelled out in the next battle. The Blade is always at the ready with a heroic word, and you shall be as well! He is chuckling as he suggests it, and if you look horrified, he drops the subject and claps you affectionately across the shoulder. He doesn't hold you to it. ALTERNATE ALTERNATE makes you wash his socks. They're stinky. He grins shyly about it.

Laezel: You have to spar with her. She's allowed to wake you up at any time, or jump you when you least expect it. You must always be ready and on alert. However, she knows this has humor potential, so she spends days sometimes just suddenly moving quickly in your direction only to abort the motion or do something innocuous instead. You jump out of your skin every time, fumbling what you're holding or tripping to try to get into a fighting stance. Her eyes twinkle. It's hilarious. One night she absolutely beats the shit out of you, sorry. Favor repaid.

Gale: Could go one of two ways. One: he demands first pick of the best magical loot, or, undisturbed and no-timelimit access to the next library/book room you encounter. No complaining allowed. Or! He's so excited to have a partner to play lanceboard with. If you don't know how, he teaches you. You must try to beat him as best you can. He absolutely destroys you and makes a big show about it, peacocking around. Then challenges you again. Gives you solid advice on how to do better next time.

Karlach: If she can touch again, she asks for shoulder rubs. Then arm, neck, back, feet, hands. You rub until you cramp up. Then she asks you to brush her hair. She's grinning like a loon and happy as a clam. If she can't touch, she considers the favor repaid when you pull a funny prank on someone else in camp. Whether it fails or not doesn't matter, she just wants to witness it so she can have a good laugh.

Halsin: "There is nothing you could owe me that would take a dent out of the debt I owe you, my friend." Refuses outright that you could ever owe him anything. Won't budge. Absolutely stubbornly will not.

Astarion: comes up with multiple suggestions, if you complete one, claims he was just talking out loud and that wasn't it OR that was just the first part, it's a multi-part favor you see, so really it will be paid back when.... and so on and so forth. Sees how much he can get away with. Alternatively: starts out with a REALLY extravagant ask and has to be whittled down to something you consider fair, whinges that he is doing YOU a favor by being gracious enough to accept the... favor... you just did him.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #halsin #halsin bg3 #karlach #laezel #shadowheart #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #bg3 companions

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baldurs-gape · 4 months

Text

Silence

There was a lot Cazador had done over two hudred years. A lot he had taken away, beaten out of or simply tainted to the point that Astarion no longer took pleasure in something. But the one thing he never could fully extinguish was Astarion's tendency to be vocal about anything and everything, usually in the form of complaining.

The tadpole and the sudden freedom was difficult to trust so Astarion kept to safe habits. He didn't miss the appreciative looks his newfound companions sent his way. As little as he was worth, Astarion knew that his value lay in his looks. Cazador had been kind enough to teach him that, had made sure he was well-built, always looked appealing to as many as possible. The price for failing was high enough that Astarion also put a lot of care into learning how to look his best.

"We're not seriously having onion, cheese and the red swill you call wine again, are we?" Astarion sighed as the group settled around the campfire.

"Don't like it, don't eat it." Lae'zel shrugged and glared at him. "Good luck foraging in the forest in the dark for something better."

Seizing the permission, Astarion sneered back as he stood up. "Fine. I'm sure I can do better." He did. Drained a whole boar and spent half the night on his back, so full that his stomach actually hurt as it stretched around so much blood.

It was the start of something. Insidious and slow in a way Cazador never had the patience for, not when it came to Astarion. The phrase "shut up, Astarion" became a daily motto to the point the others were beginning to chuckle about it. He'd heard it plenty enough before, Cazador often told him to quit his whinging. The other spawn were also prone to ignoring him. But that had been a different situation. Despite living through it for so long, Astarion knew, deep down, that it wasn't right. Cazador was just one man, one tyrant who controlled Astarion like a puppet, while the other spawn were all bitter, scared and trying to survive. To be told to shut up by them was like being stung by a wasp and being surprised about it. With his newfound allies though? Astarion had no such excuses to hide behind.

"All I'm saying is that we could go back to camp for a nice rest," he grumbled.

"Shut up and keep moving." There was a growl to Wyll's voice as he marched on at a relentless pace. It was all very well that he could continue but Astarion was tired, hungry and not in the mood to play pretend being a hero. Alas, outnumbered as he was because the others didn't slow down either, Astarion had to keep walking or risk being left behind. As it was, he didn't dare leave the safety of the group, fear of Cazador finding him was still too high.

The longer he spent at camp, the more chances he had to feed, especially as the others stopped paying him so much attention.

"Freedom suits you," Shadowheart called as he washed his shirt. "Made you softer."

Glancing down, Astarion had to think very quickly to hide his true feelings. "Darling, are you calling me fat?"

It was true though, there was a bit of give to his stomach, no longer flat and the muscles clrealy visible under his skin. Cazador would have called him fat for that, undesirable and worthless. Maybe the rest of the group were less interested in him because he wasn't appealing anymore and Astarion grit his teeth in resolve so hard that he almost missed Shadowheart's reply.

"Oh do be quiet. You know what I mean."

He didn't though. Or rather, he did but wished he didn't. That night Astarion didn't go out to hunt. He went hungry the next day. And the next.

By the time his true nature came to light, Astarion was back to his usual self. It was probably what had saved him. As Cazador used to say, it would have been such a shame to rid the world of such beauty, even if it couldn't keep quiet. Part of Astarion hated that Cazador was right, people really were less likely to murder the beautiful.

In the Underdark Shadowheart had turned to him with a lewd smile. "This place suits you. Perhaps it's part of being a creature of the night. It's always night here."

And it was desolate as fuck, devoid of any living creature. So was the Shadowcursed Lands. Astarion was hungry. So very hungry.

"I just want a small nibble," he sighed. "Not even enough for anyone to notice."

"We all need to be on top form, soldier," Karlach muttered. "And it's not like any of us are feeling satiated by any sense of the word. You're not that special."

No, of course Astarion wasn't special. They were all hungry, tired and scared. It was nothing out of the ordinary compared to the last two hunderd years.

Coated in grotesque slime wasn't Astarion's idea of a pleasant time. He wipes ineffectively at his face and flicked what he could to the ground.

"Ruined my shirt. Ruined my hair."

"And you're ruining what little I have left of good will," Gale spat angrily. "Can't you just be quiet for once. I get it, you're a special little vampire who lived in a castle and now has to slum it with the rest of us. But Mystra have mercy, you're making the rest of us feel even worse."

"At least I'm making you feel something. Better than being a forgotten, burnt out waste of talent." Hurt had Astarion lashing out. He hadn't even been talking to Gale, just muttering to himself about his own misfortune. But Gale made a very good point. If he wasn't having a positive impact on the group then he risked being left behind. The more he saw of the world, the more Astarion knew for sure that he wouldn't last long out there on his own. Cazador's spies were everywhere and it was just a matter of time before he was dragged back and punished. It was better to stay quiet and appease his protectors than risk such a thing.

Lifting the curse meant Halsin joined them in their camp. Even stranger, he offered himself up as a meal for Astarion. Hunger outweighed the worry of cost. Astarion knew what he had to offer and acted accordingly. After only a few sips he licked the wound clean and shut before kneeling back.

"You can take more," Halsin offered with heavy lidded eyes. "Don't go hungry."

"I've taken all I need." The lie rolled off Astarion's lips as he patted his flat stomach. Under his shirt his muscles were outlined once again, exactly as they should be. "You've done me a great favour, I haven't had anything as delicious as you in a long time, if ever. How could I ever repay you?"

Halsin smiled up at him. This was it, this was where Astarion traded his body for survival again. Despite knowing this was the outcome when he accepted Halsin's blood, he still dreaded it.

"I was hoping to hear more about your adventures."

The absurdness of the request had a laugh burst from Astarion before he could cover it with something more airy and appealing. "Darling, if you want bedtime stories then Wyll's your man. My talents involve my mouth but a lot less talking."

Still smiling, Halsin shook his head. "Maybe another night then, when you're more comfortable to share some memories."

Such words lingered on Astarion's mind. He hadn't ever been wanted for conversational company. Usually as long as he had one hole stuffed, him companion(s) didn't want anything coherent out of him. Still, it made him hope which Astarion hated so much. But if Halsin was interested then maybe he could try it. Settling by the fire as everyone ate, Astarion listened, waited for his opportunity.

"That ended my attempts at learning to keep the shape of a rat," Gale finished his story and the whole group laughed. "Tara was mortified and I couldn't get the whiskers to retract for a week!"

"Rats were one of the constants in Cazador's castle, no matter how hard he tried to eradicate them." It was a smooth transition, at least Astarion thought so.

"Urgh, spare us the woe and misery," Karlach groaned. "Can't we have just one night where we don't talk about the shit things in life? Let us have a bit of fun!"

Looking around the fire, Astarion saw various nods and heard murmurs of agreement. He knew when he was beaten and Cazador had taught him well. Averting his eyes, he slouched a little, nonchalant yet deferential. "My apologies, I didn't realise my stories about training rats to do circus tricks would be so depressing." Standing up, he gave the group a hollow smile. "Please, enjoy your evening of careless fun away from reality."

As he walked away he heard mutters of "didn't have to take it so personally" and "what a little bitch". The rest of the words he tuned out, not needing to etch into his brain yet more derogatory comments to harmonise with Cazador's words. Walking past his tent, Astarion made his way away from camp, into the dark wilderness. Plopping down on a mound at the edge of a small clearing, he closed his eyes. This was fine. He had changed to suit Cazador's tastes, he could do it again. Not overnight, he needed to learn exactly what was needed of him.

The fact a bear lumbered up next to him should have been a shock. Instead, Astarion stared at it and wondered what he'd taste like to a bear. However, rather than attack, the bear shifted and Halsin stood there.

"Apologies if I startled you, it's easier to find people in the dark as a bear."

"Nothing to apologise for, I should have been paying more attention. Did you need something."

Settling at the base of the mound, Halsin gazed up at the stars. "I was intrigued by rats and circus tricks."

A bitter laugh trickled out of Astarion. "Darling, I did no such thing." Leaning forward, he teased as if imparting some great secret. "Karlach was right, I was going to say how rats all tasted different based on what they'd last eaten. And how Gale likely still tasted just as vile in rat form as in human form. That orb of his certainly sours his appeal."

He didn't expect Halsin to laugh brightly. "I would have loved to have seen his face at hearing that. Do you think Karlach would taste like a fiery pepper?"

Something like delight briefly flitted over Astarion's face as Halsin so easily picked up the thread.

"Well, you're earthy and rich. I think she would certainly have a kick but more like a prank candy. Shadowheart would be a fine aged brandy that has started to turn so it just ever so slightly bitter."

"Lae'zel would taste like pickles!" Halsin blurted out with a wide smile. "And Wyll would be water." It had Astarion actually grinning even as Halsin continued, "My apologies, I do not have the poetic skills you harbour. Leather shoes or wooden clogs are about as creative as I can get with descriptors."

"And yet you're all the more compelling for your upfront honesty. Like a cool breeze on a hot summer night, refreshing yet also mysterious."

The way Halsin flushed was a delight. Without thinking too much, Astarion gave up his perch in favour of scooching down to sit next to Halsin. Their shoulders bumped together and Astarion stayed quiet. He could learn what Halsin wanted him to be. But something told him that all Halsin wanted him to be was himself. A terrifying prospect yet Astarion found himself looking forward to finding out who he really was.

#bloodbear #halstarion #astarion/halsin #astarion x halsin #astarion #bg3 astarion #halsin #bg3 halsin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

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asurix · 3 months

Note

omg omg imagine inumaki together using his cursed speech on his girlfriend for the first time in bed like 🤤🤤

could you please write something about this as there is BARELY anything on my man toge on tumblr

AHHHHHHHHHHH omg can i say that i appreciate you having the exact same thoughts with me?? like omg yess YES I WILL THIS WOULD BE SO ADHJDAHDJADH OMG we all have to agree toge is a pussy eater idgf what you say, that pretty tounge aint there just for his cursed technique. HASBHDJSFHIAHDN

Genre: NSFW/SMUT, boyfriend!toge inumaki,toge inumaki x fem!reader, dom!toge inumaki, sub!fem!reader.

content warning: pussy eating,vaginal sex,whimpering,praising(toge ur praising toge), Virgin?,(just moaning toge's name it turns him on a lot), and swearing during sex, fem!reader,Dom!toge.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪TOGE INUMAKI

You and Inumaki were lovers, both truly loving eachother, understanding,confident about everything when it came to you're relationship, you were inseprable.

One day you and Inumaki were signed to kill a special grade 3, as usual you didn't bother do anything because you knew you're boyfriend was capble of doing it himself, you were really fascinated by Inumaki's cursed speech, it might have ruined his ability to speak but you loved him still, you found his salmon and tuna mayo adorable and you thought it was a cute trait from Inumaki, you neither saw him as a ''freaky'' person in bed noor a person who would be dominant, not that you have ever had sex with Inumaki not even with anybody, you were a complete Virgin. As he finished exorcising the cursed spririt you praised you're boyfriend saying he did such a good job, he couldn't help but get a boner by your praising, you didn't relize until you looked down to glance at his crotch,

''salmon...'' he mumbled embarassed that you're praising gave him a erection, you giggled and rubbed on his crotch, he couldn't help but moan, ''when we get home Toge'' you smiled at him, he couldn't help but mumble something irritated. When you both reached home Inumaki grabbed you and threw you on the bed just as you both stepped in you're dorm, he spread you're legs and pulled you're pants away, he kissed you're folds, licking it slowly just to tease you, you jolted and whinced

''n-ngh~ t-toge fuckkkk'' you whined out, you're lover enjoying you're whining and pleasure, he teased you're clit, sucking on it with perfect pressure, he pushed his tounge deep into you're cunt, eating you out, you moaned at the pleasure of you're lover fucking you with his raw tounge, you loved it. You finally came on his tounge, shaking of the overstimulation rushing thru you're body, Toge lifted his head up, his nose and jaw full of you're nectar, you giggled at the sight, he went up to you're face to kiss you, you wiped the cum off his face and licked it off you're hand, ''m-more toge-'' you whined for inumaki's touch, ''salmon salmon!''

(no problem!) he gave you a adorable thumbs up before, lowering his head to your clit again sucking on it, ''f-fuck inuuu!'' you moaned out your legs shivering at his perfect cute tounge pressing on your swollen clit, ''more, oh g-god ah~'' you choked on your whines, you came once again on his tounge, Toge not letting one drop of juice slip out of your cunt. he got up and lifted your body a bit so that he could line his already hard cock, he placed it on your clit teasing you, ''inu...hurry...just fuck me!'' you whinged impatient ''tuna'' (wait) he responded, his breathing getting heavier, ''tuna mayo?'' (eager much?) he smiled at you, ''inu! stop teasing me and jus-'' you got cut off by Inumaki shoving his cock inside you hitting your G-spot immidatley, you yelped at the sudden move, the pleasure taking over the pain, ''ah~ Inuuu harder please!!'' you cried out, Inumaki continued assaulting your G-spot making you jolt everytime, after a few minutes of pure torture/pleasure he pushed inside your cervix making you feel beyond pleasure itself,

''F-FUCKKK'' you groaned, Inumaki groaned after you, he finally after a few more thrusting, spilled his hot seed inside you, feeling his memeber twitching inside you, he flopped on top of you, cockwarming you, ''i-inu pull out'' you whimpered, the white hair boy didnt move a muscle neither said anything, before you could say anything else, he woke up, you felt his cock get hard inside you, before you could protest he started thrusting inside you again, ''i-inu?!'' you exhaled, confused on why he was still going at it, you couldnt say you didn't love the feeling but? ''salmon..'' he groaned out, you started speaking and annoy him a bit , he wasn't able to focus on fucking you anymore,

Inumaki had enough and said something you didn't think he would actually ever do, him refusing to use it on you because he wanted to make you feel good and prioritize your pleasure over his own, but today was different he finally did it, he used his Cursed speech on you. ''Dont move'' Inumaki spoke, using his cursed speech on you, you couldn't move or speak you were completely paralysed underneath him, you made small noises not able to moan or groan at his thrusting, inumaki held one of your breast for leverage, you felt anger and pleasure rush thru you at the same time, after he finally finished and came inside you, you gave inumaki a slap, he stared at you for a second confused and irritated, ''what the hell Toge?''

you furrowed your brows at him, ''tuna?'' (what?) he tilted hes head furrowing his brow as well, ''you told me you prioritized my pleasure? you did the complete oppisite! you used your Cursed speech on me instead of letting us both enjoy? i didn't enjoy anything because i was paralysed!?'' you said annoyed, Inumaki got of you and reached for a bottle of cough medicene, as he was about to grab one and drink it, you grabbed it from his hand. ''really inumaki?'' you crossed your arms. ''tuna??'' (what??) ''i just said what! not even a sorry?'' you made a pouted a bit wanting pity from your boyfriend. ''salmon...'' (sorry...), you smiled kissing his forehead, ''i guess its okay'' you smiled at him again, he threw himself ontop of you spooning you and showing his love for you, you both ended up snuggling.

#fanfic #toge inumaki smut #toge inumaki #jjk men #jjk boys #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #toge x reader #inumaki x reader #fem!reader #dom!toge #smut #౨ৎ — archive #fypシ

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momo-t-daye · 4 months

Text

“Hey, Sirius,” said James Potter, “Why has Snape got your scarf?" “The little asshole was whinging about being cold,” Sirius shrugged, unconcerned by the chilly evening air. “I thought he might gag himself but no luck yet.” “Huh,” said James.

“I still think it’s just a marketing ploy,” the little asshole swathed in woolen scarves said thoughtfully. “Everyone knows he doesn’t sell firewhiskey to students and his butterbeer is near rancid, but once you’ve hiked all the way up here to check out the goat it’s almost a waste of time to not buy something.” “A giant goat is quite the statement given his, ah, past legal entanglements,” Narcissa said with the sort of obvious delicacy that teetered dangerously close to turning suggestive. “It really must be seen to be believed and the last few have hardly lasted any time at all.” “It looks so flammable,” Lily Evans gushed, bubbling with malicious anticipation. The best thing about the magical world, Lily maintained, was the sheer number of holiday traditions that eventually included lighting something on fire. Her mother’s nerves had never been up for a proper Bonfire Night and Cokeworth’s Catholics weren’t the type to celebrate it either.

“Hey, Sirius,” said James Potter, “Why has Snape got MY scarf?" “Because Evans said it was cold and you gave her your scarf to be gallant and she then handed your scarf over to him” Sirius replied, without any worries over his best friend’s apparent memory issues. “Right,” said James.

“He’s bound to have put up some anti-arson charms on this one after the fiasco with Dumbledore’s pet phoenix last year and inexplicable triple lightning strikes the year before,” Severus scoffed. “If it’s properly phoenix-proofed— and I doubt the rest of Hogsmeade would allow him to put another goat up that wasn’t properly phoenix-proofed— we’d need a miracle to burn it down without being caught.” “We’ve got the blessings of tradition with us, Sev,” Lily replied. “Can’t you see? The goat must burn again!”

“Hey, Sirius,” said James Potter, “Why has Snape got Remus’ scarf?" “Because I was foolish enough to take my scarf off inside and Snape picked it up and put it and just looked at me when I asked for my scarf back,” Remus interjected, slightly bitter at his ignoble defeat. “Gosh,” said James.

“Twice is hardly sufficient grounds to claim a tradition,” Narcissa opined. “Three is a far more magically significant number.” “So you’re saying it’s up to us to ensure the sacred fires once more hold back the darkness!” Lily said, full of pyromaniacal resolution. “I say it’ll take planning and proper intelligence gathering, neither of which I’m inclined to do while my mouth still tastes like something died in the Hog’s Head butterbeer barrels,” Severus sighed. “Let’s stop at the Three Broomsticks, Potter will buy us all a round of the special seasonal cinnamon spiced butterbeer, and we’ll work on preparations back at school.”

“Hey,” said James Potter. “Why hasn’t Snape got—” “Unlike you all, I know better than to leave my clothes and stuff unattended in Snape’s vicinity,” Peter interrupted, smugly snug and cozy. “Oh,” said James. It really was quite cold.

_______

For an assortment @snapecelebration's Snoliday 2023 prompts

#Severus Snape #Snolidays2023 #Snapecelebration #self-indulgent AU #Lily Evans #Narcissa Black #James Potter #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Peter Pettigrew #Snolidays #my art #ficlet

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skinbeneaththeskull · 8 months

Note

90s!tommy catching you touching yourself + maybe with a daddy kink if you’re comfortable with that?

i fucking have the fattest crush on 90s Tommy... so yes ofc i will write this 🧎‍♀️

being home alone, you had some time to yourself, using your time wisely. you were masturbating by yourself for the first time in a while, since Tommy was always there to fuck you dumb. you brought a hand down to your soaked panties, running two fingers through your folds and started rubbing your clit in tight circles, throwing your head back and moaning.

of course you pretended Tommy was the one touching you, moaning his name loudly, voice hitching with every move. you brought your fingers down to your hole, shoving them inside of you carelessly. it was harder to reach out an orgasm because they weren't as big as Tommy's, but you could still find a way.

you started going faster, wet noises filling the air, only to be accompanied with one loud moan of Tommy's name and several other softer moans. the bedroom door slammed open, the look on the others face startled by the loud screech.

"shit! babe, you okay?? what happen-"

it was Tommy. why was he home so early? you were happy, but he just stared at you like a robot or something. you were caught off guard, a little embarrassed now, "i- hi, baby- uh," you couldn't get much out, covering yourself up with a blanket.

he just stood there, mouth hide open, hands on his hips.

"now, why the fuck are you covering yourself? hiding from me? seriously?"

Tommy scoffed, him getting closer, ripping the blankets off of you, him at the bottom of the bed.

"need me to help?"

he asked, head tipped to the side. you just nodded softly, looking the drummer up and down.

he brought his fingers up to your mouth, signaling you to suck, and of course you did. he took them out when they were covered in saliva, him immediately entering them inside of you, curling his fingers as he watched your face contort.

"feel good?"

"m-mhm.. thank you,"

"good. 'cus this is all you're getting from me, sweetheart, so you better cum."

you stared down at Tommy, giving a pout, whining as you tried to fuck yourself on his fingers. you wanted more, needing Tommy so bad.

"p-please, but-"

"no."

"but i've been waiting for you all-"

"no buts. you were okay doing this by yourself earlier, weren't you princess?"

you gulped, giving a slight whine as Tommy sped up, ramming his fingers into you harder as if it were his dick. you sighed and just let Tommy finger fuck you. you were happy he was giving you atleast a little something.

you squirmed around, him smirking to himself, "daddy makin' my baby feel good? yeah? say it then, slut." he growled, him hitting your g spot easily, making you get more vocal. "ffuck! y-yes, feels so good, sir-"

Tommy slapped your thigh, and gave you a look. "sir?" he questioned, "that ain't my name, now is it now?" he huffed. "d-daddy! im- im sorry, please-" you were just whing for him to fuck you, needing him so bad it hurt. "oh are you, though?" "yes!! yes-" Tommy shrugged as he sat up, pulling his fingers out of you, them soaking wet with your slick.

you were afraid once he pulled out, soon seeing his pull himself out made you relieved. he lined up against your hole and pushed in the tip immediately brushing against your g spot. you closed your legs before Tommy ripped them apart to spread them open, him fucking you rough and fast.

"Tom- daddy, i- im gonna cum!"

"be my guest, princess."

he fucked you through your orgasm, him grunting once you came all over his dick. you were screaming almost as loud as you were when he wasn't home, repeating the name over and over again.

it was Tommy's time to cum, him emptying himself inside of your cunt, filling you up before he fucked it into you, your body going limp.

he pulled out, his seed deep inside of you, running out of your pussy and onto your thighs and sheets.

"thank you- thank you, thank you.."

Tommy smiled before placing a warm kiss on your cheek, caressing your hair as he plopped down next to you as you two cuddled off to sleep.

#motley crue #tommy lee #tommy x reader #tommy lee x reader #tommy smut #tommy lee smut

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rreskk · 2 months

Text

NEW MEDIA

A late valentines gift for my girlfriend (I love you ;D). Also inspired by @miranita's latest trikey art from her twitter!! Check her out, talented as Hell! :)))

Summary: The boys decided to try and record their private time together. TW: Smut Pairings: Michael De Santa/ Trevor Philips Word count: 1638

“Are you recording?”

Michael grunted when two hands praised his hardened cock. The other man – preoccupied with lust – sprawled out below him, looking directly into the camera, kneeling on bed with sweat drizzling down his sideburns and scrawny skin.

“Yeah.” Michael whispered back, zooming in with his fingers on the screen. Trevor took this as a signal and started to stroke his boyfriend’s beasty cock that he knows all too well.

The camera flash was on as the full sight was in motion. It captured the way his cock was being warmed and licked around by that nasty tongue of his boyfriend – experiencing hardcore desperation before the recording even started – that he paced around the tip like a desperate dog, panting and panting and panting and whinging.

“You like that, Trev?” Michael took notice, “You love my cock, don’t you, baby?”

Trevor would’ve replied but he was too infatuated by the cock sitting down his hungry throat. He sucked and ignored how much he needed to gag at the thickness of Mikey’s size. It was his favourite part about it, the way it could easily rip him apart in the most dirtiest manner, wanting to feel it bruise him from the inside.

And it excited him more when feeling the flash startle upon his flustered face. Trevor glanced up and made low noises, eyes staring into the lenses, aroused by the idea of being watched; whoever would watch this, probably perverts and whatnot freaks. But he know someone would.

“Oh, yeah…” The voice murmured from the background as Trevor grew more active, his head rocking up and down. Michael grasped onto the collar of his boyfriend’s grey vest, his hand becoming pulsed and deeply veiny from the rough lighting of Trevor’s bedroom. The fingers clenched hard. His knuckles turned white and pressed against Trevor’s chest harshly, encouraging the man to abuse himself on the cock in his mouth.

“Argh – “ Mikey heard him moan.

Before he could have too much fun, he pulled out of Trevor’s mouth and ignored the pathetic cries of his name. The camera captured the saliva on his cock that drooled from the tip to his dark pubes, causing this overstimulation where Michael knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He grunted, moving his boyfriend onto his back dominatingly, removing the vest in the process. By removing, he snatched it instead; with distress and want.

“Fuck me, Mikey.” Trevor whined as his clothes were vanished aggressively. The fabric ripped from his chest and so exposed his complete nakedness, at mercy of Michael who recorded every step so the potential viewers could watch this tough criminal become submissive as a whore.

“Wait for it,” Michael ordered, “Stay on your back. Spread your legs.”

Trevor groaned and arched his spine while positioning his backside to lean upwards, his legs squatted and inviting. His face was snarled but his eyes glistened with mischief and humour. That jester-like man caressed his displayed stomach and waited for further instructions or signals.

Then the camera flash blinded him again and he knew it was coming. Trevor breathed heavily and loudly, small sighs departing from his scarred lips, his whorish mouth feeling empty without Michael’s cock shutting him up. He loved being fucked to the point of numbness. It brought him back fond memories from the younger days – thinking about younger Michael – just how simple yet intense things were. There was a shared spark, and they were trying to bring it back.

“That’s right…” Mikey held the camera and lined himself up. The flash startled his erection which twitched and sat outside Trevor’s anus, the tip rubbing across just to make him squirm.

“Fuck, sugar… C’mon. I’m so ready for you. You want me so bad.” Returned Trevor who tried to grind at every passing opportunity. However, when he tried to insert pleasure, a sharp moan escaped his throat suddenly when Michael slapped his ass, spanking out of discipline for acting up too soon. Like a dog, he was treated… Like a damn dog.

“Stop acting like a brat or you won’t get it.”

“Ohhh…” Trevor sucked in his lips and turned, shoving his face into the duvet sheets to avoid having his pleasure taken from him. All he wanted was a good fuck from Michael. He craved it for too long.

“Good, good,” Michael whispered, pushing in, pushing out; getting comfortable and easy with the sensation, small mewls exiting his throat, “Oh… Fuck, shit. Fuckin’ A…”

It would piece together like a puzzle. As soon as he thrusted into Trevor, they both grunted at the cause. His massive cock forced its way into Trevor’s tight anus but he loved the challenge and pain. He grabbed onto the duvet and cried, even when the fabric suffocated his noises. The camera would stare as he reacted so violently pleased with the physical beating.

Mikey chewed his tongue and grabbed onto Trevor’s hips with one hand, the other zooming the camera close to the younger man’s face. He enjoyed humiliating his fuck-buddy since everyone sees him so intimidating and dangerous. Michael wondered their reactions to seeing Trevor acting like a wrecked puppy. He wondered how good it would feel to degrade Trevor into craving his cock with every second of his life, needing to see his face drenched with tears and cum, voice breaking with begs and worships.

“Yes, yes, yes! I know you have it in you, sugar – fucking fuck me! Ruin me!” Trevor’s voice echoed through his trailer while Michael slammed his palm against his extroverted mouth, silencing him from disturbing the neighbours since it was the early hours of the morning. Trevor’s brows raised at the swift loss of words but soon rolled his eyes back, continuing to moan into his boyfriends hands.

“Shut the fuck up,” Michael hissed and thrusted harder, “Not another damn word. You’re gonna take it, Trev. You’re gonna fucking take it.”

He could then feel that brattish mouth twitch into a smirk, a slimy tongue wickedly licking against his rough palm while his body completely dominated the other by pressing Trevor into the mattress as the cock proceeded further and beyond. The camera changed and focussed on Mikey’s cock eating at his sore anus, pre-cum aiding it’s entrance and exit, the tip reddening by minute.

“Fuck… Mikey…” Trevor’s untouched boner stood straight with a heavy load waiting to burst. It shook helplessly. He tried to comfort himself but Michael slapped his hands away before slapping his cock, recording the whole abuse. The torture gave Trevor a second reason to cry, his face scrunched with agony.

“Don’t.” Was all Michael said.

The duvets creased up more when the pace between them increased horrifically. Trevor’s body mounted up and down, his back torn between sweat and the bedsheets, penis struggling to contain any further fucking like the chump he was. It was swollen and he breathlessly reached for Michael’s arms which held the camera.

“You want them to see?” Mikey teased and zoomed into the mans distressed face.

Trevor growled as cum drooled from his tip. Any more words from his boyfriend’s mouth, and he’ll cum. He knows it.

“Ohhh, what’s this…” His hips shuddered when the camera flashed onto his soon to be cum-painted stomach. Trevor winced when Michael handled his tired cock, squeezing it relentlessly. This released more semen that it all came out in that second. His throat went numb and he moaned pathetically, only to be overpowered by Michael who seemed amused by the easiness of his orgasm, “You can’t help yourself, Trev. Look at you… A fucking mess.”

“Shit, fuck… Sugar…”

“You’re an easy little fuck-toy, baby. All you need is a fucking minute and you’ll cum right away.”

“Mngh – “ Trevor grunted as he was being fucked still.

“Now, now…” Whispered Michael before tossing his boyfriend onto his stomach, them fine shoulder blades tensing and clenching when Trevor had more access to the duvet for support. He gripped onto them, being penetrated harder due to the better position. Mikey caressed the defined muscles on the back in front of them, then leaned forward, placing the camera in front of Trevor with a pillow supporting it.

He now had both hands free, and they directly occupied the neck.

Trevor gasped and stared into the camera as it recorded the blurred background of Michael thrusting with his hands covering that “cut here” tattoo. It felt so raw and deep that Trevor couldn’t help but cum again. It dampened the sheets, his eyes oozing salty tears.

“I love you, I fuckin’ came– “ He struggled to speak.

“Oh yeah?” Michael’s voice appeared faint from the back. He liked showing off his mans beauty when being toyed around, “You came again, baby?”

“Mikey, I love you. Fuck…”

“I know you do.”

Trevor moaned and groaned, “Fuckin’ love you!”

“Keep it together, Trev. Keep it…” Michael winced when he approached that feeling, “Shit…”

Trevor noticed how sloppy the cock was and it was hardened to stone when it bullied his anus repeatedly. It made him excited and he stared into the camera with a tearful smirk, ignoring the hands around his neck, waiting for the moment where his older boyfriend would cum.

“Fuckin’ A…” Mikey breathed shakingly and thrusted one more time before gasping out of pleasure. He buried inside Trevor, leaning forward, his chest grinding his back, leaving a whole load inside the man underneath.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, taking in the anticipation. Trevor had left a puddle of sweat and drool onto the sheets as Michael reached for the camera, showing the future audience one last peek of the anus that was bricked with white cum. His breathing was heavy and he exhaled, stopping the recording, leaving behind a filthy video of their nastiness, haunting the hard-drive into uploading days later.

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megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms · 6 months

Text

Burst of Color

Based on this request: Oh! Could we get a Mycroft Soulmate AU (fem!reader) but like Enemies-to-Lovers style? Soulmate Trope of first touch, world burst into color kind of thing?

Here you are! I apologize for the wait! *Familiar characters are NEVER mine!*

Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)

Warnings: Soulmate AU, Enemies-to-Lovers, Trapped Together, Angsty, slight fluff?

Pairings/Characters: Mycroft Holmes x fem!reader, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson.

Mycroft Holmes was cynical about quite a bit in life, but none so much as the idea of soulmates. The fact that one solitary touch could bind you to someone forever was utterly ridiculous. The idea of being so…enamored with someone simply because fate decided to put two people together was merely another waste of time by Mycroft's thinking. And what if that one person happens to be someone you cannot stand? Such as Mycroft and you.

It wasn't that Mycroft hated you, exactly. He wouldn't waste time on such a thing. But the two of you often got on like oil and water. Two clashing personalities. You were merely another goldfish in a large school of them and Mycroft knew for a fact that you found him quite a "pompous arse". Those had been your exact words to him. If debating with you didn't thrill him so much, Mycroft would never interact with you at all. At least that's what he told himself until the day Sherlock requested his help with a case. And yours.

"Why did I agree to this again?" you asked when Sherlock escorted both you and Mycroft to the crime scene. Or what he told you was a crime scene. "You agreed due to your insatiable curiosity, Y/N," Sherlock replied to your grumbled question. You rolled your eyes as Mycroft let you enter the room after Sherlock. "And because you didn't tell me your brother would be here," you muttered to Sherlock when you caught up to him. Sherlock didn't reply, instead choosing to head into another small room.

Just outside the door, Sherlock stopped and gestured for you and Mycroft to enter first. "Sherlock, what is this?" Mycroft asked, testily. The older Holmes' answer came in the form of the door closing and locking behind you. You raced forward and tried the door. "Sherlock? Open the door!" you growled out. "I don't believe I will," came Sherlock's annoyingly smooth voice from the other side. You turned and gestured to Mycroft as if to say, "Will you do something about this?"

"I'm afraid there is no reasoning with Sherlock once he's set his mind to something." You groaned a bit and mumbled something under your breath. Mycroft took notice of your body language. Contrary to how you were speaking, you weren't angry. Mycroft could tell. In fact, you seemed almost…nervous.

"Any idea as to why your brother locked us in here?" you asked after a moment. Mycroft paused to think, only for another voice to float through the door. "We're tired of the two of you whingeing about one another! So you'll be locked until you can speak to each other without fighting or complaining."

"Quite a brilliant idea from Watson, truly," Sherlock added to Watson's order. You took a deep breath and looked ready to ram the door down if necessary. "No need to be dramatic, Y/N," Mycroft said smoothly as he adjusted this tie. You glared at him but opted to stay quiet this time. Instead, you took to pacing the room as your mind tried to work out a way to escape your current prison with the elder Holmes brother. Mycroft watched your grey form walk back and forth across the floor, your brows furrowed in concentration. It was actually quite adorable.

"Do believe your incessant pacing will free us?" he asked, earning another glare from you. You stopped in front of him with your hands on your hips. "I don't see you doing anything to help," you retorted. Mycroft merely scoffed. "Sherlock and Doctor Watson will eventually grow tired of their game and will open the door. All we need to do is bide our time."

For some reason, Mycroft's words seemed to anger you further. "Can you stop being so damn calm and calculated for once?! Show a little emotion, Mycroft. Your own brother is playing games with you. You can't tell me that doesn't annoy you at least a little." Mycroft let out a little laugh.

"My dear, I am always annoyed with Sherlock in one way or another. You simply grow used to his antics and learn that it is best to let some things lie." You shook your head and turned to begin pacing yet again. "I just don't understand you Holmes men. I mean, really how-" Your sentence was cut short by you tripping over your own two feet. As if on instinct, Mycroft's arm shot out so he could grab you before your face could hit the floor. The moment his hand made contact, however, he nearly let you fall anyway.

Where the world had been varying shades of grey before, it was now filled with colors so brilliant and vibrant, Mycroft almost needed to close his eyes against them. After a split second, he glanced down at you to find your eyes screwed shut like you were still anticipating your body landing on the floor.

"Open your eyes," Mycroft ordered softly. You did and gasped when, Mycroft assumed, you saw your world was now in color too. Mycroft helped you to you to stand up straight. You let your eyes wander the room for a moment before they landed on Mycroft yet again. The two of you stared at one another for what felt like hours, just taking everything in.

"This is…quite unexpected," Mycroft finally managed to say. You laughed softly. "That's a understatement. Of all the people, I never would have guessed you would be my soulmate. After all, I'm simply a goldfish, right?" Mycroft sighed, wishing he had cigarette right then and there. "My dear Y/N…" You shook your head and stepped further away from him. "No. You hate me. I hate you. That dynamic works for us. It always has. This-This," you cut off with a sigh as tears formed in your eyes. "It's wrong," you managed to say after a moment.

"And yet, it seems, it is true. You and I are soulmates," Mycroft finished your thought. You rolled your eyes. "You don't do attachment or sentiment, Mycroft. I crave it." You moved to try the door again. You needed to get out of there before you really did begin crying in front of Mycroft.

"Y/N, have you ever taken a moment to consider that, perhaps, I have hidden the depths of my own emotions to shield myself from those around me that may hurt me? Contrary to your beliefs, I do in fact feel very deeply and while we do not often get along, I do not hate you. Knowing what I now do, I imagine it might well be impossible for me to do so."

"But could you love me? Even platonically? I mean, really love me despite all my flaws?" you questioned intently. When Mycroft didn't answer, you nodded to yourself before approaching the door again. "Think about it, Mycroft. Take time and really think about what your heart is capable of when it comes to me. I'll do the same then we'll speak again."

Mycroft watched as you knocked on the door again. "Sherlock. Please," you pleaded just loudly enough for the younger Holmes to hear. "I can." You froze at Mycroft's soft words, "I can love you. I am not an easy man to get along with, let alone to love, but you make me feel things I did not think possible. I fooled myself into believing that I didn’t want or need a soulmate. But I confess my life would be rather dull and lifeless without you in it."

For a moment, you stayed silent. Then, a ghost of a smile appeared on your lips. "Thank you, Mycroft. I-I suppose there are worse people I could have as my soulmate. Sherlock comes to mind." Mycroft tried not to smile. Really he did, but he couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped his lips.

(a/n: I hope you like it! I'm a sucker for a Soulmate AU with as many tropes shoved in that makes sense as possible.)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @supernatural4life2022

Fandom Tags are OPEN!

Mycroft Holmes Tags: @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek

#bbc sherlock #soulmate au #mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft x reader #enemies to lovers

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nahoney22 · 1 year

Text

Short in Statute, Big in Heart

All Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

Sometimes your height gets you a little upset, but your boyfriend will do anything to make you feel on top of the world.

Warnings: mentions of insecure reader because of height, mainly fluff, established relationships, gender neutral reader, short reader (you’re all beautiful), minor injury, over protective boys, kisses and cuddles. Not proofread.

Authors note: hope yous don’t mind that I merged the requests, just saves me from doing two separate things of the same prompt ❤️ enjoy anon and @carodealmeida and sorry for the wait! Also, not my best work. Got a little lost along the way.

Echo

Echo didn’t care about your height at all. But, once he sees that it starts to bother you, he has to wonder why.

“Something the matter my love?” He asks you one afternoon once you’re both alone, nestled up in your shared bunk with your head on his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” You ask, resting your chin on his chest to look towards him.

“Can’t help but notice you’ve been feeling a little down about your height.”

You blink at him and subtly frown. “Was that a pun?”

Echo’s etches with confusion but then chuckles at the realisation of what he said. “Not at all intentional. But still, is it?”

You sigh and flop onto your back with a heavy breath. “Kind of. I feel like I get in the way sometimes.”

“I can assure you that isn’t the case.” He explains softly, draping his arm over your stomach to offer some comfort.

“Echo, a few nights ago you bumped into me and said ‘sorry, I didn’t see you there’.”

His face contorts, a wave of guilt flooding through him. “I’m sorry cyare. I didn’t mean it, I just wasn’t expecting you to be there.” He doesn’t know if he’s making it better or worse but your silence didn’t exactly answer his thoughts either.

So instead, he scoops you back to him and kisses your forehead over and over. “I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?”

You roll your eyes but a smile does flit on your lips. “If you keep kissing my face, maybe I’ll forgive you.” You say teasingly, a wave of relief releasing from Echo’s shoulders as he does what exactly you want, peppering your face in small apologies.

Hunter

Hunter loves you unconditionally. He loves your smile, eyes and heart and has to admit he finds you very cute wether it be down to your size or not. However, your height has both its advantages and disadvantages that had Hunter a worried mess.

So often you would put yourself first to cram yourself into any small gap for the team and each time makes Hunter almost throw up. He would pace back and forth, constantly connected to you via comm and whinges to himself for letting you do something dangerous even though you are yet to have an incident.

“Something on your mind?” You ask him after a successful mission, one that had you sneaking through vents to allow access for the team.

“Nah,” he says dismissively, giving you a smile but you can tell it’s completely forced.

“Hunter.” You look up at him, hands on your hips that showed that you demanded a straight answer.

He sighs before he sits down and wrings his hands together. “I worry about you on missions.”

“Oh not this again, honey.” You shake your head with a sigh.

“I know, I know. But I just can’t help but worry that something will happen to you and I’ll have no access to getting you.” He rubs the back of his head, hoping you’d see his point.

“I get that Hunter, I do. But who else was going to get to that control panel? Tech had no way to hack in and you think Wrecker was gonna weasel his way through the vents? I don’t think so, sweetie.” You stand in front of him, cupping his cheek before planting a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll be fine. Trust me?”

He kisses you back gently, somewhat reassured by your words. “Always. But I’m still going to worry. As a leader and as your boyfriend.”

Wrecker

When you told Wrecker you liked him he could not control himself when he scooped you up into his arms and planted a sweet kiss to your lips. But then it became a problem. Not because you didn’t want to not kiss him because you did, a lot, it was because the height difference was becoming a problem.

If it’s not him picking you up to kiss you, it’s him crouching down to kiss you. You could never just kiss him without asking unless he was sat down.

Similar to Echo, you were both laying in your shared bunk when Wrecker noticed your glum expression. “Ya okay there?” He asks softly, his large hand coming across to cup your cheek softly and turn your head to face him.

“Does… does my height bother you?” You ask him simply and non surprisingly, he shook his head.

“ ‘Course not!” He exclaims, “is it a problem for you?”

You fiddle with your thumbs and shrug a little. “Sometimes.”

“What makes ya say that?” He frowns.

“Wrecker, you can only kiss me by bending down…. Or you picking me up.” You explain softly, hoping you didn’t offend him.

He nods slowly, releasing quickly why that could be an issue but never one he personally had an issue with because the result still ends up in getting a kiss from you. “I wish I could make myself shorter, but I can’t baby.”

You smile softly, “I know, don’t worry.”

Then, an idea pops into his head. “You could kiss me now.”

You look over at him and sure as anything, your head was level with his without either of you moving. It was perfect. You’re quick to close the gap, savouring the feeling of his lips on yours. “That’s better.”

Tech

Tech didn’t mind your height, neither seeing it a problem or something to take huge note. However, the height difference was quite obvious to him as your wrap your arms around his body, hugging him close where he can barely wrap his arms around you without it crushing your head.

But when you voice you get a little down about your height, he is perplexed to why. “You being shorter than others is not a bad thing. You are perfectly healthy and so it should not be something to upset you.”

“Yeah, I know,” you roll your eyes at your boyfriend but grateful for his words, “I just wish I was a little taller.”

“I believe on some planets people undergo leg-lengthening surgery if that is something that takes your interest.” He looks at you over his goggles, seeing the very much disinterested look on your face. “I’d… rather not.”

He chuckles and reaches out to take your hand, bringing you close. “Darling, you’re fine as you are.” He leans in and places a kiss to your cheek. “Or perhaps I could buy you some stilts?”

His sass made you belly laugh and playfully hit his arm. Though, you’re still very grateful that he loves you regardless.

Crosshair

“Can’t reach?” Crosshairs words from behind you make you pause in your reach up to a higher shelf on the ship, looking over your shoulder at him.

“You know more than well that I can’t reach up there. Why does that medkit have to be in such a stupid place?” Although he was ready to tease you, something he usually did in regard to your height (in a loving yet playful way - he wouldn’t ever go to far to the point he would upset you), his eyes flash with concern.

“What do you need it for?” He walks over straight away, standing behind you as he reaches up and grabs what you’ve been struggling to reach.

“I… hit my head.”

“Let me see,” he makes you face him, bringing you closer to his body and you’re only met with his chest as his fingers trace through your hair and when you let out a wince, he stops and inspects the injury. “You’ve got a small cut.”

“Yeah, I know.” You pull back from your boyfriend, starting to rummage through the kit as he stands with his arms now folded over his chest.

“Were you under a control panel? Again?” He raises his questions and you could only give him a sheepish smile.

“Tech said-.”

“I don’t care what Tech said,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “just because your short is not a reason for you to cram yourself into parts of the ship.”

You roll your eyes, noticing his protectiveness which he isn’t shy about showing with you. “It had to be done.”

You hear him mumble something under his breath and you’re pretty sure it was along the lines of something about Tech getting a cut on his head. “Stop sulking.” You order him, earning a small glare but knows he won’t win with you. So instead, he grabs your thighs and lifts you onto the counter and takes actions into his own hands and helps patch you up.

“Grumpy pants.” You smirk up at him.

“Short arse.”

Masterlist

My Ko-Fi if any feels like buying me a wee tea one day 💜

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