#there is an urge to fight back against gendered expectations | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eoieopda · 8 months

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tidal.

but vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “i don’t need a sales pitch. you will never — ever — have to convince me to fuck you.”

pairing: vernon x afab!reader type: one-shot (fluff n’ smut) au: est. relationship wc: 4.8k rating: 18+ a/n: i didn’t plan this whatsoever, but i felt so weirdly compelled to write it that i avoided eye-contact with all of my wips, and now… here we are, lol. cw: pov switch, reader is afab + on their period, gender identity + pronouns aren’t designated, blood mention (obvi), unprotected p in v penetration (ill-advised!!), wee bit of dry-humping (ig?), a lil massage, pet names (baby, sweetheart), self-indulgent ref to a favorite docu of mine, and lastly — vernon (yes, this is a warning 🧍🏻) 🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.

Vernon isn’t blind.

He can see you out of the corner of his eye, laying flat on your back, several unexplained centimeters away from his side. With the duvet clenched in your fists, you stare intently up at the ceiling, like you’re waiting for it to move — or trying to move it yourself, telekinetically. You keep your bottom lip pinched between your teeth, as if you expect it to make a run for it.

So, yes, Vernon can see you.

He just can’t figure out what’s wrong with you.

For a few minutes, he attempts to pay attention to the documentary lighting up the screen on the wall ahead. You were the one that picked it — some wild tale about mother-daughter recluses in New York — and he finds it hard to give a shit about it without your usual commentary. Your hot takes are his favorite part of any movie night, after all.

He’ll be the first to admit that he’s never been good at keeping his eyes off you. Try as he might, he can’t glue his gaze to the television; each glance in your direction sticks longer than the one before it, testing the waters. Minutes slip away just like this until he completely caves, turns his head fully, and stares at you outright.

You still don’t seem to notice.

His brow scrunches up as he watches you, caught in the middle between concerned, confused, and amused by how absolutely ridiculous you look right now. When he speaks, he tries to sound stern, like he isn’t fighting the urge to laugh.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” is all he gets in response.

You don’t even look his way. If anything, you tense harder now that his attention is on you.

None of it makes sense. Not the weird gap you’ve left between your body and his, your total refusal to look him in the eye, or the fact that there wasn’t an argument to precipitate any of this distance. It’s a symptom with no apparent cause, and it’s totally baffling. Brain-breaking, even.

Frowning, Vernon scoots himself across the bed to get closer to you.

You don’t reciprocate.

He tugs gently at the hem of your sweatshirt in a silent plea for your attention and receives radio silence in response; unless he counts the way you swallow thickly.

Which, for the record, he does not.

This close, Vernon can feel the anxious energy pulsing out of your tensed-up body in waves, so he leans away and props himself up on his elbow. Desperate to know what broke you and how to fix it, he mutters, “What is happening right now?”

Ope.

It comes out harsher than it was supposed to, reading more like annoyance than worry, so he immediately clears his throat. Gently and with a brush of his knuckles against your hip bone, he tries again: “Are you okay? Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

A fly on the wall might get the wrong impression and think he stroked you with a live wire instead.

“Oh, my god. No!” You sputter with a jolt, shifting gears quickly from vaguely on-edge to horrified. You shake your head so frantically that Vernon fears you’ll detach it. “No, you haven’t done anything. I’m fine, I just —”

He interjects with a laugh, “— I don’t necessarily believe that —”

Visibly cringing with every muscle in your body, you cover your face with your hands. Not long after you take a deep breath does a meek voice slip out through your fingers, sounding beyond embarrassed.

“I’m so incomprehensibly horny right now that I can’t even look at you.”

For a second, it’s dead silent because he can’t quite process how much of a weirdo you are, or how completely and hopelessly enamored he is with you. But then the dam breaks. His laugh comes out so forcefully that you pull your hands away from your face, eyes wide.

“Is that so?” He smirks, nodding his head towards the television. “Grey Gardens really gets your motor running, huh?”

Absolutely aghast, you swat at his bicep. Then, you sling your arm over your eyes and groan, “I got my period. It has turned me into a sex-crazed monster, I fear.”

Vernon nods in understanding, even though you can’t see it, and hums, “Ahh.”

And he leaves it at that, only because you seem to have more that you want to say. Something you want to ask, maybe, or a reason you may want to give for not jumping his bones at the first opportunity. He’s down, he thinks without hesitation, so long as you are.

But you don’t say anything.

Maybe you aren’t actually down after all, and that’s why you won’t look at him. Shit, are you embarrassed? Should I say something? Silence falls overtop like a weighted blanket, smothering the two idiots who can’t tell whose turn it is to talk.

Do you or do you not want this right now?

You mumble something that he can’t catch, so he nudges your side gently with his knuckles to encourage you. Just as nervous, you repeat yourself without looking at him, “Period sex is supposed to help with cramps, I think.”

He thinks he’s read the exact same article you have. More than that, he wishes you’d look over at him and see for yourself how completely unbothered he is by this concept.

“If you think about it, it’s kind of like a natural lubricant,” you add in a voice that’s even smaller than before.

Your shyness really might kill him, so he reaches over to grab your hand and gently pull your arm away from your eyes. It’s the first time you’ve looked at him since you laid down — since you put your self-imposed no-contact order in place — and he feels his stupid heart swell.

For what it’s worth, he feels his dick twitch, too.

You open your mouth to speak again, likely to continue your unnecessary campaigning; Vernon is having none of it. He tugs your wrist just enough to tilt you inward, then he kisses you hard enough to shut you up. A tiny whimper slips out of your lips when he pulls away, and it almost makes him regret his decision to do so.

But Vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “I don’t need a sales pitch. You will never — ever — have to convince me to fuck you.”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners, like this is somehow news to you. It shouldn’t be. He’s told you a thousand times in as many different ways how thoroughly crazy you drive him just by existing so closely to him, but maybe you didn’t take him seriously then.

To emphasize his point, he slips his hand under the hem of your sweatshirt and finds your bare waist with the pad of his thumb. It spirals slowly against your warm skin, making both of you dizzy. Then, sick of the distance, Vernon dips his head down to press a kiss to your temple.

“Like, ever,” he murmurs, lips following the curve of your jaw.

Soft, slow kisses trail behind him as he travels down to your lips. Your head tilts further backwards with every single one, providing him with more and more access.

He states it matter-of-factly because, to him, it is. “I’m down so bad for you that it might be terminal.”

“Oh?”

You try to laugh but turn to putty when his palm rests fully on the curve of your waist and pulls you flush against him. The surprised gasp you let loose confirms his suspicion: You can feel how serious he is, affirmation throbbing against your abdomen in time with his heartbeat.

Vernon smirks to himself, relishing your reaction, and bypasses your mouth entirely. A moan escapes from you, soft like an exhale, as his lips move slowly down the length of your neck. Every so often — just to feel you shiver — he flicks the tip of his tongue along the delicate skin he finds there.

“It might be messy…”

The rest of your needless warning gets lost in a dreamy sigh as he suckles at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. Shifting even closer, your desperate fingers reach out and cling to his t-shirt.

Vernon licks a stripe over the galaxy blooming on your skin. He hums, hand traveling upwards from your waist, “Don’t care about a mess.”

And he means it.

Mindful of any soreness, he smooths his hand over your left breast and massages it tenderly, swearing to himself that he’ll throw the whole fucking mattress out if that’s what it comes down to. For you, he’ll race across town on foot to buy another one, and — fuck it — if the store is closed, he might just break in.

You’re growing impatient; your fingers let go of his shirt and tangle themselves in his hair.

“So needy,” he chuckles low in his chest, teasing. “You know, I think you’re lying. I think it is this bat-shit insane documentary that’s driving you wild, and you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”

“Stop,” you whine, dragging out the vowel sound.

You don’t, though; you throw your left leg over his right thigh and shimmy forward until your cunt grazes his dick. Involuntarily, he groans at the warmth radiating off your core. Every part of you drives him just the slightest bit insane. You seem to know it, he thinks as he watches your pupils dilate in real time.

But he can play games, too, so he rolls his hips forward and grinds against you. He pushes you further, “Don’t get me wrong, baby. I’m not kink-shaming you —”

“Hansol Vernon Chwe!”

Oh, shit. Government name?

“— I’m just a little surprised, I guess.” He sighs with a shrug. “Think you know somebody…”

Your impatience is scribbled all across your scrunched up face. It seeps into your voice when you crash back against the pillows and huff, “Can you please stop fucking with me and start fucking me?”

“Sex-crazed monster, huh?” Leaning over, Vernon punctuates his question with a quick press of his lips to yours.

You whimper, “I’m so serious. I might explode.”

“Then go take care of whatever you need to take care of.” He kisses you again, smiling so fondly that his eyes may even be twinkling. “And I’ll go get a towel.”

You wait until Vernon clears the threshold before launching yourself out of bed at breakneck speed. Stumbling all the while, you race off to the adjoining bathroom and shut the door forcefully behind you. When it clatters against the frame, you finally admit to yourself that you might be a little bit eager.

Maybe.

Opting to keep your baggy, bleach-stained sweatshirt on, you wiggle out of your shorts and — what he refers to as — your crisis diaper. The high-waisted, frumpy, beige panties are utilized exclusively during your period, and to your surprise, they’ve remained spotless. It’s only ever the pretty and expensive pairs that wind up as collateral damage, isn’t it?

As they pool around your ankles, you can’t help but think that Vernon’s nickname for them is pretty spot on. That’s partly why you figured he might need to be talked into this. Unsated arousal aside, you feel as far from sexy as you can possibly get.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts, kick what you’ve discarded into a pile near the hamper, and let your sweatshirt shift down to cover as much of your ass as it’s capable of managing. You grab a square of toilet paper; then, you go to work excavating the wad of cotton that separates you from everything you want in this life.

It is within the realm of possibility that you’re a little bit eager and a little bit dramatic.

Perhaps.

After discarding the evidence in the small trash can under the sink, you wash your hands as if you’re about to step into an operating theater and not the bedroom you spend half your life in. When you finally feel sterile, you lift your head and catch your reflection in the mirror. Instantly, you make eye contact with the painful, hormonal pimple on your chin — the one you’ve been waging a retinoid war against for days.

“Bitch,” you mutter, like calling it names will be the one thing that finally gets it to shrink. Of course, your plan doesn’t work, but you feel a little less powerless. That’s good enough, you think. At least, as good as it’s going to get.

Now half-naked and certifiably unobstructed, you tiptoe back to your bedroom much more carefully than you left it. Vernon enters from the opposite doorway at the same time, jumping slightly the second he notices you. You ignore his frightened eyes and glance down at the crisp, white towel he’s clutching.

You open your mouth to suggest anything otherwise, but he beats you to it. His eyebrows shoot up his forehead as his mouth widens outwards, a self-aware rectangle. Otherwise expressionless, he lets go of an atonal, “Aaaaaaah”, that tells you he’s caught on.

He says nothing else before turning around and walking back the way he came. You have to bite down on your lips to keep from cackling.

That one’s mine, you think, still as infatuated as you were at the start. I chose that one.

While he’s gone, you try not to move, not to breathe too heavily. Vernon said he didn’t care about a mess, but when he said it, he was speaking theoretically with his hand on your tit. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d spoken recklessly with your body melting under his touch.

As far as you know, he hasn’t had any experience with this mess in practice. He could wind up finding you about as sexy as you currently feel — to wit: not at all. So, erring on the side of caution, you turn yourself into a statue and wait for the boy and his towel to find you again.

When he comes back, he plants a drive-by kiss on your unsuspecting mouth before skirting right around you. With shocking finesse, he grabs the corners of the — thankfully — black towel, which unfurls in the seconds before he flicks it upwards. It lands perfectly in the center of the bed, flat without needing to be fussed with.

“Wow,” he mutters to himself, taking in his clean work with raised eyebrows.

The impressed look is still on his face when he turns around, but you don’t have time to comment on his feat because he laughs as soon as he sees you.

“Kinda look like Donald Duck with the whole top-on, bottom-off situation.”

I chose this one?

You pout with an indignant gasp, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not wearing a sailor hat, so…. bad analogy. Rude, even.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You stumble a little on your way into him; the jury’s still out about whether it’s his hushed tone or the sudden movement that trips you up.

Between his thumb and index finger, he gently captures your chin. You follow along with his unspoken direction, tilt your face up to meet his. This close, you can see your own reflection in his pupils, black dilating against the warmest shade of brown you’ve ever seen.

Vernon takes a moment of silence as he takes in your features, and he studies them so intently that his eyebrows crinkle on their own. He sighs, sounding so completely serious. “You might get prettier every time I look at you.”

It’s unclear if you’re melting, or gushing; and if it’s the latter, you can’t say which biological process is at fault. Thankfully, the hand at the small of your back keeps your weak knees from buckling when his lips brush over yours.

“Even if you’re dressed like Winnie the Pooh.”

You feel him smirk even before you hear him laugh at his own joke. Then, you feel his hand slide down to cup your bare cheek, squeezing affectionately. You want to tell him that this analogy is still inaccurate because you’re not wearing a crop-top; but he gently instructs you to ditch the sweatshirt and get on the bed, and your body moves automatically. No questions asked.

Carefully, you crawl up onto the mattress, then you center yourself on the towel. Still on your knees, you tilt your head curiously and ask, “Where do you want me?”

“Anywhere,” he breezes, pulling his shirt off and tossing it onto the dresser nearby. He amends, “Everywhere. All the time, and then some.”

“Better be careful,” you tease. “Talking like that might have consequences. You may never be able to get rid of me.”

His joggers are the next to go. Your sanity follows shortly thereafter, hungry eyes lingering on the imprint of his cock underneath his boxer briefs. You have to clamp your mouth shut to keep from drooling.

Brown eyes sparkling, he steps closer to you, kicking his pants aside as he goes. “Be careful,” he echoes, not a hint of cockiness to be found — just softness. “Saying it like a threat doesn’t make me wish it’s not a promise.”

I choose this one.

Crossing all the way to you, Vernon reaches the bed and climbs up with significantly more grace than you did. The mattress dips under his weight as he kneels right in front of you, mirroring your posture and causing your stomach to flip with anticipation.

You can’t help yourself; you lick your lips and look up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Naked, please. Like, right now.”

“Damn, I gotta do this myself?” Incredulous, he holds his hands up while glancing pointedly down at his underwear, then back at you.

You arch an eyebrow, unfazed.

“Depends.” You shrug. “Do you want to keep them? Because I really will rip them off of you.”

He concedes quickly; he always does. Sighing, he shakes his head and tuts, “Sex-crazed monster,” before pushing his briefs down his thighs. His length hangs heavy between you, but you swear you can feel its perfect ache inside you already.

You have a one-track mind, so you don’t hesitate to reach out and wrap your hand around him. A groan crawls up from the bottom of your chest when you feel the weighted warmth of his cock in your palm. You don’t hold that back, either.

“Fuck,” he sighs, head tilting as far backwards as it’ll go. Unexpectedly, he laughs. He doesn’t catch the quizzical look you shoot him, though he explains himself anyway, “Your hands are so fucking cold, but it feels so good.”

Swiping your thumb over his tip, you spread the pre-cum you find there down his shaft and stroke him slowly. He grows harder with every gentle squeeze, every pass of your fist.

“We’re learning a lot of new shit about each other today.” You lean forward to pepper kisses across his collarbones. The hum of your mouth against his skin when you talk makes his cock twitch in your hand. “You might have a temperature kink and a thing for Winnie the Pooh.”

He snorts, nowhere near serious, “Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me,” you counter smugly, and you do mean it.

Vernon tilts his head forward to stare back at you. You’re already turning into a puddle, but if the look he gives you says anything, it’s that your melting isn’t enough for him. His voice is low and velvet-lined when he responds, “How about I just make you cum instead?”

“That could work, yeah.” You shrug.

He runs the pads of his fingers down each side of your waist to your hips, then back again; and each time he does it, you shiver. Reflexively, your back arches, chest pressing against his.

At this, he smirks, “It could? Maybe?”

“We can workshop it.”

“Or,” Vernon so generously offers, “You can turn around and lay down on your stomach. You know, if that’s sufficient.”

It’s not until you whip around and flop down onto the towel that you realize you never responded with words. Oh well. You figure he gets the point, judging by the quiet laughter you hear as he settles with his knees on either side of your upper thighs.

You don’t know what his next move will be — you don’t care, either, as long as he moves in your direction — so you don’t anticipate his palms flattening against your bare back, applying perfect pressure with his thumbs while he rubs away the soreness at the very base of your torso.

“Oh, shit,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut as the heels of his hands work out the tension in your muscles. “Have you always been good at this?”

You feel his chest brush against your shoulder blades when he hovers over you. Against the nape of your neck, he murmurs, “Nope.”

He kisses down your spine, mouth trailing after his hands as they work their way back down your body.

“Lemme guess — you read an article? Studied up?”

You get a snicker, then an affirmative hum, then another kiss. This time, it’s at the curve of your spine, just above your ass. Seconds later, he’s kneading the doughy flesh of your cheeks until your whole fucking body tingles.

That’s when it hits you:

Under normal circumstances, Vernon would be face-first in your pussy by now. Devouring you in earnest, like he’s starving. He can’t do that now — and you don’t blame him — so he’s making up for what you both view as a loss.

God, you want him.

One hand disappears from you, but you don’t have to guess where it went. You can hear the barely-there hiss of breath through his teeth when he takes his cock in that hand; as well as the very faint shift of his palm while he pumps himself.

“You’re gonna have to navigate, baby. I dunno how sensitive you are like this, what’s too much — any of that, so you need to tell me how you want me to move.”

Suddenly dizzy over how badly you need him, all you can muster is a nod. Vernon must want a verbal acknowledgment, though, because he leans back over you with one hand bearing his weight beside your head.

He kisses your shoulder and urges you, “Please say so if you need to stop or switch it up. Don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.”

“I will,” you breathe. “But I can’t even articulate how much I need you inside of me right now, so please — pretty please — fuck me.”

The tip of his nose bumps your temple affectionately. Right beside your ear, he teases, “With a cherry on top?” And it vibrates down your whole goddamn spine.

“Vernon!” You whine, burying your face in the comforter. It’s muffled, but you warn him nonetheless, “Don’t make me come back there.”

“Aish. Calm down, sex monster.”

The instinct to twist around and glare at him over your shoulder is strong, but every feral urge you feel is stronger. So, when he tells you to spread yourself open for him and tilt your hips back, you do so without even a hint of complaining.

With the crown of his cock slipping through your folds, inching towards your entrance, you hear him curse under his breath. Suddenly self-conscious, you finally crane your neck to the side and glance back at him.

“We don’t have to,” you whisper. “If it’s gross and you don’t want to anymore, I get it —”

He balks at your suggestion without letting so much as a beat pass. “None of that, sweetheart; no spiraling. I’m just trying to figure out the logistics of, like… how to survive how good this already feels.”

Struck dumb, all you can muster is a peep, “Oh?”

“Shit, yeah.” His response comes in a low groan. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

It’s a good call on his part, a suggestion you’re glad to have taken, because the pressure of him entering you is intense enough to knock the wind out of you. Empty lungs likely would’ve led to your untimely demise.

You whimper, already overwhelmed with the combination of pain and pleasure; the best kind of ache. The little, breathy moans must freak him out, however, because his fingertips caress your waist as he checks in: “This okay?”

Your limp arm lifts off the mattress, which you’ve melted fully into, and you form a circle with your index finger and thumb to indicate that you’re okay. The light is bright fucking green; you’ve just maxed out your capacity for speech.

Vernon continues his slow thrust forward, giving you ample time to adjust to his size.

“Oh my god,” he grunts, “This is — shit, I can’t believe we haven’t done this before. If I knew how good you’d feel like this, I wouldn’t have waited around for you to ask me.”

That hits like a truck.

He was waiting on you.

You spent months convincing yourself that he’d need to be convinced, and chickening out before you could raise the idea. Months, and months, and months, of craving him during your werewolf transformation; wasting away over a shitty assumption that Vernon is anything like the people you’ve been with before.

Christ.

His credit for putting up with you is long overdue.

Too tongue-tied to speak any of that out loud, you settle for a summary that you hope conveys the message: “I love you so fucking much.”

Mindful of how deep it will push him into your cunt, he leans down over you carefully. Weight balanced on his knees and forearms, he envelopes you in his body heat, trails kisses across your shoulder, and echoes your words back at you between each one.

“Is this too much?” He whispers, rolling his hips slowly.

You feel him everywhere, with every drag of his cock along your walls; and you can’t tell where that throbbing sensation is coming from, him or you.

You shake your head and sigh, “‘s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Like he knows it’ll unravel you, his large hand comes to rest over the back of yours. His fingers slip through the spaces between and squeeze you much more gently than the vice grip you hold on the bedding below you. He keeps holding you — just like this — through every movement.

The sensation of being this surrounded, this loved, this whole crashes over you like a wave and knocks you off balance.

“I’m so close,” you pant, voice as ragged as your breathing. There’s nothing that he isn’t already giving you with every deep, deliberate thrust into your heat; but you beg nonetheless, “Please, please, please —”

His speed doesn’t increase, but the intensity does. The smack of his hips colliding with your ass does, too, and you feel it reverberating in your bones. Buried as far inside of you as he can be, cock tip kissing your cervix with every high tide, length rolling across your g-spot with every low.

You cum so hard — so completely, invoking every single muscle you have — that you forget how to breathe. With a choked-out gasp, you squeeze your eyes shut and let your orgasm devastate you.

“Fuck!”

Vernon gets caught up in the current, too, grinding desperately against you until he’s swept up in your wake. You feel him twitch inside you as his release floods, leaving you so lost in his warmth that you feel boneless underneath him.

His face winds up hidden in the crook of your neck, somewhere amidst the baby hairs that cling to the sheen of your sweat. You feel his lips fluttering against your skin when he laughs, “Oh…my god.”

“Mmphf.” You nod weakly in agreement. Beyond blissed, your body still tingles too much to move.

Slurring, you add, “‘s good. ‘s really…”

The rest of that thought dissolves into something between a moan and a yawn.

Just as tired, Vernon pats your ass cheek affectionately and mumbles, “Well said. No notes.”

You tilt your head far enough to free your face from the sheets. When you do, you find your boyfriend fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open. In the rare seconds he can, he looks back at you in a daze that seems even more adoring than it does fuck-drunk.

“I think I need to hibernate now,” you announce. “Think you just fucked me so well that I need to take a sabbatical.”

He counter-offers, “Shower first, then sabbatical?”

You wiggle so that you can pull your joint hands to your mouth. You can’t kiss him properly while he’s laid out on top of you, but you can press your lips to the back of his hand and hope he feels how much of you that you pour into it.

“Okay, but, like…. who’s carrying who?”

1K notes · View notes

bunnyreaper · 4 months

Text

john helps you with your gender studies work, then decides to properly educate you.

(18+/MDNI, established d/s dynamic, dubcon(ish), misogyny kink, degradation, choking, pussy slapping.)

part of you wanted to slam the textbook shut the second your handsome distraction of a boyfriend walked through the door, but a large part of you knew you had to get your reading done now before your ability to concentrate evaporated come nightfall.

you try to focus on the words on the page as you hear john shuck off his jacket and boots, and throw his keys onto the table by the door.

"home, love." he calls out, before stepping through into the flat.

"hey." you greet back, small smile on your face even if your response is a little half-hearted.

john shuffles over to the couch, collapsing down onto the plush cushions before he pulls off his beanie and throws it on the coffee table.

he gives you a few moments to wrap up the page you're reading, then he expects you to come over and fuss over him like you always do.

the fussing doesn't come. and his leg starts to rock in impatience--after a trip to the base, he needs his soft, sweet girl in his arms. needs his love cooing over him and staring at him like he hangs the stars in the sky for her.

instead, your nose is in that fucking book.

growing impatient, he calls out to you once more, though his voice doesn't betray the way he sits on the couch and fights the urge to bounce his leg, or the twitch of his fingers. "what's that, love?"

"new class." you flash the book cover at him, key concepts in gender studies.

john parts his thighs, making a space before he taps them. "come sit here, bring your textbook." his command is gentle yet compelling, and you rise to your feet without a second thought.

"study snuggles?" you ask, a bright smile on your face as you make your way over. john often tempted you into his arms so he could cuddle you while you read, and you both got what you wanted.

"something like that." he smirks, grabbing your waist and pulling you into his lap so your arse is flush against him. he circles an arm around your waist, keeping you securely in place as you get back to reading.

john can't help himself though. his girl in his lap, right where he wants her, and he's sure if he just starts teasing he can make her forget all about the book. he's done it so many times before.

he pulls the fabric of your top down your shoulder, baring your skin to him so he can press ravenous kisses all across your shoulder and all up your pretty neck. he knows your weak spots, targets them directly with hungry licks and playful bites, until he hears you gasp and sigh in delight, until he feels you squirm in his lap.

"john, i'm trying to focus." you sigh, protest weak as his kisses continue.

one of his hands trails up your thigh, pushing past the hem to expose your thighs and tease your sensitive skin, his hands on a mission.

like a good girl, you sit and take what john gives you, desperately trying to keep your focus as arousal fogs your brain. maybe you have to re-read the same line about five times, but you're determined to keep going--the book's contents have made you feel determined and powerful.

john's hands both settle on your knees, pulling your legs wider until they're stretched over his and exposing you to anything john wishes to give to you.

still, you try to keep your mind on the book and not on the way his fingers creep up the silky skin of your inner thighs, or the way his hardness presses against your cheeks.

you turn the page over, finally having finished with the prior one. john settles his chin against your shoulder where it glistens with his spit, and you can feel his eyes on the page, reading along with you.

"don't you feel silly, darling?" he whispers, fingers teasing you further, making you jerk in his lap.

"why?" you ask, trying to not pay him or his like of questioning too much mind.

"reading feminist theory when you're far from one." his voice is taunting, a purr that shoots right through you with how condescending it is.

"i am a feminist. you're a feminist." you reason, yet as you say it, you catch onto his little game. at the same time, he reaches up to take ahold of your hand, squeezing. you squeeze back twice.

"i mean look, women and power." he scoffs, taking your finger to point to the sentence, as if couldn't read it on your own. "i think you should drop the class, darling."

"why?"

one hand moves back to your thighs, thick fingers pads stroking across the outer seam of your panties, the other comes to the nape of your neck--stroking and kneading, giving you goosebumps everywhere.

"don't want it filling your pretty little head full of nonsense." he coos, punctuating his words with a tighter grip.

"nonsense?" you ask, voice sweet and innocent.

john hums for a moment, before his slips round the column of your throat. "who has power in this relationship?"

he choses that moment to ghost his fingers across your clit through your panties, and he watches as your body tries to chase his fingers.

"y-you."

"and why's that, princess?" he turns your head and kisses the side of your jaw, hovers his fingers inches away from where you need him most.

"because you're older and wiser, but really it's because I give you power!" you protest, voice growing whiny as your body betrays you.

john laughs--a low, mocking sound. his fingers tighten around your throat, restricting your blood flow. "hmm. but you like listening to an older man, don't you?"

"yes..."

finally he pushes his fingers firmly into your clit, chucking as you buck and your legs almost start kicking. "how is that empowering?"

pleasure floods you immediately. your grip on your book tightens, your eyes slip shut and a breathy moan pushes past your lips."it's just a fantasy... it's not... real."

"isn't it? are you sure?" he coos again, talking to you like you're beyond stupid. his fingers quicken, his grip chokes you harder. "if you wanted me to stop, could you fight me off?"

you thrash against his hold but find it entirely futile. "no!" you cry out.

"why?"

john relents, stilling all movement so you can calm down and give him a semi-coherent answer. even with his hands not actively teasing you, it still feels so hard to think.

"well you're in the army for one." you mutter, a sarcastic edge to your voice that earns you a short, sharp slap to your pussy that brings you back in line. "because you're bigger and stronger.

"why do you think that is?"

you hate the way it feels like john is actually picking apart your thoughts, invading your brain and reprogramming you--and you know he hasn't even gotten started.

"because... you're a man."

"hmm, it's natural for men to be strong, powerful." he explains, his words patient and authoritative. he returns to massaging your clit, making you associate the words with pleasure. "for women to be weaker, in need of protection."

you wrack your brain to think of a response, a rebuttal to john's claim. "that doesn't make us unequal."

"no, princess, this little slit between your legs does." he mocks, as his fingers now dive underneath the fabric of your soaked panties to probe at your hole. "what is a cunt's purpose?"

"to... get fucked?" you mumble, feeling shy. finally, you close the book, tossing it down on the floor and listening to john instead.

"fucked and bred by a man. dominated. conquered." his fingers thrust inside you, ruthless as they piston into your needy hole. "it's just nature, hmm? a cunt gets fucked, a cock does the fucking."

"i... guess." what he is saying makes sense to your aroused, confused, weak female brain.

"and your body knows it too, that's why you're leaking all over my fingers." he croons before sweeping your wetness all over your aching clit.

"no, that's because--"

he slaps your cunt again.

"If you didn't like it, you wouldn't be soaked darling." he tuts and shakes his head, dismissive of your feeble protest. "it's normal, princess. your body doesn't believe in fantasy, it just knows reality."

"s'not a bad thing to want to be protected, coddled, cared for. not wrong to give into your instincts, to want to be filled up with cock and cum, to please a man."

he keeps talking, keeps re-educating you as his fingers work over your puffy nub and the sensation of being a little messy girl overwhelms you.

"goes both ways love, wanna please you too, but we each have our roles, no?"

"yeah... you're right..." you nod weakly.

"there has to be a reason this is the way things have always been, hmm?"

john continues, launching into a long speech as he works you closer and closer to the edge. "and look at what you do for me. what would they think if they could see you now?"

your brain starts to slow, his words echoing around your empty little brain.

still, he persists. still, he preaches his patriarchal gospel. "if they knew the times you skipped classes just to stay at home, down on your knees, worshipping my cock with that pretty fucking mouth?"

his words turn to a condescending growl, a mocking roar as he infiltrates every last corner of your mind. "if they knew the way misogyny gets you fucking soaked, love."

the hand on your neck glides as his fingers intrude into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and choking you on the digits. "could you even spell patriarchy right now, explain feminism? no? go on, tell me you're a feminist, princess." He urges, unrelenting.

all you can do is gargle and choke in response, unable to do the one simple thing john asks of you, unable to do it because you're weak. a woman. just a needy cunt.

"good girl. my good girl. that's it, surrender to a big strong man like me. s'just natural, love." his filthy, forbidden words have you right on the edge. but you know the rules, you don't come without his permission.

luckily for you--john is merciful, kind, and takes care of what's his. after all, he only wants what's best for you. "cum for me. cum the last of your brains away, sweetheart."

with his command, the coil within you snaps, sending you over the edge of a brain-shattering orgasm--a high unlike any other. it feels like you do actually cum your brains out, as your body shakes against john's hold and cries leave your throat until it's almost raw.

john holds you steady, safe in his arms as you come down from the high and he presses sweet kisses along every inch of exposed skin he can possibly reach.

"fuck, john." you sigh, eyes remaining shut in your blissed out state. you cling to where john's arms are wrapped around you, squeezing him back.

"good?" he whispers as he strokes you soothingly. "didn't go too far?"

"no, i loved it."

he smirks against your skin, relieved that you enjoyed exploring the fantasy with him.

"good. how about i take you to bed and really fuck the feminism out of you then?"

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price #captain john price #captain price #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfiction #bunny writes #cw misogyny

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itoshiexx · 9 months

Text

pretty

synopsis: when your insecurities get the best of you, rin comes to the rescue to make sure you know you're so much more than pretty.

pairing: itoshi rin x gn!reader | words: 845 | warnings: established relationship, slight hurt/comfort, insecurities, i tried to make this as gender neutral as possible but reader is implied to wear makeup, suggestive at the end!!, aged up characters

notes: it’s me, hi, i'm the problem it's me! i'm back with this idea i had while i was trying some clothes. kinda hate how this turned out but whatever, i'm sad

masterlist part 2 (nsfw)

you never really took long to get ready. it was one of the reasons rin loved you so much: you were practical with your outfit and your makeup, and very good at managing your time. for someone as the young itoshi, who screamed practicality, you were a perfect match.

it is why rin is standing up from his place on the living room’s couch, sprinting towards your shared bedroom — to understand why you are taking so long. if you don’t leave soon, you might be late for your dinner reservations.

entering the bedroom door, rin spots you easily. you are standing in front of the mirror, with nothing but your underwear on, staring at your reflection with a lost gaze.

he decides he doesn’t like this gaze on you.

“what’s wrong?” his question seems to break you from whatever stupor you were in; his bluntness catching you off guard in an unusual manner, since you were used to your boyfriend’s direct nature.

rin is met with silence. your lips part and close several times, but nothing comes out. his brows furrow, and he takes a few steps inside to take a closer look to you.

your hands are wandering through your skin — from the plush of your thighs, your hips, the curve of your waist, stopping at your tummy. then, they move further to your ribs, chest, shoulders, up until your neck.

it’s like you’re analyzing something, although rin can’t quite pinpoint what it is. he could almost say you’re admiring yourself, if not for the slight furrow of your brows and the crisp on your lips.

“do you… do you think i’m pretty, rin?”

your voice is so small it scares him for a moment. he wasn’t expecting such a question. nevertheless, rin takes a few more steps until he’s right behind you in the mirror, and his arms find home in your waist in a tight embrace. you shiver feeling the material of his white button up shirt against your bare skin.

you feel his scrutinizing gaze from over your shoulder, and you have to fight the urge to hide. it’s silly, and you know; because you never have to hide from rin. he has seen you, all of you, way too many times.

but there’s just something about this moment that makes you feel so little and so insecure, because the stupid voices in your head keep telling you bad things about yourself. and you also know that they are just intrusive thoughts, and that you shouldn’t listen to them, but right now it’s really fucking hard.

“pretty?” he repeats, a little breathless. his eyes wander through every bit of you, like he’s trying to commit to memory. “you’re asking me if i think you’re pretty?”

you shake your head. “forget it, i shouldn’t have asked—”

“love,” rin interrupts your rambling, “you are so much more than pretty.”

you blink a few times, unsure you heard him right. rin’s hold on you tightens.

“you are beautiful.” he rests his chin on your shoulder, still staring intently at your figure. “you are… god. you’re breathtaking.”

he leaves a featherlight kiss on your neck, and you can’t help but feel incredibly shy under his strong gaze. rin stares at you as if you are the most beautiful creature that has ever landed on earth, like some sort of divine being that came from the heavens to bless every human lucky enough to deserve to cross your path. probably because, to him, that was exactly what you were.

and rin was the luckiest of them all, for he was the one who you chose to call “lover”, the one that could spend every minute of his existence by your side, bathing in your glow, basking in the warmth of every one of your smiles.

he was the one that could feel the texture of your skin beneath his fingertips and worship your body like some kind of temple, giving all the love it deserved. and if you were asking him that question, well… then maybe he wasn’t worshiping you enough.

“baby,” his right hand leaves your waist and trails all the way to your shoulder, where he leaves another kiss. “look at me.”

you shake your head no. you miss the way his expression turns pained. “please?”

you sigh. you’re such a goner for itoshi rin. and he knows that anything he asks in that tone will be granted. so, albeit hesitantly, you do what he says, and meet his gaze in the mirror.

the small smile he gives you is enough to send your heart into a frenzy, giving you those stupid butterflies in your stomach that always appear when it comes to him.

“you are everything good in this world,” he says, like it’s the truth, like it’s all he’s ever known.

then, gently turning you around to face him, he grips your waist tightly and brings his face impossibly close to yours, until your noses are touching and his lips are hovering above yours.

“and i will show you just how much.”

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neuvistar · 10 months

Text

i present to uu… a kim dokja mini thirst cuz i need him so bad! ++ think of this as a filler, cuz i feel the need to write something after all the requests drowning in my drafts soooyes! i don’t like keeping u all waiting so here’s a lil filler <3

for warnings ! suggestive, dokja x afab reader but i didn’t rlly specify their gender, this is so messy n all over the place i’m sorry this isn’t the best, uhmmm dokja being such a sweetheart mhm mhm mhm, vaginal sex, kim dokja is good w his fingers foreals, some use of nicknames overall suggestive content !! | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“can i give you a kiss..?” was all dokja asked. you could’ve sworn you heard a quiet “please?” afterwards, but maybe that was just your mind playing tricks on you. dokja felt his face get warmer and warmer by the second, his heart racing as he could almost feel it pounding through his chest with how close his body was to yours. swallowing a lump in his throat, his thumb drew small circles on the flesh of your hips, eyes filled with desperation and plain lust. for you.

“mm.. of course you can, pretty”

he didn’t expect you to agree so easily. your response made his face flush even farther, dokja’s pupils dilated as he leaned in.. his arm on your waist. he pressed his lips against your own, kissing you deeply yet so passionately. how can someone’s kiss be so dirty but so gentle? his eyes fluttered shut as he held it in for as long as he could.. allowing his body to do all the talking before gently placing his hand the back of your neck to keep you still on his lap, oh yeah.. you’re not going anywhere anytime soon. dokja’s kisses were absolutely deadly, that’s why you loved them. he always took his sweet time with you, holding you ever-so gently as if you were a feather. kim dokja couldn’t keep his hands off of you either as his fingers travelling underneath your shirt, pinching your sensitive nipples.

“mmf!— s’pretty dokja..”

he planted chaste kisses against the base of your neck, watching your body jolt at the sudden contact as he chuckled against your skin. “you’re prettier.” he murmured in your ear. “you’re really pretty.”

“all for you.”

you began to grind your wet heat against his thighs, licking your lips. fuck, he wanted you so bad. and you grinding and pressing your pretty pussy against his thighs wasn’t helping. not at all. dokja bucked his hips against yours, you knew dokja.. he wasn’t just gonna turn down your desires. his lips latched onto yours again. “y—you’re too pretty babe, it’s almost hard to resist you.” he admitted, pressing soft kiss on your cheek before gesturing you keep going, rubbing yourself against his thigh at a quicker pace. dokja’s fingers shook as he struggled to hold hold himself back, trying his absolute hardest to fight his urges.. his urges to pick you up and bend you over over the table and fuck you like it was his last day on earth. he can’t do that, no. not yet. dokja pulls your shorts and panties aside, not waiting any longer as he sinks his slender fingers inside your drooling cunt, thrusting them into the sweetest spots of your walls. he curled his fingers inside you, you came almost immediately on his digits because of how well he was hitting your areas, pumping them slightly faster now. the lewd sounds of squelching was all that could be heard, mixing in with the whimpers and whines that left your pretty lips.

“dokja..” your boyfriend pressed his thumb against your clit, body shuddering as you moaned his name, tightening your grip on his clothes. you could tell dokja was slowly losing control of himself, fingers tugging at your nipples roughly. he began hastily undoing his belt, easing the discomfort of his erected cock as he aligned himself with your entrance, bucking his hips against yours almost immediately. your mouth hung open, throwing your head back at how full you already felt, yet he hasn’t even fit half of his length inside! “dokja!”

he felt so so good, you felt so full.. his cock sliding in and out of you so easily like that.. he knew just how well he could fuck you, he knew no one else could fuck you like he could. he knew that so so well. he grew more desperate for you, savouring the feeling of you clenching and pulsing around his dick every single time he hit a good spot. your body squirmed under his touch, eyes rolled to the back of your head at how harsh his thrusts were, your juices painting his dick with a creamy halo of white. “please.. please ah—“ he whined, lifting your waist. dokja held you in place, his thrusts grew harsher as he practically slammed himself inside your cunt. your moans gradually got louder, almost too loud.

a hand slapped over your mouth instinctively, mewling loudly as your fingers gripped harder at the softness of his coat, “f—fuck.. i think I'm stretching you out quite the bit right at this angle, h-hm?” he couldn’t stop his thrusts no matter how hard he tried, dokja shuddered as your soft lips touched him. your kisses felt like fire spreading across his skin. it felt heavenly to him, he couldn’t get enough of you. “you feel so good,” *he whispered between kisses, “more.. more please. i need more of you, i-i—“

in a blink of an eye, your back was pressed against the wall.. dokja’s arms hooked under your knees as he held you up, slowly setting you down on his cock, rubbing against your wet slit from time to time. “give me more.. please. ‘want you so bad already.. let me— fuck.. i wanna feel you even more.. please!”

special tag 4 my bff @yanqingisim

#ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse’s diary ૮꒰˶˃̵ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა #ᖭི༏ᖫྀ thirsts ૮꒰ᐡ ɞ̴̶̷ ̫ ᴗ̤ ᐡ꒱ა #dokja <33 #dokja x reader #orv kim dokja #orv x reader #kim dokja x reader #omniscient readers viewpoint smut #orv kdj #dokja smut #omniscient reader's viewpoint #omniscient reader smut #when u gonna let me fuckkk kim dokja

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ramblingoak · 2 months

Text

A Nap With Secondo

~ A special edition of Naps With Copia ~

For @sodoswitchimage who needed a nap with Bone Daddy 💙

Secondo x gn!reader

The naps are all stand alone stories so you do not have to read one before the other! This series came from my post about wanting to nap with Copia all around the abbey. The stories will all have gender neutral readers and soft naps.

Warnings: reader has anxiety, Secondo being kind and soft, sfw, 1100 words (thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers!)

“I’m going to kill your brother.”

Secondo seemed unmoved, partially because he had heard this threat from you before. When you stomped over to the couch in his office and sprawled across it with a groan he finally looked up from his work.

“Which one?”

You narrowed your eyes up at the ceiling, pondering his question for a moment before settling on your answer, “Terzo.”

He hummed thoughtfully and you heard the sound of paper being shuffled around before he finally spoke up, “Any particular reason or are you just feeling violent today?”

“You act like I come and do this all the time.” You turned your head to look at him, frowning when you were met with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

“I believe it was Sunday you sent me a very thoroughly researched email about, and I quote,” Secondo put his reading glasses on while he picked up and squinted at something on his phone. “Ah, here it is. How you were going to “raze Primo’s gardens to the ground and salt the earth to make sure nothing would ever grow again’.”

“I’m sorry, did you have to sit through an hour-long presentation on why he needed a new greenhouse?”

“Who do you think he practiced it on?” He took his glasses off, tossing them onto his desk and then steepling his fingers together while he regarded you with amusement. “And then there’s Copia.”

You resisted the urge to cuss his youngest brother out. Again.

“Copia is lucky he’s still here and not being roasted over a fire in the pit somewhere.”

“What was that argument over again? The touring budget?”

“It wasn’t an argument.” You jumped up from the couch and flounced over to Secondo’s desk, only stopping when you were at his side frowning down at him. “I just told him that if he showed up in yet another sparkly jacket I would shove those jackets so far up his a–ahh!”

Secondo was too quick for you, his arms slipping around your waist before you could move away. With a quick tug you had fallen into his lap and no amount of wriggling was working to set you free.

“Quit that I have work to do.”

“You can’t just yank me into your lap and expect me to quiet down.”

“I’m aware, amore. I just like having you close.” He brought a hand up to your chin, the leather smooth and warm on your skin as he tilted your head so your eyes met. “Even when you’re threatening to kill my family.”

“I haven't even told you what Terzo did.”

“Something bad enough to deserve whatever punishment you plan on dealing out, I’m sure.” He leaned in and gave you a gentle kiss before letting go of your chin. There was a smile threatening to break out on his face but you could tell he was fighting it. “Would you like help?”

“I think it’s best if you don’t get involved.” His chest shook behind your back with laughter and you sighed, settling back against him. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

“There’s nothing to ‘put up’ with, amore. I’m here for you just like you are there for me, sì?”

You nodded, the sudden lump in your throat making it hard to speak. Secondo wrapped his arms a little tighter around you and you closed your eyes while you took deep breaths. He was quiet as you worked on settling yourself. Trying to calm your anxiety and frustrations from the last few days. You felt so lucky to have him there, to have someone that understood what to do when you were feeling out of control and on edge.

You felt so lucky to have his love.

As your body relaxed Secondo started humming, nothing you recognized at first. The warmth of his body and the security of his arms was enough to nearly lull you to sleep. If it hadn't been for him starting to softly sing the chorus of ‘Jigolo Har Megiddo’ you would have fallen asleep right then. You let out a little growl, wriggling in his lap again until you were free and on your feet once more. It was impossible to keep a straight face at the sight of his grin so you spun and made your way towards the bedroom.

“Off to commit murder?”

“I’m going to sleep on it first, if that’s alright. Maybe after a nap I’ll feel less murderous.”

You heard his chair move behind you and the steady sound of his steps coming your way. He reached the bedroom door first, opening it for you and placing a hand on your lower back to usher you inside.

“Perhaps a nap would be a good idea for us both, eh?”

He worked on his suit jacket and tie while you took off what you needed to in order to get comfortable. His shoes quickly joined yours on the floor and soon you both were pressed up against each other on the bed. You rested your face where his neck met his shoulder and took a deep breath of his cologne, the familiar scent grounding you even further.

“Have I ever told you how good you smell?”

“Only once or twice.”

When you pulled away to look at him you could just see the pink tinge under the paint on his cheeks. You smiled as you leaned close to kiss each one, following with a kiss to the tip of his nose and then one on his lips. The paint was slightly bitter on your tongue, something you had grown used to but it still had you making a face.

“We’re going to be covered in your paint when we wake up.”

“I’ve been covered in worse.” You had to hide your face against his neck again, your body shaking with laughter. His breath was warm against your ear when he continued, “So have you.”

“Are we going to nap or do you want to keep talking about substances?”

Secondo smiled against your ear before placing a light kiss there followed by a few across your cheek until he was smiling down at your face. You resisted the urge to say thank you again, mostly because you knew he would say there was no need for it just like he always did. Instead you leaned up to give him a kiss on his lips before dropping back down onto the bed and settling against the pillow.

“Let your mind rest, amore. I’ll be here to help you with whatever battle you need to fight when you wake up.”

You didn’t answer, you couldn’t answer. Your throat was so tight with emotion, with the love you had for this man. All you could do was get as close to him as possible, your arm tight around his waist and his own arms keeping you near. He was humming again and that was enough to lull you to sleep feeling warm, safe and loved.

Up next is a nap for an Anon 💙

~ Naps With Copia series masterpost ~

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

#oakie's writing #secondo x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #reader insert

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yanderes-galore · 3 months

Note

Hey man. What's up. Can I ask you a question? Can you do an Yandere Alphabet for Fluttershy (from MLP:FIM)?

Sure I can! Hope you like it :)

Yandere Alphabet - Fluttershy

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Jealousy, Minor violence mention, Soft yandere, Discord is enabling, You're both ponies obviously, Delusional behavior, Dubious relationship.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Fluttershy, as expected, is very shy and cautious around her crush. Her obsession isn't very intense, in fact it's quiet in nature. Her affection is soft and gentle and you can barely tell something is wrong...

Until she snaps.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Not very messy at all. Fluttershy hates violence and would be the type of pony to faint at the sight of blood. She can barely be assertive... how do you expect her to kill?

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Oh, very caring. Fluttershy can't stand the thought of mocking you! She makes sure you have everything you need in her cottage and is attentive to your needs!

Can't you see she cares for you?

Please don't leave-

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Other than try to keep you in her home, not really.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Very vulnerable and very open with her feelings. She's shy but tries her best to show she loves you. As a result she lets her guard down around you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Upset, frightened, on the verge of tears. In her eyes she's expressing her feelings in a healthy way!

If you fought her... she'd panic and shudder. However... she has a way to counter this.

Discord. Discord can deal with you.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Not a game and hates you trying to leave her.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Your worst experience wouldn't be with her, it would be with Discord.

He doesn't like you making his friend upset so he is definitely the one to help with punishment. Sky's the limit with him.

Although Fluttershy does ask him to not go too rough with you.

She hates seeing you hurt.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

She wants to be a cute couple with you. Her views on her obsession is very innocent. She just thinks you two will be cute together!

She just... needs more confidence... and help... in many ways.

If she's jealous she tries to cope. She rationalizes her feelings as she wants you happy. Although when you look at her you can tell she looks more upset than angry about you speaking to other ponies.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Affectionate, shy, and gentle. Her obsession may be enforced by Discord, yet it seems oddly like a normal relationship. She doesn't mean you any harm.

She just struggles showing her true feelings... which leads to bad advice... causing all of this.

She's upset you're upset, but tries her best to normalize what's going on.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

She most likely met you through a friend and fell for you. After that she found herself following you and trying to be included in your life. She doesn't really see it all as stalking....

She doesn't try to keep you in her home until Discord urges her on. She must really like this pony... why doesn't he help her win your heart? As a result... she traps you in her home.

Not really. I can see Fluttershy snappy at times, but for the most part she's herself.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

She wouldn't punish you, Discord ends up doing it. I don't have anything for mind but when it comes to Discord and his chaos magic... anything can happen.

Fluttershy for the most part wants you to have your freedoms, so not many.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Moderate patience, nothing much of note.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No, she probably could never move on.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Yes and maybe!

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Poor influence for the most part.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Horrible and guilty. She would try so hard to comfort you. She'd hug you, nuzzle into you, she wants you happy! She no doubt blames herself for your sadness.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

She was manipulated into being "yandere".

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Honestly it's not that hard to convince her to let you go. Promise you'll be with her as long as she gives you freedom. She loves you... she'll most likely listen.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

No!

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

She's very attached to you. Not entirely a worship yandere but she thinks you're perfect. She wants to do anything for you.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Long time, months to years?

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

No!

#yandere my little pony #yandere mlp #yandere fluttershy #yandere mlp fim

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blues824 · 10 months

Note

Hello! May I request Azul, Silver, Sebek, Ace, Jamil with a gunsmith s/o? You don't have to do this if you don't want to.

Gender-neutral reader.

Ace Trappola

When he said that he needed your help during Riddle’s overblot, he did not mean that he needed you to bring a gun

But you stated that it was a BB gun and would only leave welts and would distract him and tire him out

Well, after, he went to your dorm and he noticed the guns that were laid out all over the place

You even stated that one of them was for Crowley whenever you snapped, and now he wondered how in Twisted Wonderland you got all these firearms

Turns out, you were a gunsmith, and then all of his questions were answered immediately

The reason why you spent so long at Ramshackle and a lot of deliveries came to your door was because you were purchasing and making guns

Not only that, but you were partnering with Ignihyde to create a gun that could make it easier to stop overblots

Now he’s scared that you have a gun designated for him, but it was only a small Nerf gun because “that’s all he deserved” (you said it lovingly)

Azul Ashengrotto

Well, when you showed up to his office demanding that he let Ace and Deuce and Grim out of their contracts with a gun, you can be assured that you had his undivided attention

He asked how you even managed to obtain a firearm in the first place, as they were not permitted on school grounds

You said that it was a mere BB gun, but it would be enough to leave welts that would mar his skin

Plus, you were a gunsmith, and this mere pistol was the least of his worries because now you had access to magic in Twisted Wonderland

This kind of grabbed his attention, because he had absolutely no idea that Headmaster Crowley would support your craft

Also, he had no idea that you were even interested in that line of work, and how you managed to support yourself made him worried

If you thought that he now keeps an eye out for you, you would be right. Bro is so scared of you now

He’s even caught you doing target practice once and your quickdraw was so quick that he didn’t even see it. One second you were unarmed, the next you were.

Jamil Viper

It was during his overblot where he saw you pull up with a suspicious looking suitcase that seemed pretty heavy

When you opened it, there was a gun that was specifically designed to drain the victim of all of their blot

You had the element of unpredictability and instead of using the big gun, you whipped out two pistols that did the same thing

Thus you also had the element of surprise, and he had no time to fight back against the bullets that some Ignihyde students designed

After the whole incident, Jamil became quite interested in your craft and even asked if he could see Ramshackle’s changes to accommodate your hobby

Imagine his shock upon seeing the many different firearms on the walls, and Grim being scared shitless the entire time

Yeah, you had a small water gun that you would use whenever the feline familiar would act up, and the thought made the Vice Housewarden laugh

This man was fighting the urge to get something similar for Kalim, and he was fighting it with sheer willpower alone

Silver

He accidentally scared you because he was sleeping up against the tree that you were planning to use for target practice and you didn’t expect to see anyone there

So, he was promptly pelted with two BB bullets, and that definitely woke him up if your squeak didn’t already

After a quick trip to the infirmary and many apologies from you, he told you that you could make it up to him by showing him your craft

You took him by the hand to Ramshackle and you had multiple different guns hung on the walls of the run-down dormitory

It was a bit overwhelming, and he saw your workstation and saw that you were currently constructing another firearm

Honestly, he would love to do some target practice with you, so you could teach him how to use one properly

There weren’t too many technical advances within Briar Valley, so I headcanon that the only reason why he knew the basics around a gun was because of an action movie

Silver is a quick learner, but you did have him a tad distracted when you adjusted his stance with your hands

Sebek Zigvolt

He caught you during a competition between yourself and Rook, seeing who could draw the quickest

Let out the loudest shriek as he yelled about how firearms were not permitted at NRC and most certainly not legal without a proper permit

To which you shot him, but you weren’t concerned because it was only a BB bullet and thus would only leave a bruise

You explained to him that you were a gunsmith, and Rook here had some practice with shooting (albeit with a bow and arrow) and thus was curious about his talent with a gun

I mean, Sebek couldn’t be too angry because you were taking safety measures like using dud bullets that wouldn’t leave a hole in your body

Plus, Headmaster Crowley allowed it, so it was legal as long as real bullets weren’t being used

This man is so nervous going into Ramshackle because he just sees guns mounted on the walls and a table with a seemingly deconstructed gun on it

Would be hesitant to even attempt to use one, and when you convince him he actually doesn’t even know how.

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ctheathy · 3 months

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Representative of Power

Secret History Tails x Reader

NSFW Oneshot

Author's note: I can't believe these fics are the only ones I somehow manage to finish, I swear ☠️ I'm gonna have to get my motivation going again.

Potential ⚠️ TWs⚠️ :

Both reader+character are of legal age or aged-up for obvious reasons in this post!

This is a smut fic, read at own risk. dom!Reader+sub!SH Tails • Dry humping • Use of the term ‘mommy’ but gender is not specified otherwise • Climax mentioned • Tails being vocal

Tails was so overwhelmed.

He wanted you to be proud of him. But as soon as you turned around to leave and allow him to rest? he couldn’t fight the urge anymore: He needed you. Tails didn’t even hesitate, he just lunged forward out of the bed and pushed his body up against yours, ramming your back into the nearby wall. He wanted to be closer, so much closer... He wanted to know what it felt like to be used. All the time he couldn’t talk to you, was all the time he wanted to touch you...

You couldn't help but let out a gasp as he practically launched himself at you, pinning and cornering you into a wall. But despite your shock, you managed to keep a grin on your face. You raised an eyebrow, letting out a faint laugh as you spoke out to your fox partner, putting your hands on his chest to create a little bit of distance.

“Ah... Do you need anything?”

At that moment, Tails could smell your hair. It smelled very… attractive, and familiar. The mobian’s legs went weak as he was close to you. And especially when you rubbed your thumbs on hi, Tails’ face flushed up. He felt so weak and so comfortable in your presence… As if he could literally die of happiness in your arms.

“More…”

He whispered softly, as his eyes widened while staring at you. He needed more.

“more?” You repeated in a tone of question, cocking your head to the side with your smirk expanding a little. “i'm gonna need you to elaborate, my sweet, sweet boy” Your voice rang through the room along with a snicker, directly confirming that you were playing dumb and hard to get, but you had still tried to keep it cool nonetheless. Your fingertips began teasing the fur on his chest, pressing through the coat and circling around on his hot flesh.

Tails let out a small, but loud moan of pleasure as his body was being massaged by your sneaky fingers. He was so turned on right now. And it was the most confusing sensation to him. He felt so wrong for wanting you right now, but he couldn’t even try to resist.

“More, mommy...” Tails whispered. He wanted you to know how good he felt, especially when he said “mommy.” Resulting in you letting out a little ‘hmm’ for joy, smirking to yourself as you leaned in a little. You stuck out your tongue, placing your arms around his shoulders in order to keep him in place. It was quiet other than his heavy breaths, fogging up the place as he panted like a dog.

Though without warning, you pressed your bottom onto his with how close they were, teasing him even further. “like this~?” you purred out, as you grinded your hips onto his lower half, knowing he couldn't do a damn thing about it. And as expected, he once again let out a loud moan as you grinded your body on him.

You were playing this game with him, and he didn’t want to waste any opportunity he had. And so... he grabbed your hips and pinned you down against the wall, and began moving his hips slowly and rhythmically against yours, all the while biting away at his bottom lip.

“sweetheart, you're grinding on me...” you silently muttered, your free hand traveling towards the back of his head, caressing through his fur and reaching his scalp with your fingertips. You weren't necessarily uncomfortable by this outcome, rather just... amused. You ignored the moan that left him as you looked up from your pinned position. “You're going through... it ...aren't you? Do you need some help? Or are you just gonna dry hump me?”

you questioned with a hint of sarcasm and another snicker, not minding the fox in rut. A loud moan leaving his mouth as he heard your question with the obvious taunt. Your fingernails traced across his head, teasing him in the process as you gave him the exact same cocky grin.

“I don’t need help…”

He whispered in between his moans, feeling so humiliated. You were calling him out on something he was still confused about. Your words were also so teasing and he wanted to get back at you. His eyes were locked onto yours, along with his teeth gritting. He moved his hips even faster, getting desperate with the overwhelming sparks he felt in his lower region.

Which only made you snort in response, raising an eyebrow. “oh? You're trying to tell me that you don't require some help, hmm~?” you spoke out in a tone of sass and doubt as your fingers traced all over his body, now getting him even more bothered on purpose. From his shoulders, to his back, to his chest... You were all over him. And before he knew it, you gave him one single grinding movement of your own once again, allowing the warmth of your hips to get to him. And knowing a hopeless mess like Tails would do anything for the sensation at this point.

The moment you gave him that grinding movement, Tails let out a loud and long moan of pleasure that felt so good... His eyes widened and he took a deep breath in. He then moved his hips up and down rapidly and roughly against yours, and his grunts were loud. His teeth were gritting tightly, but in between the loud grunts he was making, he managed to call out to you.

“I don’t need help…!”

However, he still was looking up at you with those desperate puppy eyes... And your smirk just grew a little at that as you backed up, shrugging before you put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him backwards. “If you say so~”

You spoke out in a careless manner, before you yanked his hands off of you. “have fun with your itty bitty problem on your own then. Since you don't need help” your words being cold yet sly, which noticeably made him let out a pathetic growl in response. It were his words, not yours. He'd have to choose between his pride or you.

Tails was so turned on right now, that for a moment he started to get angry. But he couldn’t stay angry with you for too long. He was simply… overwhelmed by his love and lust. And he also still wanted to make you proud, so he simply…

Swallows his pride.

He went to you with a more gentle approach as he laid his head on your shoulder, and spoke softly.

“I need you to help me… mommy…”

This was it. Your shit eating grin reappeared on your face but there was also a hint of softness to it. You were practically melting. You leaned in with your head to the point you were right near him. You blew into his ear and he could feel the warmth of your breath on him, along with hearing a small giggle of amusement. Your free hand went over to caress the back of his neck, moving it up and down as you looked at him with prying eyes

“aww...~ good boy~” you spoke in your best and sweetest tone yet

Tails couldn’t even take it anymore. His breathing was fast, his heart was pounding, and his face was bright red with the drool leaking down his lips. And as you spoke those sweet words to his ear, he let out a vocal whine of pleasure, with his body just collapsing on your shoulder.

He was ready to beg for more. He didn’t even care about anything anymore. The fox just wanted you... your simple grip on him making him shiver with ease, as you held onto him in order to keep him balanced. And in order to reward him, you deeply pressed your bottom onto his groin area once again, returning the sensation in one go. The heat of your body temperature from down there making it so much more difficult for him to handle. Making it even worse so when you began rubbing yourself up and down on him.

Tails began to feel a heaviness on his pelvis... And the moment he felt it, he completely lost himself, he couldn’t handle it anymore. All the priority to keep his pride in check going straight out of the window. You could notice him getting wetter and wetter as time went on, indicating that he was close... feeling his fluids going right through your clothing, along with him becoming more whiny... more needy for anything. With him becoming especially vocal by you gently trying to ease him into it.

“You're doing so well, sweetheart...~” you complimented with a grin, before you sped up the pace of grinding your crotch against his. Keeping a steady grip on him and making sure he wouldn't fall onto the floor just like that, allowing him to rest on your body. You guided his head towards your chest as you put your chin onto his head, flattening his bangs. All while continuing to thrust your hips onto him, making him completely soak.

Tails rested his imbalance on your body, his face buried in your cleavage. He couldn’t handle how soft you were, it felt so amazing... And as you started to thrust your hips onto his, his body went weak, and he just started to moan and drool. He wanted this so much… But, he was getting so close to the limit, so he was holding back as much as he could.

But you were not having that... Making him gasp out and whimper as you grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look up at you. You pressed your thumb on his chapped lips, making him let out yet another small moan.

“Shh...~ it's okay, sweetie. Will you release your tension for mommy~?” you murmured, keeping his groin pressed up against you and making him shake in his boots. Making a desperate attempt to make small rubbing motions on your body, but you sure kept him in line. And it was clear your plan was working with how moist he was getting himself, his fur now all sticky and wet...

He was so close, he couldn’t resist it anymore. He pressed his legs together as the warm feeling of you was beginning to make his body reach its peak. And he was so sensitive down there, and the wetness… Oh, God. It was so pleasureable. And just like that… he gave in.

“M…m…” He was so shy… “Mommy...” He whispered in a muffled voice, trying to hide his face in your chest. “good boy...~” you just gave him that last tiny push as you held him by his rump, before grinding him on you instead of the other way around. Pushing him against you deeply as you thrusted back in return, creating an even higher sensation than before. The two were like two connected puzzle pieces, and you knew this was really the last thing he'd need before releasing...

And as soon as you made your move, his eyes widened, and he started moaning really loud. His legs went weak, and he started kicking and trembling a little. He still tried to hold back, but, he couldn’t any longer: all his energy got drained immediately as his eyes rolled back, and he started to melt… like a mess. His fluids began to drip.

And as he did, his whole body went slack. You could literally see him go from mischievous and proud to weak and submissive. His body went all soft, and he melted all over you. The mess of fluids that dripped from the two of you was just… so perfect. He couldn’t even speak. He literally lost all of his words as he laid in shame.

Tails would do anything for you...

You gave a huge grin as he came undone and laid out like it was the end of the world. You took a tiny step back but made sure to still hold onto him so he wouldn't collapse, giving his arms a tiny squeeze. He was an absolute wreck. Tears were pouring down his face, with sweat stains visible, and drool was leaking out of the corners of his mouth. And don't even get me started on the festival down there. He looked like he just stepped out of a pond. And this only made it better for you.

Your little fingers massaged over his arms as you pampered him by giving these little kisses all over his face, seemingly not grossed out by the bodily fluids on his face. You even went out and gave him a smooch right on his mouth, allowing his leaking saliva to enter yours.

Tails was just so… humiliated. But he was so used to you having power over him in these private situations. He felt so much shame, but he felt so much love for you, simultaneously. Because you were the one who made him feel this way. And he knew he loved that. So… he was so glad that you found pleasure in his desperation. His body felt the best it ever did. He wasn’t just dripping, he was flowing. And he was completely yours... but...

You didn't seem to be done.

Right before he even got to say anything, you now pushed him against the wall instead, not allowing him the slightest bit of space. You balanced on one of your feet as you tilted up your other leg, right before pressing your knee right onto him again, almost making him choke and gasp out for air once again. Slowly beginning to give more pressure down there.

His legs immediately folded under him as you pushed your knee against his groin. Tails’ whole body went limp, his eyes rolling slightly. His eyes were locked onto your, and he could feel his mouth watering. Your grip on him increased, and he looked like you were playing with him. This time he wouldn’t be able to resist any of this… And he’d be your little pet again. This was just the beginning.

Your mouth went up to his throat as your teeth nipped him, taking his skin in between your side teeth right before letting it slip again, teasing him. Your weight leaned on him as you got into his personal space, the pressure of your knee making him feel turned on again... making him just as sensitive as before while you pressed him in between yourself and the wall, feeling his previous release drip down from your clothing.

You were so careful and gentle with both his mind and body. Tails being all wet like before, then you simply nibbling on his neck and then the heat of your body making him feel so relaxed, he felt like your own little toy. And he loved the fact that he belonged to you. The amount of pleasure he could feel… was unmatched. His hips began to move ever so slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by you.

The fact that he was trying to grind himself against you again was honestly one of the most pathetic sights you've ever witnessed, but you didn't mind. In fact, you were willing to give him a little gift for being so good before. You stood on your tippy toes and went over towards his ear, your breath audible to his senses making his twitch. You gave him one single grinding movement before stopping and whispering something in his ear..

“Go all out with your rut, my little beast~ I'm all yours~” you purred with a chuckle, giving him permission to what he wanted as you began biting at his left ear. You were still gonna take the lead, but you wanted to see just how much he'd do when given the chance to. How much control he'd lose over himself...

Just the feeling of permission from you was so strong for Tails. The moment you blew your breath against his ear, he couldn’t help but moan a little. And that was when he truly started to turn savage with his movements. His body became aggressive and animalistic. He started to moan and pant and he started to thrust rapidly and rough against you. This wasn’t just about him anymore though… It was about him and you. And you held complete control.

You had never heard the boy so vocal before, but you found amusement in how he was practically behaving like a wild animal for you. The mobian had no filter left anymore. Despite your silence in the duration of the act, the desperation on his face and the inhuman noises he was releasing made it much more enjoyable than you thought it would.

You both knew you were absolutely dominating over him the whole time he was going crazy on you, but the feelings he felt… were completely mutual. But at this point, his need to give you the satisfaction felt so strong that he was just giving into you completely. Tails started to cry out loudly with tears running down his face, and not caring that this made it even more arousing for you. He wanted to do everything for you.

And he was basically a vivid representation for your power over him.

#sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #tails x reader #secret history tails #yandere tails #mashed tails #sh tails #secret history tails x reader #tails smut #tails the fox #miles tails prower #yandere tails x reader

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coochiequeens · 5 months

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A 22 year old woman who was about to graduate with a degree in engineering is now dead because her ex couldn't accept that the relationship was over.

Gino Cecchettin, hugging his daughter Elena, attends a torchlit procession in Vigonovo, near Venice, northern Italy, Sunday, Nov. 19, 2023, after the police found the body of his other daughter Giulia, reportedly with multiple stab wounds and wrapped in plastic on Saturday in a ditch near Venice. Police in Germany over the weekend arrested Filippo Turetta, 21, who had been on the run since Nov. 11, when he was last seen arguing with Giulia Cecchettin. (Lucrezia Granzetti/LaPresse via AP)

The Associated Press

ROME -- Italy has erupted in outrage over the death of a young woman, allegedly at the hands of her possessive ex-boyfriend, with the Italian premier vowing to crack down further on gender-based violence that has claimed the lives of more than 50 women so far this year.

Police in Germany over the weekend arrested Filippo Turetta, who had been on the run since Nov. 11, when he was last seen fighting with 22-year-old Giulia Cecchettin, hitting her in a physical attack that was captured by roadside video cameras.

Cecchettin's body, reportedly with multiple stab wounds, was found wrapped in plastic on Saturday in a ditch near Lake Barcis, in the province of Pordenone north of Venice.

Italian newspapers had been consumed with the search for them both, given multiple reports from friends and family that Turetta had refused to accept Cecchettin's decision to end the relationship. Cecchettin’s sister, Elena, said she had been concerned about Turetta’s possessiveness of her sister but never imagined he could hurt her.

Police in the eastern German city of Halle said Sunday that they had detained a 21-year-old Italian man who was wanted by police in Italy after his car broke down on the A9 highway in the south of the eastern state of Saxony-Anhalt.

Italian news reports said police road cameras had traced Turetta’s black Fiat Punto as he drove on mountain roads through northern Italy, into Austria and then Germany.

Italian state-run radio network RAI said Turetta had agreed to be extradited, and Italian Foreign Minister Antonio Tajani said he was expected back in Italy within days. Venice's chief prosecutor, Bruno Cherchi, suggested Monday it might take longer and urged patience so the investigation can complete its course without external pressure.

The fate of Cecchettin, who had been due to graduate university Thursday with a degree in engineering, had dominated news reports for a week and led to an outpouring of anger when her body was finally found. Even Turetta's parents attended a candlelit vigil for her, and RAI led its main evening news program Sunday with a backdrop made up of portraits of all the women killed in Italy this year.

Premier Giorgia Melon i expressed outrage at Italy’s long history of violence against women by their partners or ex-partners, saying it has appeared to be getting worse recently. She cited data from the Interior Ministry saying of the 102 women killed in Italy this year up to Nov. 12, 53 died at the hands of their partners or former partners.

“Every single woman killed because she is ‘guilty’ of being free is an aberration that cannot be tolerated and that drives me to continue on the path taken to stop this barbarity,” she said in a statement on social media.

A government-backed bill that has already passed the lower Chamber of Deputies and is coming to the Senate later this month would boost preventative measures to protect victims of gender-based violence.

In addition, the Interior Ministry urged all schools to hold a minute of silence on Tuesday in honor of Cecchettin “and all abused women and victims of violence.” An organization of Italian university rectors, meanwhile, vowed to launch initiatives to make students more aware of gender-based violence.

The aim, the group said, was to “promote respect of the person and halt violence against women” through education that fosters a culture of respect and responsibility.

#italy #Femicide #A woman is most in danger after leaving a bad relationship #102 women in Italy were killed in 2023 so far #Rest In Peace Giulia Cecchettin #Men can't accept when relationships are over but women are the emotional ones

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heluvaku · 6 months

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HELUVAKINKTOBER: DAY 6 - FROTTAGE .

A Kunikida Doppo | BSD x Gender-Neutral Reader Fanfic.

warnings ; smut , frottage , reader has female anatomy , thigh riding , soft dom! kunikida , kuni fights demons trying not to fuck , dazai mention (CANNOT escape that guy) , not proofread , probably a bit mid , etc .

author's note ; hey. its been a while since youve seen my face. IM SO LATE I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW im trying to catch uppppp !!!! ive just been so busy guys please excuse me ....

heluvakinktober 2023 m.list .

Kunikida’s a busy man, you know that well.

He always has something he needs to do or errands to run. Even when he’s not, he’s too engaged in the ‘time consuming’ activity of cursing out Dazai. You rarely have time for yourselves, and it’s draining to you — Kunikida, as well. This was all until one day in the late evening in no other place than the Armed Detective Agency.

You felt needier than usual; something that the toys you had at home wouldn’t satiate. Thinking long and hard, you stare at Kunikida, wanting his dick in the same caliber as your thoughts. You sigh, eyes widening in determination when something had come to mind.

You had an idea.

You stood up, smoothing out your dress pants as you walked towards Kunikida’s desk, leaning on the back of his chair. Before you could even start your sweet talking, Kunikida shot you down. Albeit expected, it still disappointed you.

“I’m sorry, Darling, but I’m occupied,” the blonde sighed, pushing up his glasses, “I assure you, once we get home, I’ll give you all the attention in the world. Does that sound good, love?”

“But I want you now, ‘Kida,” you pouted, “Plus, the thing I wanted to do allows you to keep working. It’d be a win-win!”

“Really now? Do tell, then.”

“I wanna ride your thigh.”

Silence. The detective hadn’t said a word in response, staring at you with a rather shocked expression. Seconds felt like hours waiting for his reply, petrifyingly nervous of rejection. The tension broke as Kunikida placed his hand on his desk, jogging himself back inside of the rolling chair he sat in.

“Take off your pants. It’d be a pain trying to clean up your.. ‘mess’ from them.”

You sloppily grind your hips against the rough fabric on your fiance’s left thigh, moaning quick and breathlessly against Kunikida’s ear. Your hips stutter after a specific roll of your body as your heavily stimulated clit dragged across the detective’s lap. Kunikida continued with his work, fighting his own urges of getting himself off. His fingers were more aggressive than usual each time they hit the keyboard, itching to push everything off his desk and fuck you senseless.

Kunikida’s patience was thinning. He didn’t like that. Work had to be done. He didn’t have time to give into his hormonal-teen-boyish fantasies with you at the moment. But your whines sounded so delicious, how could he focus in these conditions? He was bound to lose this tug of war with his dignity; but it didn’t elate him that it happened so quickly. Cries of his name snap him in and out of reality, staring down at your stuttering hips. Kunikida formed a concerned look on his face as you slow yourself down.

“Kuni.. I can’t, it hurts, please..” you cry, a pained sound emitting from you as you jerk your hips on his lap nonstop. Kunikida sighs, rests his hands on your waist, then kisses your cheek.

“You wanted this, dear. I’m not sure what you expected,” He says, slightly scolding you, “it’ll be alright, hun. Let me take care of you, okay?”

@ HELUVAKU 2023 . do not share or repost .

#⁺˚⋆✩₊ heluvaku works .#⛧ heluvakinktober .#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #bsd #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou sd #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo #kunikida smut #kunikida x reader #kunikida x reader smut

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oleander-nin · 6 months

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Horrortober Day 20 - Captive(Yandere Rottmnt Donnie x Reader)

A/N, not important: This was supposed to be the final fic, but I didn't have one for today and this is my attempt to not delete my account or brain out of stress lmao. Me and @astral--horrorshow both had similar ideas, but they're completely independent of each other. We were both talking about them on discord then realized how similar they were, but neither was taken from the other👍. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Kidnapping, blindfold, needles, dehumanization, collaring, restraints, cage

Words: 2464

Summary: Draxum is working on eradicating the human race, but what happens when his son wants to keep one for himself?

The sounds of metal and cries pierce my ears, the blindfold and binds keep me hogtied and blind, not letting me do much else other than listen to sobs around me. My ears twitch at the sound of low footfalls, the clopping similar to that of a deer or horse nearing. I grimace, knowing the Baron was back. The quiet flapping of his gargoyles could barely be heard over the sobbing from the cage next to mine. I try not to let out a scream of my own at the loud bang of hoof against metal, and a skull against concrete. The sobs quiet, and the air goes still. I slowly let out the breath I was holding, my nerves firing off warning bells as I resist the urge to flail around and cry. It wouldn’t do any good either way. Those who fight back fall first.

Another pair of steps joins the Barons while he makes his rounds. I can sense how everyone else stills, all us captives going completely silent to try and hone in on the new visitor. I couldn’t tell how many of us there were. Anywhere from five to a hundred, I wouldn’t know the difference. I rub my face against the rough floor, hoping to loosen the blindfold so I could finally look at my prison. While there were many of us here, people came in and out every day, taking someone away or adding another to the lot. I could always tell when someone was taken. Their screams reverberated around the walls of our keep, cries and pleads not reaching the ears of whoever took them. I assumed it was the Baron, although I was not sure. It’s not like I could see the act either way.

“Take your pick, my son. It’s time you truly learn my work.”

I grimace at the Baron’s low voice, shrinking back into my cage as much as I can while bound. Of course he has a son. Of course he’s going to be just as rotten as his father, doing who knows what with the poor souls who get picked. My stomach rumbles and I chew on my bottom lip, grinding down on the flesh with my teeth. The blood soaking out may be gritty and limited, but it was better than nothing. I just prayed I wouldn’t puke.

The quiet scraping of free feet across the ground alerts me to the younger captors movements, my face moving towards the sound subconsciously so I could hear it better. A beat passes with no more movement, and I tense. Someone had been chosen. Or, hopefully, he would decide this was immoral and demand our freedom. I chuckle quietly to myself. Yeah right, like that would ever happen. A sharp sound in front of me catches my attention and I turn towards my cage, my face furrowing in concentration.

“That one looks interesting.” An unfamiliar voice muses. His voice is sharp, unwavering, and oddly smooth. It alone was enough to make my blood run cold, but what really terrified me was how much closer it sounded than I expected. I could’ve sworn both of them were in the center of the room, but it sounded as if the voice was right in front of my cage. I shrink in on myself, tucking my chin to my collarbone and sitting on my ankles. Two sharp taps sound on the metal bars of my enclosure, a light chuckle sounding from the boy's chest. It wasn’t a friendly chuckle, nor a comforting one. I try to keep my breathing steady, refusing to cry and refusing to beg. I wanted to go down with dignity. I would refuse to bow to these monsters.

“If that’s the one you want to start on, then so it shall be.” The Baron’s deep rumble sounds, a sharp clap bouncing through the room. The sound of flapping fills the room, heading towards my cage and closing in fast. I sit back, trying my best to not shake. I couldn’t even tell if I was.

“Wait.” The younger voice sounds. He taps my cage a couple more times before I feel a scaly hand brush across my neck, taking hold of my collar and yanking me forwards. I yelp, losing my balance at the tug and falling onto my face before him. I struggle to move back to my kneeling position, the ropes keeping me bound threatening to pull my arm out of its socket if I keep trying. I lay down, defeated. I couldn’t get up. A deep heat settles in my cheeks from the shame of being at his mercy, and I can almost hear the smile in his voice at his next words. “I have a different idea for them.”

“Oh?” The Baron asks, his footsteps nearing as well. I try to pull back from the grasp the younger captor had on me, but his grip just shifts from my collar to my chin. “What are you planning then?”

“I want to keep this one. For my own personal studies. I can experiment on that one,” There’s a brief swish of the air when his hand undoubtedly moves to point at another poor soul in the vicinity. “But this one… I want to keep them.”

I hear a sharp breath from the Baron, his tone turning sour. “Donatello,” ah, so that was his name. I try and tug back again to no avail, my eyes widening under the blindfold as I realize he only has three fingers. “You cannot keep a human. They’re pigs. The rot of the world. You must understand that.”

I’m tempted to bite the fingers holding my face when I hear this, indignant anger bubbling in my chest. We weren’t the ones kidnapping people and caging them to experiment on. Sure, there’s a few bad apples in every batch, but you can’t doom the whole of humanity for a small handful’s doing.

The younger voice huffs, his thumb caressing my cheek. It was getting harder to hold back, every instinct screaming at me to pull back and run. “Still, why that may be, I think it would be interesting. Test their limits, experiment in different ways.” I can almost hear the sick smile in his voice. “Plus, it’s always nice to have company.”

“Do you even understand what goes into keeping a human? They’re very needy creatures. Not to mention clingy and violent. You’ll be responsible for its upkeep.” I feel sick the way they're talking about me, the hands of the scaled one still having yet to leave my face. He lifts my chin more and forces me to face him, my body screaming in protest from the position he was contouring me in.

“I do.”

The Baron sighs in defeat at his son’s words. I hear him take a step back, his voice steady as he walks away and starts to audibly mess with another cage. “Then I’ll allow it.”

I hear the screams of what sounds like a small child and my heart breaks, knowing slightly of his fate. While part of me was glad I had escaped it, I still yearned to switch places. Hearing someone so young scream in such ways was unbefitting. It wasn’t right. I feel the hand of the younger captor slip off my face, my own cage opening with a loud squeak. Strong hands hoist me up, fiddling with the ropes around my ankles and wrists. My two halves separate, my ankles freed from my wrists, but still stuck together as were my wrists to each other. I get slung over his shoulder, his muscle mass and metal backpack digging painfully into the soft of my stomach.

I consider trying to fight back, to even finally scream and curse them out, but I don’t. Every step he took sent his shoulder straight into my gut, and I knew it would be useless to try and resist. He seemed solid, and his shoulders reminded me of jagged rocks as they push against my torso. I try to shift myself into a more comfortable position, my body rocking hazardously in his grip. For one awful, awful moment, I’m certain he’s about to drop me, but his hands regain their steadiness as he tightens his grip to a painful degree.

“Move again and I’ll send you off to be experimented on instead.” He hisses, his voice as sharp as always. I settle down more, trying to ignore the painful lab of his arm.

He continues to walk for a while, his steps firm and sure. I wasn’t sure where we were going, nor what my true purpose was. This was out of the blue and completely unexpected, especially from someone who was supposed to be experimenting on me. I hear a door open and let out a small cry as I’m thrown atop a plush bed. I sit up, shaking my head to try and chase the disorientation away. A hand grabs my chin and holds me still, pulling the blindfold off of my eyes. I quickly close my eyes, shrinking back with a pained hiss. I’ve had the blindfold on since I was first kidnapped, covering my eyes and blocking my senses for weeks. I slowly open them, trying to get them to adjust to the new lighting. Once they can open, I glance around, taking in my surroundings as fast as I can.

It was a large room, one larger than I was expecting. There were different mechanical parts and machines strewn across the room, as well as a desk piled high with similar junk. I look in front of me, finally fully seeing my captor. He was only a couple inches taller than me, but his foreboding stature made him intimidating nonetheless. I scan him for a moment, my eyes taking in his green scaly skin and the metal shell upon his back. I lean backwards, wary of his domineering nature. He seemed to command respect, as if it was owed rather than earned. I felt no desire to give it to him.

“Why am I here?” I ask rudely, my tone clipped and eyes narrowed. The turtle doesn’t seem phased by my attitude, if anything, he was delighted.

“I’d suggest you’d hold your tongue. As lovely as your voice is, I do admit I have a short temper.” He walks across the room and picks up a small case, like he had been preparing for this for a while. “And I’m sure you would rather your tongue stay inside your mouth.”

I shift uncomfortably at his words, trying to decide what to do. I watch him carefully as he takes the case and opens it, four needles showing. My eyes widen at the sight as I back up on the bed.

He takes out the first needle and grabs a small vial from a miniature fridge next to him, getting the shot ready. “If you have any allergies, speak up now.”

I barely register his words, my eyes focused solely on the large needle in his hand. “What is that?”

“A couple of vaccines and boosters. It’s come to my attention that most of you have not had proper shots nor care, and while the others don’t matter, you do since you’ll be living here now.” He stalks forward with the syringe in hand as if he did this every tuesday, not a care nor concern on his face. I try to lean back, but he grabs me firmly by the elbow, not allowing me to move away. “I’d suggest you stay still and relax.”

I turn away from him, my heart thundering in my ears. I feel him inject the first into my arm, the sharp sting making me want to jerk away. It feels like hours, but he eventually lets go of my arm and backs away, disposing of the needles and setting the syringes back in their case.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” He starts, turning back to me. “It’s time we get started.”

“Who are you?” I interrupt, my mind hazy from the adrenaline coursing through after the shots he administered. He frowns at my interruption, his face pulled tight.

“I don’t like being interrupted. But, as you’re a human with no manners, I guess I can’t fully fault you. You haven’t learned the rules yet.” The turtle clears his throat, bowing with a dramatic flair. “I am Donatello, your new owner and savior. You, however, may refer to me as ‘Sir’ or ‘My Savior’.”

My nose scrunches up at his introduction, a chill running down my spine. My arm was sore, and my head was blaring warning bells left and right. This guy was seriously messed in the head. Well, of course he was. I was part of a group of humans he and his dad had kidnapped to experiment on.

“So, pet-”

“Not my name.” I interrupt, partly without meaning to but not fully regretting it. I refused to be called ‘pet’.

“Did humans never learn it was rude to interrupt or speak back to their superiors? Or is this just a you thing?” He hisses, clearly displeased. I shrug. My non-answer seems to anger the terrapin even more, his fists clenching at his sides. “As I stated before, I saved you. If it weren’t for me, you’d be cut open on a table with your guts spilled out. And while I would gladly return you to that fate, I felt it would be a waste to use someone like you in that manner-”

“Someone like me?” I interrupt again, tilting my head in confusion.

“Would you cut that out!?” He hisses, his face turning dark in anger. I shrink back, pursing my lips. I didn’t really want to anger him. I didn’t trust him. He continues to glare at me as he straightens his back. “As I was saying, you have something about you that I felt needed to be preserved. Therefore, here you are now. Serving as my pet rather than an experiment. And mind you, I’ll call you whatever I please.”

I glare at him, trying to pop his head open with my mind. Unfortunately, no such thing happened, and he continued to drone on.

“So, pet, I have something for you.”

He turns around and grabs something off his desk. I recognize it immediately, the bright collar jingling the bell as he moves closer. I try to lean back but he quickly hooks the offending item around my neck, his eyes and markings glowing for a moment as he holds the two pieces together. I rub at it with my chin, scowling. “There you are pet. Now you’ll never forget your place.”

It takes everything in me not to spit on him.

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eepyuii · 2 months

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frostbite — pt. 12

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; some self loathing talk, ending that you guys are gonna hate me for LMFAO

notes ; listen guys. i KNOW it’s been a minute, life’s just been really hectic lately- so many ups and downs and i couldn’t come up with what this chapter could be until i remembered- the inazuma trip!

and so that is what this is, the inazuma trip from childe’s POV and NOTHING ELSE happens. i promise :)

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if a mere gaze could incinerate, the letter before you would’ve been reduced to ashes by now.

it sits as pathetically unmoving as paper can get on the table before you— yet you can’t even bear to pick it up into your hands again, what a coward. it’s not even a bad letter either, very far from the bone-chilling mandates you receive from the doctor or directly from zapolyarny palace.

no, it’s an invitation. from ajax.

a simple invitation to a simple visit to inazuma to simply explore the scenery he had so passionately raved about to you before. your stay in sumeru had unintentionally prolonged itself, for reasons that if someone asked you out loud right now, you’d say you just ‘didn’t notice the days going by’. but any dimwit, if there is even such a thing inside sumeru city, would’ve been able to tell that you’re just cowering away from seeing ajax again.

since all of the matters had been resolved— crisis averted, dottore gone, kunikuzushi restored to his sharp-tongued self, you’d expected yourself to feel better. feel happier.

but you don’t.

because the guilt is still there, it still thrashes against your chest and scratches your throat dry, yelling out in a raucous, grating voice that you’re a terrible terrible person.

a terrible person who doesn’t deserve to go to inazuma. who doesn’t deserve to see ajax.

you still think of collei. you’ve been terrified to leave your quarters during the day, lest you bump into her on the streets of the city. you hope she’s feeling better, since all of eleazar was cured. gods, why do you even care this much? you’ve never even met the girl yet you’re desperate for her to forgive you, when you haven’t even done anything to her directly. you want to be worthy of her forgiveness so badly but.. you also think you’re not deserving of it, or any forgiveness at all. what is wrong with you?

“what is wrong with you?”

what.

“h-huh?”

you’re brought back to reality by kunikuzushi’s voice, who looms over the table you sit at, periodically moving his judgemental gaze towards the letter then back to you.

“the last ship for inazuma leaves in an hour, y’know. and you haven’t even started packing! you humans slack so much it baffles me how anything gets done ever.”

you fidget with your fingers, averting your gaze elsewhere as to avoid the very predictable death glare kunikuzushi is about to give at what you say next.

“i’m not going.”

thank the archons that his puppet body doesn’t have built-in eye lasers, or else you’d be barbecue by now.

“what do you mean you’re not going?”

“i changed my mind, i’m not going.” you shrug simply.

“as if,” he scoffs. “seeing that imbecile again is all you’ve talked about for days! i can still hear your stupid little melancholic sigh inside my head from how much you do so much as think about it.”

you remain silent, staring down at your own fingertips and fighting the urge to pick your nails.

“now suck up your idiocy for a second and answer me truthfully— why are you not going?”

it’s safe to say that one second you opened your mouth to answer and the next you were practically beaten into the ship, but not before you were almost deafened at kunikuzushi’s yells for you to pack up faster. you don’t think you’ve ever witnessed someone be so ragingly doting, though you believe he was partially motivated by how irkingly sulky you’ve been lately.

at least you can rest knowing nahida won’t let him rest.

—

“i’m sure they’ll arrive today, tartaglia!”

he’s sure yoimiya is right, yet his leg keeps bouncing impatiently. surely you’d accept his invitation, or at least show sign of life by sending a rejection letter— he could live with the sting of it as long as you were alive and safe in sumeru.

…no, that might not be enough. maybe his letter never arrived to you, maybe he put in the wrong address, maybe the letter did arrive but you weren’t there to receive it because you were unsafe. maybe he should just go to sumeru himself and check in on you. childe’s leg starts bouncing faster. he hates it, this giddy feeling but in a bad way. it’s not the kind of giddy he feels when he’s about to engage in combat or.. when he sees you— it feels terrible, like his heart is beating incorrectly in his chest.

but then he feels erratic taps against his shoulder and he looks over to see yoimiya hopping excited as her other hand points toward the port, where a ship is arriving. yoimiya doesn’t know what you look like, so you might not be in that ship at all— he prepares before getting his hopes up. the two of them step closer towards the port and childe scans the passengers leaving the ship with utmost attention, like he’s never focused so hard in his life. amongst the crowd, the top of someone’s head who looks like you is visible and just from that, his heart stutters. it still beats incorrectly. finally, as though a blessing from the tsaritsa herself, it’s you.

and his heart starts beating right. erratically, but right.

his legs take him to you before can even think of it. there’s a sense of deja vu from your reunion in liyue, except now there’s assuredly nothing that’ll keep you away from each other, for the time being at least. the one thing that’s different this time is that neither of you say anything upon seeing each other, you just both wordlessly wrap yourselves in a tight, breathless hug.

neither of you pull away for a while either, until childe moves 3 inches or so back to keep you at arms length. he exhales heartily, as if he only got to breathe for the first time just now, and takes in all of your features now that he can. he notices that your eye bags seem darker, more prominent— have you not been getting enough sleep?

he’s about to ask you that very question when your eyes flicker towards something, or someone, behind him with a hint of wary surprise in your eyes and he remembers that yoimiya is here and probably shaking with excitement to meet you— he’s spoken a lot about you, but we’ve already gone over extensively just how much he does that.

“a-ah, where are my manners— y/n, this is yoimiya, owner of naganohara fireworks and friend i’ve made alon-“

a shrill squeak comes out from behind behind childe and within the blink of an eye, he’s shoved away by yoimiya, who takes you into her own bone crushing hug.

“oh, y/n, it’s so so so nice to finally meet you!”

the blonde releases you from the hug, her hands fly to hold yours as she hops up and down with joy only comparable to a prancing bunny. whatever standoffishness you felt before melts and you return yoimiya’s excitement with a big grin, one that makes childe’s chest swell more than he thought previously possible.

though much to his dismay, you’re viciously dragged around by a hyperactive firework maker around inazuma city, she shows you all the best shops and spots within the city (especially naganohara fireworks), while childe only hurries to keep up with you two. eventually, you’re released from yoimiya’s ecstatic grasp, as she mentions having to help her father with dinner— the old man won’t even hear the pot boiling on his own, she says.

the two of you end up at a viewpoint in the city, leaning against a railing, shoulders only a breath apart from each other. sunset arrives before you even notice, the caramel rays shining against the unusual violet hues nature of inazuma create a sweet ambience— one neither childe nor you dare to interrupt.

it’s almost painfully awkward, the silence. you would’ve expected to be chatting till the sun rose again about your respective escapades but nothing, perhaps you two have so much to talk about you don’t even know where to start. and so neither of you do.

childe finally decides to take the fall and fills the increasingly cooling air of the evening with a clear of his throat.

“so,” he swallows hard. “have you been well?”

you take a split second to answer, he notices that your fingers fidget as well.

“yeah, just fine.” you nod before nudging him playfully. “what about you? surviving the island weather?”

he frowns— you’re not telling the truth. firstly, changing the subject so fast before he even gets to ask about your… mission in sumeru, whatever it is he can’t seem to remember it. secondly, the way you fidget is strangely familiar to him. it takes a moment but childe recalls, it’s precisely one of your old tells.

when the two of you were young, sometimes your father would bring back board games from his job in the big city— some were guessing games, some were training cards, some murder mysteries and others games all about bluffing. and you were terrible at bluffing, eyes always scattering about, fingers itching against each other, tongue poking against your cheek. old habits die hard, he supposes.

he wishes he could feel good about reminiscing over those moments but really, right now they only serve to prove that you were lying about doing well— he doesn’t like that.

childe opts not to sour the moment, though. it’s not even your first night in inazuma yet.

“i’ve been faring. but uh.. remind me again as i seem to have forgotten,” he chuckles sheepishly. “what exactly was your mission in sumeru?”

your eyes scatter.

“just an on-field investigation about this strange disease that was born in sumeru, eleazar. unfortunately, it’s still all pretty confidential— so no snooping even for someone like you, mr. harbinger.”

“yeesh, sounds serious. i’ll do my best to make sure you unwind from all that uptight working for now, though. i’ve got the next two days planned with all sorts activities and places to show you around in inazuma.”

your shoulders seem to intense slightly at the idea of actually vacationing and childe feels some relief in his chest. he grins.

“but for now— i’d like to take you to try some inazuman cuisine and then get some rest. i’ll show you around the food district but i heavily suggest these… little stuffed balls of rice they sell at this kiosk, i believe they’re called ‘onigiri’.”

“mm, sounds tasty.”

—

“no, i’m telling you i saw it go over here!”

it’s somehow nostalgic, hopping around chinju forest and chasing bake-danukis around like unburdened children. childe swears he sees the esper of your younger self following after you as you hop from rock to rock over the river, giggling at the splashes of water that lick at your ankles. he hears the jingle of the monster yōkai as it tries to taunt him, but he’s long since forfeited his own goose chase to bask in the warm delight of watching you.

it’s like his limbs have shut down, locked in place for the sake of gluing his eyes to your grinning figure who runs up and down after the elusive bake-danuki without another care in the world. you know that the chase is aimless, that the yōkai has no purpose or finality other than to taunt you— but you don’t care, you’ve abandoned the rationality you usually cling to like the air in your lungs just to have stupid fun for once.

and it’s because childe took you here. the pride that fills him due to the fact is so immense that he feels as though he could fell an army of mitachurls without even using his vision.

the image of your state yesterday is still burned into his retinas, how utterly exhausted you looked, not to mention that you lied about being well. it’s the most basic state of being, just being ‘fine’, yet even that wasn’t your truth. the worst of it all is that he can’t even figure out why, what could’ve happened in sumeru that left you like that. it all terrifies him.

“…ax?”

huh?

oh. you’re calling out to him. childe feels his entire being perk up at that and he’s fully at attention within a heartbeat.

“ajaax? you okay?”

you’re standing two rocks away from the bake-danuki over the river current, but you no longer care for it. instead, you look over to childe and wave to catch his eye, worried frown invading your features.

childe nods rapidly. “peachy! i was just, ah— thinking up a strategy to catch that slippery bake-danuki!”

he monitors you closely for the rest of the day, making sure everything goes well as to not make you frown again. he takes you up to the grand narukami shrine, where your eyes fill with light as you gaze up in wonder at the huge cherry blossom tree, a pink petal gracefully lands on your head but it compliments you so splendidly that childe doesn’t have the heart to tell you about it.

he’s only not completely enamored by how the peaceful scenery frames you so majestically because he feels an itch at the back of his neck, turning around to see the guuji of the shrine throwing him a both amused and judgemental stare. she gives him the creeps.

the next day, childe takes you to watatsumi island. it seems you’re once again possessed by a childlike spirit, as you scurry about every inch of the island to take in all of the almost magical details of it. you tell him it reminds you of the fairytales you used to read and the sheer glee in your demeanor almost makes him tear up. at some point, the two of you even go swimming in one of the beaches that frame the cascading island and it’s a sight childe’s dreams only hope to imitate, to see you canonballing into the warm seawater with pure joy— it’s completely incomprehensible to the frigid tundras of snezhnaya that you’re both used to.

to finish it off, you’re back in inazuma city to dine in a traditional inazuman restaurant and you’re both almost bursting from how much you’ve eaten by the end of it. you’re waiting patiently for a waiter to come by your table and give you the check for the food with sleepy eyes— the kind of sleepy that only hits you after a hearty meal.

when it arrives, both of you reach out for the check simultaneously.

“come on, please let me at least pay for the food this time? you already paid for our last two dinners.” you plea.

“nonsense! i invited you to inazuma to give you a tour, you’re a practically guest here-“

“not like you’re a local either… just this once, please-”

“i brought so much excess mora, it’s been weighing down on my backpack. just let me empty it a little more with this check and i promise you i’ll let you pay for our next-“

“but i’ll feel terrible. you’ve been doing everything for me these past two days, it’s the bare minimum for me to-“

“y/n. i insist.”

your poor waiter.

“fine.” you huff begrudgingly, turning to look down at your empty plate with a defeated frown. childe immediately feels like the worst person in the world.

the walk back to your hotel is quiet, eerily so. it’s almost ironically parallel to your first night here, you even pass by the same viewpoint as it’s on the way to your destination— you choose to take a wordless detour to the same railing.

childe is a step behind when he joins you, the first thing he notices is how hard you’re gripping onto the railing, knuckles turning white. the second things how tightly you press your lips to suppress their trembling. and the third thing is the wet glimmer that lines your bottom eyelids. he wishes the earth would give way and swallow him whole.

“y/n… i-“

“w-why are you doing a-all of this?” the breaking in your voice is the worst sound childe has ever heard in his life.

“w-what do you mean? have i done something to upset you?”

you shake your head.

“why are you d-doing all of this for m-me? taking me to beautiful p-places… paying for all my f-food— what did i even do to d-deserve this from y-you?”

childe scoffs incredulously. why would you even be worried about that?

“because you’re my best friend, y/n. i care about you and i wanted to show you somewhere new, somewhere i loved. people simply do that for each other someti-“

“t-that’s the thing, though, i’m not just people! i’m a t-terrible person who works for an even worse person, a fucking m-monster that i let be a monster! people are sickly and d-dying because of him and i j-just let him do it! i don’t d-deserve sceneries or g-good food for free…”

you yell, tears running freely and ceaselessly down your cheeks. childe is almost angry at the complete nonsense you’re spewing, but he scatters his brain for a gentler way to calm you down. then, he remembers a previous tactic of his— he places both of his gloved hands at either side of your face.

successfully, you immediately shut up, save for the erratic breaths that leave you. you’re staring up at him with almost enraged confusion, but not at him, rather at yourself— you truly believe what you’re saying to the point where you’d lose sleep over it, it shatters childe’s heart into a million pieces.

“y/n. please listen to me very carefully. you are not a terrible person, in fact, you’re one of the best people i have ever met-“

“but i c-could’ve done-“ you interrupt and childe immediately squishes your cheeks inward as to press your lips shut.

“shush. you are the most intelligent, caring, attentive, patient person i have ever had the privilege of meeting, y/n. dottore is a psychopath, that’s no doubt, but you couldn’t have done anything to stop him— he’s got power even i couldn’t begin to gauge and… unfortunately he uses them for evil deeds. but you, you use yours for good and for that, you’re infinitely and eternally better than him.”

you’ve stopped crying at this point.

“you’ve only ever used your capabilities to help people— help me, the traveler, all of the new cadets who get stupid injuries in zapolyarny palace.” he chuckles. “and you care so much and so deeply. you took such good care of teucer when he was in liyue, you even chose to go against me, betray our mission, for the chance to help the traveler and save the people of the harbor, you nursed me back to heal when i was at my weakest.

i believe that in this world, the lines between good and bad are blurry— many dance around in its fog, heh, including myself. but you, y/n? i think you’re as good as it gets.”

there’s no reason for childe to still be holding your face in his hands, really, but at this point it seems like the entire rest of the world has disappeared for him.

“this trip has only been the minimum of the thanks i owe you, hell, i’d pay for all of the meals in your life if that even repaid half of what you’ve done for others.”

you chuckle at that.

“but… i-i also wanted to treat you to this because i…”

oh god, why did he start that sentence, he wasn’t ready to admit that just yet. childe’s heart hammers against his chest, bound to break out at any moment, and his throat becomes dry almost immediately. his hands are so clammy that he desperately wants to pull them away from you, unfortunately his limbs betray him and stay right where they are. childe thinks he feels a heartbeat at his fingertips, like he can feel it from the pulse in your neck, but his fingers shake too much to discern.

years in the battlefield, a harbinger title over his head, falling into the abyss and childe has never felt as terrified as he does now— he feels as though he can’t breathe.

the entire world, time and space, halt at the tip of his tongue, where it’s next words will forever change your relationship. but then again, childe did say he could live with rejection so long as you were safe and sound…

…couldn’t he?

“…b-because i mean to go to fontaine soon.”

i saw this tweet in the midst of finishing this chapter and i was like “oh my fucking god. them.” LMFAO

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

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vanrouchu · 6 months

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sparkling starlight

Inside an abandoned theatre, you find yourself drowning in a sea of stars guided by a shooting star.

— Hamel x Reader (Gender Neutral)

It was silent. Far too silent for a room that was supposed to be full of music followed by an applause so loud that it's deafening. You were glued to your seat in the empty theater, watching nothingness take its place on the stage. The rundown theater used to be a place filled with life, hopes, and dreams from performers and the audience alike.

Now it was a desolate place devoid of life.

It was a strange sight to anyone else who might see. A single person sitting on a worn out chair in a theater that looked like it's about to break down at any given moment—what kind of person would willingly stay there and stare at an empty stage? Soon, there was a sound of footsteps approaching from behind but you didn't turn your head to look back. The sound of the accessories of their clothes hitting the floor was comforting despite the way your heartbeat quickened ever so slightly.

"What are you doing in such a lonely place?" Her voice was close. Hamel took the seat next to you, placing her hand over yours as her gaze followed yours. For a moment, you wanted to know what came across her mind when she saw the empty stage. You wanted to know if she wanted to dance for the dreams that crumbled into stardust. She was selfless like that—she gave too much and got little in return.

"I was just thinking. This used to be a popular theater where performers would fight to get a chance to perform in… It's strange to see it so empty." You sighed but the way Hamel started caressing the back of your hand with her thumb distracted you as you stumbled over your next words. "I guess– I'm not used to it."

"... Did you come here often?"

"Often might be an understatement. I came here every chance I got."

Hamel blinked curiously, tilting her head to the side. "I wasn't aware you were a big fan of theater performances."

You couldn't help but chuckle. What she said wasn't exactly right but you couldn't deny it either, so you're left with the choice to answer with an explanation. "I wouldn't say I'm a fan of all performances… I only came to see one person."

Hamel hummed, urging you to continue.

"It was the first performance I've ever seen in this very theater. I was enchanted the moment she started dancing." You held your breath, not daring to look at Hamel's expression but you can only assume she figured something out with the way her finger twitched against your hand.

"Ever since that performance, I came to this theater again and again in hopes of seeing her again." You finally let out a heavy sigh, "in the process, I saw a lot more others perform. I thought they were amazing but they weren't what I was looking for."

"Like a shooting star, she appeared briefly in my sky and left me wishing in silence."

That was when Hamel stood up from her seat. She wasn't smiling, but she wasn't frowning either; it was a blank stare followed by a voice filled with expectations. It was as if she was waiting for something—a correct answer to her question.

"Did you manage to meet her again?" She asked.

You couldn't help but stare at her from your seat, trying to search for answers in the familiar pink of her eyes. She let go of your hand and you couldn't help but notice how much colder it's gotten—how lonely it suddenly felt.

"I did. After many years, I finally got the chance to see her in this very theater again." You stood up and took her hands in yours, firmly this time. Her face slowly turned soft, the corner of her lips tugging into a small smile as she pulled her hands away from your grasp just to hold your face. It was warm—your face was warm and you didn't know if it was because of her hands or the heat that crept up your neck.

Her gaze was so gentle; you couldn't deny the love it held.

"Did I keep you waiting?"

"... I don't mind." You turned your head, placing a kiss on the palm of her hand. "I would have kept chasing after you."

"You don't have to anymore. You caught this shooting star among countless others. I hope the brilliance that captivated you does not disappear."

"Even now, you're shining so brightly in such a rundown place."

"... It's because I'm with you." It felt warmer. "Won't you dance with me on this stage?"

She asked but she was already dragging you to the stage without waiting for an answer. The floorboards were old and creaked with every step you and Hamel took but it hardly mattered in that moment.

Stuck in your own little world, she brought the stars with her and decorated the stage with its brilliance one last time as a reprise of the dance that enchanted you many years ago.

#my writing #path to nowhere #ptn #ptn x reader #hamel #ptn hamel #path to nowhere hamel #hamel x reader #ptn hamel x reader #on god a huge chunk of this was because of alkaid's route in lovebrush that got shoved to hamel because i wanted to kiss her #she's a shooting star you kept chasing .... T___T #you started shining so brightly that before i knew it i started chasing after you #i love u hammy #happy anniversary ptn haha

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m00nc4kes · 5 months

Text

A Chance. (pacific rim! au)

hobie brown x gn!reader

word count: 2k

summary: Hellion Riser. That's the jaeger you wanted to pilot. The only problem? The remaining pilot isn't accepting requests for a co-pilot at the moment nor... ever.

warnings: arguing, swearing, sparring, hopefully hobie isn't too ooc (his accent is a nightmare for me, bear with me pls)

notes: the reader doesn't have a specified gender (at least I tried to make sure they didn't, lemme know if I specified at some point); my readers are always black coded even if it's never mentioned, but anyone can read it! uhhhh I took some creative liberties so you don't have to know anything about pacific rim lololol

[part 1] (ur here :p) [part 2]

"And just what makes you think you'd be able to handle her, hm?"

You startled from your place on the metal bridge that overlooked your potential jaeger, Hellion Riser. And to your luck, the one thing stopping you from ever piloting her was walking up behind you.

You flicked your gaze over your shoulder, simply acknowledging his presence, before looking back at the jaeger. You watched as people tinkered with her, the buzz of drills and shrills of metal being dug into filled your ears.

Hobie stepped up beside you and mirrored your position on the railing. You knew he was still waiting for an answer, but you didn't think you could give him one without getting upset all over again. Instead, you asked your own question.

"Why haven't you found a co-pilot yet?"

"Why ask questions you know the answer to?"

This asshole. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "Maybe you'd know the answer if you let me in your head." You tapped your forehead, referencing the drift that would settle everything once and for all. He just looked at you with those warm amber eyes of his. They told you nothing about how he felt, instead they blinked lazily at you.

He stood up straight to stretch before turning around and leaning his back against the railing, facing away from the jaeger. He shrugged. "Maybe I don' need to kno' that bad."

You huffed and shook your head. "What's the point of being a pilot for her if you don't actually want to pilot, Hobie?"

"To make sure no one else pilots her."

You clenched your fists. The blood rushed to your ears and you tried to curb your rising frustration with deep breaths. You didn't need to do this again. Not with him. But you couldn't help but— "How fucking selfish is that?"

And, oh, you could see his eyes switch from being nonchalant to a sudden sharp fury. "Selfish?" You'd struck a nerve. "What's fuckin' selfish about makin' sure no one else dies piloting that bloody thing?" His brows were furrowed as he crowded into your space. Luckily for him, you had no problem matching his energy.

"Everything," you spat. "Everything about it is fucking selfish! The entire point of those damn jaegers is to risk our life to make sure that an innocent one isn't taken instead."

That made him turn away from you with a scoff. You grabbed his arm to make him face you again, but he stubbornly kept his face turned away from you.

"If it weren't for those death traps, I wouldn't be in front of you, pissing you the fuck off and pushing your buttons. I'd be dead like every other innocent person who never had a chance against the kaijus! Just because you're scared, doesn't mean that you should stop someone else from being saved."

He latched onto your wrist and you expected him to yank you off of him, but instead he gently removed your grip. Then, with a somber expression on his face, he asked, "You've never drifted with someone before, have you?"

You leveled your gaze at him. “No. Not yet, anyway.”

He appraised you for a moment before flicking his eyes over toward Hellion. “They’ll tell you that your minds become one and you’ll fight in sync and all tha’ good stuff. But,” he hesitated, “they won’t tell you what it’s like being completely connected to your co-pilot. In an instant, you’ll kno’ them inside and out. You’ll kno’ wha’ makes ‘em tick and wha’ makes ‘em break. You’ll be in their head at every moment, you’ll feel ‘em even when ya not in the jaeger.

“I was still connected to Karl when he was torn outta the jaeger. Felt everything he felt. How scared he was. How much pain he was in. All of it. Then there was nothin’. Complete and utter silence.”

He reached forward and tapped your temple. His gaze steeled you where you stood.

“And I don’t think you’re ready for allat.”

You waved his hand away. “We don’t know that.”

He huffed as if he were talking to a small petulant child. “Why’re you so adamant on pilotin’ with me? There’re plenty of single pilots lookin’ for somebody.”

Now wasn’t that an amazing question? Frankly, it was a question you really didn’t want to answer. At least, not in all honesty. “For one, Hellion was the one who saved my life when I was younger and I’ve always wanted to pilot her. For two, I think we’d fight pretty well together.”

“Is that so?” Hobie’s tone was dubious. You didn’t appreciate it.

“Yes, that’s so. Stop lookin’ at me like that.”

A small grin danced along his lips. “Not lookin’ at you in any typa way.”

You made an irritated noise in your throat. “I’m serious about what I said before, Hobie.”

He sighed. “I kno’ you were. So was I.”

There was so much you wanted to say in the moment, hoping you’d be able to change his mind, but you rested your case. There was no point in arguing with a brick wall. You tilted your head to look at Hobie, really look at him. “The trials are tomorrow. I’ll be there.” You stepped away. “If you really don’t want to be there, I won’t understand in the way you want, but I’ll leave it be. Okay?”

The two of you stared at each other for a quiet moment before you finally turned and walked away.

That night, you laid in your bunker and wondered if you were truly ready for the vulnerability that came with drifting. Especially with someone like Hobie. The man had set records with his drift partner— his best friend. Their bond wasn’t something that could ever be competed with. Who were you? Some random jaeger technician that dreamed of being a pilot.

You shook the insecurity from your mind. This meant too much to you. This wasn’t just for you. It was for your cousin. For Riri.

The thought of her made you flip onto your side and shut your eyes. Whether or not you cried would be between you and your wet pillow.

The trials were always an exciting event since it didn’t happen very often. People from all over the base would gather to watch the next potential jaeger partners spar it out.

It was a simple concept. First person to four hits won. Although the main goal was to win, the trainer would be watching for compatibility.

You maneuvered your way through the tightly packed hallway. People chatted excitedly to each other, ready to witness whatever was to come. You did your best to ignore them until something caught your attention.

“I wonder if Hobie’s gonna show up—”

“You already know he’s not!”

You felt your lips turn up and you pushed yourself into the sparring room with a little more force than necessary.

It didn’t take long for everyone to get situated around the mat. The room buzzed with anticipation as you scanned the area for Hobie. When you didn’t find him, you did your best to curb your disappointment.

The single pilots all wore a white tank top with a pair of sweats and stood in a row along the side of the mat. Some of them tapped their staff nervously or swung it around to get used to its weight.

The trainer, Jess, stood to her full height. She tapped her clipboard and said, “First up, Miles Morales. Let the trials begin.”

The rounds that followed were impressive to say the least. The single pilots won some and lost some while Jess took notes. Maybe you would’ve been more excited about it if your dream of piloting the Hellion hadn’t been crushed so quickly.

The last competitor’s back landed on the mat with a solid thud and Gwen stood to her full height. Jess gave her a nod before acknowledging the crowd.

“Before I officially conclude the trials, would anyone else like to try their luck?”

A silence fell over the audience and you half considered standing up for the hell of it, however, the sound of footsteps coming from the hallway stole everyone’s attention.

Suddenly, a head full of wicks appeared around the corner and set your heart ablaze. Your pulse skyrocketed as the crowd fell into a loud commotion.

Hobie, on the other hand, looked absolutely bothered that he was present in the first place. He wore a black tank top that stopped right above his belly button and a pair of dark sweats. He locked eyes with Jess who raised her eyebrows at him.

“Oi, mind if I borrow one of them sticks?”

Gwen stepped off of the mat. “Hey, use mine.” She tossed it to him and he caught it with an outstretched hand.

“Thanks, Gwendy.” He gave her a grin before scanning the crowd. “Now, I’m fightin’ one person and one person only. If that’s alright with ya, Jess.”

“I have no objections to it.”

Suddenly, his staff was being pointed in your direction. “I got a score to settle with ya.”

Being put on the spot did a number of things to you, most importantly, however, it put you on autopilot. You wasted no time rising to your feet and marching over to the mat. Pavitr, the sweetheart, handed you a staff.

Hobie scrutinized you as you slid off your shoes and took a deep breath. Then, he gave you a knowing look. “Don’t think I’m doin’ this to be nice. Just provin’ a point.”

The grin that spread across your face was determined. “I’ll be provin’ a point too, m’kay?”

He hummed and swung his staff up to get into position. “I won’t be goin’ easy on you.”

“Neither will I.”

Jess’s voice cut through your banter. “You may begin.”

There were several things you had noted as you watched Hobie pilot Hellion Riser. Appearance-wise, he was tall and lanky, but he held strength in his defined arms and legs. On the other hand, he was reckless, yet every move he made was tactical in the long run.

Your back hit the mat before you could even blink. Hobie’s staff hovered over your face, deliberately making a point.

“One-zero,” he stated and let you get back up.

Another thing you had noted was that he loved to banter as he fought. Though, this match had none of it. It was as if he was determined to show that you two were incompatible— that he wouldn’t allow someone to be compatible enough to be in his head again.

But at the same time, he would’ve proved that point by not showing up in the first place.

You stopped your staff mere inches from the side of his face.

“One-one,” you said with a smirk, then stepped back.

And that’s how the back and forth went. Your staffs would connect with each other with loud clicks and clacks until the other misstepped. That’s how it went until sweat dripped down your bodies and you were getting sick of the other meeting your strikes.

Then, you were tied.

Three to three.

Your breaths were heavy as you waited for the other to make a move. You decided to head in first with a feint to his ribs, but he saw it coming and you barely had time to dodge his staff. It became a frantic tango with the both of you adapting to each other’s next move.

Though, you knew it wouldn’t last long. Hobie was adaptable and could fall into a routine in how he fought. However, along with his recklessness, he thrived off of unpredictability.

Which was how you ended up being flipped over his shoulder and back on your back.

His staff hovered over your face once more. He panted and wiped his forehead. “Four-three. I win.”

There were cheers from the crowd, but you tuned them out as your attention turned toward Jess and the expression she wore on her face.

In all your days at the base, you could count on one hand the amount of times you had seen the trainer wholeheartedly smile from pride.

And this had been the first.

Hobie stuck out his hand to help you up and you took it. After he pulled you up, you motioned for him to turn around and he did. You saw him stiffen at the sight of Jess’s grin. Even though the results wouldn’t be posted until later on, somehow you already knew.

The match had only proved your point.

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psssttt, lemme know if yall want another part

I love this little idea hehehehe

#hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #atsv #pacific rim au #across the spiderverse #spider punk #writing

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