#so if you think it doesn’t apply to you

[5sospenguinqueen]

Tantrums - Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: After 10 years together, Lewis keeps pushing back the date on when “forever” can start. Realising that forever applies to her job and not their relationship, she makes it clear that she’s had enough. 

Warnings: slight age gap, reader is 32. angst, heavy on the angst. 

Requested: @madelynn-sienna (sorry it took so long. i didn’t think i was gonna do it ngl to you because i don’t really write for lewis)

F1 Masterlist

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yn_ln just posted

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yn_ln when he feels bad that he’s on the other side of the world for your birthday 

4,444 comments

lewishamilton happy birthday, love. i’m so sorry i’m in australia and not with you but i promise i will make it up to you when i’m home. roscoe promised me he’d spend the day spoiling you 

→ roscoelovescoco yes i’s did’s 

user1 oh to be loved the way yn is loved by lewis 

user2 no one makes me feel as single as lewis and yn do 

carmenmmundt @/georgerussell63 take notes

→ yn_ln you tell him, hun

→ georgerussell63 i buy you flowers all the time! 

f1 we’re sorry that a race fell on your birthday. we’ll ask the fia to fix the calendar next year so this doesn’t happen again

mercedesamgf1 we’d give him back if we could. happy birthday, yn

georgerussell63 hang on a second. you’ve not left us yet. that’s not the right car

→ charles_leclerc that’s the perfect car 

→ yn_ln i didn’t buy the car. i just jumped behind the wheel

user3 not me hoping she’d be getting a ring for her birthday 

→ user4 we’ve been waiting for this for the past 8 birthdays

→ user5 it’s been 10 years. we were expecting two rings and a few kids by now

→ user6 i mean, he just bought her a sports car. not very kid friendly 

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lewishamilton just posted

liked by francolapinto, sebastianvettel and others 

lewishamilton happy 10 years to the love of my life. every moment with you is an adventure i never want to end

9,448 comments

yn_ln forever with you ❤️ mainly because i can’t be bothered to train some new guy to photos that good of me

mercedesamgf1 can’t believe it’s been 10 years already. it feels like only yesterday yn was making her paddock debut. here’s to another 10 

→ user7 not mercedes commenting like they’re a part of this relationship 

→ user8 well he’s been with yn almost as long as he’s been with mercedes so they practically are at this point 

user9 my favourite f1 couple

user10 i love their rich money vibes

roscoelovescoco happy’s anniversary’s mum and’s dad 

→ yn_ln my precious boy 

→ user11 now she needs a real baby 

danielriccairdo i can’t believe she’s managed to put up with you for ten years 😂 huge love to you both

→ yn_ln ngl, it’s been tough

→ lewishamilton i’m taking the ferrari back 

user12 wedding and baby when? 

georgerussell63 happy 10 year anniversary. yn is my favourite part of you being my teammate 

→ carmenmmundt can we keep her when you go to ferrari?

→ charles_leclerc no. it’s my turn now 

→ lewishamilton i think you’re all forgetting that she’s mine 

mercedesamgf1 just posted

liked by georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli and others 

mercedesamgf1 GET IN THERE, LEWIS 🏆🥇 LEWIS HAMILTON IS YOUR BRITISH GRAND PRIX WINNER 

23,441 comments

yn_ln my love. i honestly have not stopped crying since you crossed that line. i’m so proud of you. you deserved this and proved to everyone why you’re a motorsport legend

→ lewishamilton couldn't do it without your support 🩷

→ mercedesamgf1 it’s true. the mechanics were uncomfortable when they realised they couldn't just keep giving her tissues

georgerussell63 you deserve it, mate

valterribottas well done champ

user1 can’t believe he won silverstone the same weekend he celebrated 10 years with yn 

→ user2 she’s always been his good luck charm. he performs so well when she’s watching

→ user3 they’re the dream team together 

user4 the fact that yn is the only one he responded to

user5 she’s getting it good tonight

skysportsf1 posted a new interview

user6 oh no, lewis…

user7 lewis, she was asking what was next for you and yn, relationship wise

user8 oh, that’s not quite

user9 i hope yn doesn’t see this otherwise i fear lewis might be in the doghouse tonight 

→ user10 i hope she does see it so that she knows he’s not thinking of her future in the same way 

user11 i always thought lewis loved yn as much as yn loved lewis but now i’m not sure

user12 it’s the fact that the poor interviewer looked upset at his answer as well. like she hoped for better

→ user13 we all hoped for better 

user14 it’s the fact that she’s always talked about wanting kids and getting married but has always said they’re waiting until lewis is ready

→ user15 the fact that every year passes and he never indicates that he’s ready for any of it though 

replies to @/F1Wags

user1 lewis still follows yn

→ user2 and still has all of his photos up, including their anniversary post 

→ user1 i’m hoping this means he’s in denial and is still trying to win her back

user3 i can’t believe this is real. she went all the way back and deleted everything related to him in 10 years. even edited posts to delete slides he was in

→ user4 dedicated queen

user5 just fell to my knees in walmart

user6 i’m devastated but i also hope this means she finds a man who will be prepared to give her the life she wants 

→ user7 well, more fool her for staying this long

→ user6 not really. ever think she wanted those things because she wanted them with lewis

→ user8 don’t break my heart like this please  

replies to @/WeDon'tThink

user9 okay but your pen was on fire when you wrote that 

user10 he literally had the best weekend of his life with a 10yr anniversary, winning silverstone and then clearly messed it all up somehow in the end 

user11 if sir lewis hamilton can’t even do right, what hope do the rest of us have in finding a decent man

→ user12 no because they looked just as in love as they did 10 years ago and he still fumbled

user13 i saw rumours it was because he gave her an ultimatum and she didn’t take the path he wanted 

→ user14 what do you mean?

→ user13 apparently “close sources” said that he told her if she wanted kids, she couldn't have him and so she left 

→ user14 wtf!!! good on her for dumping his ass

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calvinklein and yn_ln just posted

liked by nicorosberg, fernandoalo_official and others 

calvinklein @/yn_ln is stunning in calvin klein underwear. shop the collection now 

5,533 comments

yn_ln oh okay. i look goooood 

→ alexandrasaintmleux i would let you take me home

→ carmenmmundt me too

→ georgerussell63 excuse me, i don’t agree with this

user1 aha, nico we see you 

→ user2 and fernando

landonorris oh so he fumbled bad 

→ oscarpiastri they’re going to take your social media off you again

user3 is this her version of a revenge dress?

→ user4 more like undress

user5 not sure why you wouldn’t want to marry and give a baby to a woman like that 

→ user6 okay, ew

user7 can we appreciate how she’s handled this with class. instead of speaking out against lewis, she’s been booked and busy and flitting about europe on modelling jobs 

→ user8 just further proof that he managed to lose the best woman ever 

roscoelovescoco you’s look’s nice, mum

→ user9 i know lewis hires someone to run this account but what are the odds that he’s actually behind it now so he can stalk yn 

yn_ln please can we all focus on the clothes and support how hot i look by buying some! 

→ danielricciardo don’t even have tits but you convinced me to buy a bra

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lewishamilton just posted

liked by valterribottas, scuderiaferrari and others 

lewishamilton mixed feelings about today. obviously happy for a win but very disappointing for george and the team missing out on a 1-2

7,744 comments

georgerussell63 we put up a good fight today

user1 not really a deserved win though, is it

user2 you fumbled yn and now you’re fumbling wins. you only got this because merc screwed over george 

roscoelovescoco well’s done’s dad

user3 see what happens when you play a good woman, you get a dirty win

user4 man needs to act his age. can’t believe at the grand age of 39, he strung along a girl who loved him more than anything for 10 years

→ user5 destroyed my faith in men for real 

user6 robbed a win from george like you robbed 10 years from yn 

(comments on this post have been limited)

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I wrote this out and was really proud of it and then when I was adding the other driver’s versions on, I realised it was the same principal as Daniel’s so I’m so sorry for the repeated plot

Baby Fever Angst Masterlist

requests are open

[moonsgemini]

kinda sorry - firefighter!rafe

-

summary: After months of a cat & mouse game Rafe finally gets his favorite waitress alone. He doesn’t even care if it’s at his place of work.

warning: 18+, firefighter!rafe x waitress!reader, fem reader, SMUT! these people are freaks!! dirty talk, oral, cum play & eating (I’m so sorry?), praise kink, fingering, cursing, p in v

an: hiiiii this is so smutty I actually need to repent my sins. I promise I’m working on the next part of cherry wine I just cannot figure out how to end it so in the mean time enjoy another firefighter rafe fic. Does it kinda suck ? yeah.

-

You wiped the same spot on the counter for the fifth time as you looked at the clock on the wall behind you. It was already fifteen past seven and they weren’t here yet. You were starting to get antsy. They always showed up at seven like clock work and you hadn’t seen them leave for a call. No flashing lights and loud sirens had been heard or seen.

God you felt pathetic. When did your life come this?

Pining over a hot firefighter who worked across the street and probably only acknowledges your existence for free slices of pie and haphazard flirting. He was so handsome you’d let him flirt with you for free pie any time. You really did feel pathetic, but it had been a long time since a very attractive man made your palms sweat and stomach flutter. Even if there was a chance it was all just out of boredom on his end.

When that hope in your chest that they’d come began to diminish you looked up one more time, just in case. That’s when you spotted the group men walking out of the fire station across the street. A smile involuntarily appeared on your lips. Your favorite part of the week finally arrived.

You’ve been working at Penny’s since high school so you were familiar with the little routine the men across the street carried on. You had grown up with most of the guys having known them since you were a teenager. A couple of them now even being your old classmates. Except for him.

Rafe had started a few months ago and you hadn’t stopped thinking about him since his first visit to Penny’s. It was rare to see a handsome face like his in this small town. It was rare to see a new face period.

You spotted him right away. He could surprisingly pull off the buzzcut and mustaches always did something for you. He was tall with big arms, how could anyone not like him.

From behind the register you watch through the windows as he laughed at something one of the other guys said rubbing his hand over his mustache. A habit you noticed he had. God did he look as handsome as ever. You wanted to know what his mustache felt like against the skin of your neck and against your inner thighs.

The bell above the door rang as the group of men walked into the small diner. You pretended to be busy by wiping the spot next to the one that you had spent the last fifteen minutes on. Doing your best to seem nonchalant like you hadn’t been anticipating their arrival all day by staring out the windows. You would never do something like that.

You looked up and smiled at the familiar faces welcoming them in. They greeted you as they walked to their usual booth in the corner.

Rafe was the last to walk in giving you a smirk and a small nod as he passed. His navy blue tee shirt fit tightly over his chest and biceps. Always a sight for sore eyes. You were practically drooling, you wanted to bite him. Wanted to feel his big hands all over your skin.

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath feeling your cheeks get hot. You needed to push those thoughts away or you’d do something embarrassing. Brushing your hands on your apron you approached them, pulling out your favorite pen and sticker covered order book.

You may or may not have put a little more effort into your appearance today. For no particular reason of course, but if he was going to flirt with you then you might as well play into it. At least that’s what you told yourself when you applied lashes and added some blush to your cheeks.

“Hey guys, what can I get you all to drink?” You asked once standing in front of the table as if they didn’t order the same thing every time.

“I’ll take a coffee my dear,” Captain Morales said smiling. He’s known you for years now and looked out for you as if you were his own daughter.

Rafe was last to order. That smirk making it’s way to his lips again, “I’ll take a coffee y/n,” His eyes lingered on your glossy lips. Little did you know that he was thinking about how he could just eat you up.

As his eyes raked over you face he didn’t miss the red tinge in your cheeks. He’d do anything to make it an even deeper red. Specifically have you blushing profusely under him or even on top of him. Then he started to think about you bent over and ready for him.

“Coming right up!” You said sweetly before heading off to get the coffees breaking whatever trance he was in.

-

Wednesday’s had become Rafe’s favorite day of the week. Not only was it technically his friday but he got to see his favorite girl. He always thinks about the first time he saw you. You were arguing with a customer who thought their expired coupon should still be valid. He watched as the guy threw his soda at you and before him or any one else could step in you punched the guy in the nose and dragged him out by his collar. The idiot cradling his nose bleeding nose.

That has been the hottest thing Rafe had ever witnessed.

“Now it’s free! Never come back dick head!” You yelled at him as you stomped back into the diner. After spending a few minutes in the back changing into a tee shirt you had in your locker you went to their table. Your tough demeanor had vanished and you held a soft smile on your face. That’s when he knew he was fucked.

-

Y/n walked back behind the counter to grab mugs and the coffee pot. You knew you’d probably have to make another fresh pot after serving them. Your best friend, Grace, had returned from her break and was wiping menus staring at the table of men.

“Matt looks so good. If we don’t get laid by these hot men we need to quit and become nuns,” Grace said quietly as she eyed the firefighter she’s had her eye on since he moved to town a few years ago.

Y/n snorted, “I’ve given up on mine. It’s been months and it’s just flirting and checking me out,” she shrugged, “Our hook ups and incredibly romantic dates will remain in my fantasies.”

“Don’t say that when I’ve been waiting a year now for mr brown eyes,” Grace huffed, “Why doesn’t he do anything. He acts like I’d say no to him.”

“You could ask him out,” You said handing her three mugs to help you take everything. Mostly so she could get closer to Matt.

She laughed dramatically, “You’re so funny Y/n! And after that I’ll call my dad since we’re saying things that are never going to happen.”

“Oh come on he could never say no to you,” You encouraged.

“Then you ask blondie out.”

You stared blankly at her.

She snorted, “That’s what I thought. Lets just continue to admire from afar so the hottest men we’ve ever seen don’t reject us.”

You followed behind her with a sigh. It’s not like you hadn’t thought about asking Rafe to hang out. It’s just that you had that nagging feeling in your chest that maybe he didn’t want to see you anywhere outside the diner. You cleared your throat to rid the anxiety that began to bubble in your stomach. You didn’t have time to over think that right now.

Grace placed one of the cups in front of Matt and he looked up at her with a shy smile, thanking her softly. They were two idiots in love.

“Are we ready to order?” You asked after filling the last mug.

“Yes ma’am,” Stanford said. One of the other older fire fighters.

It was always hard paying attention to their orders when Rafe’s ocean eyes were boring into you. He always had that affect of turning you into complete mush.

“For you Rafe?” You asked tilting your head to the side slightly.

A teasing smile pulled at his mouth, “Bacon cheeseburger with fries please.”

“No onions?”

He nodded. His pants getting a bit tight at the thought of you remembering something about him.

“You got it, I’ll put this is for you boys.” You smiled an walked away. A little extra sway to your hips hoping Rafe was watching but hoping you weren’t making a fool of yourself.

-

A slap to the back of his head got Rafe out of his trance. He ducked rubbing his head turning towards the culprit. His wonderful view of your ass ruined.

“Ow?” He muttered looking over at Miguel next to him.

“Are you just going to check her out every fucking week or are you going to do something?” He asked with a teasing tone.

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t have time for a girl right now.”

“You’re such a fuckin liar,” Morales laughed as he sipped his black coffee.

Rafe rubbed his face, “I’m working on it okay.”

Morales smirked knowing he was getting under his skin, “You and baby face over here need to grow a pair or someone else is gonna realize how wonderful those women are and beat you to it.”

“Hey what do I have to do with this,” Matt muttered rubbing his mustache.

Miguel laughed, “Dude Grace has been pining for you for forever and don’t act like you don’t feel the same.”

His began blushing at the thought of her, “Whatever. She’s too good for me anyways.”

“Spare me the pity party Anderson and ask the woman out,” Morales said and then pointed at Rafe, “And you. Do something or don’t. Don’t string her along with whatever flirting shit you do.”

Rafe huffed, “Yeah Yeah.”

He turned to look for you tuning out whatever new conversation started between the men. He found you laughing with Grace as you both rolled napkins with silverware. He loved your laugh and your smile. It was so infectious and warm. Rafe had no idea he could feel this way towards someone.

At first it was all lust. Your attractiveness captivated him, especially knowing you didn’t put up with anyone’s shit but also still a complete sweetheart. He moved to this town because he needed a fresh start. He didn’t expect to pine after a woman who was way too good for him.

Rafe continued to watch as you walked around helping other customers. The sway of your hips made him want to grab onto them. Pull you against him as he kissed down your neck from behind. He’d love to hear your laugh as his mustache tickled your ear. He could already see how pink your cheeks would get at the dirty words he’d whisper in your ear if you let him.

You had no idea that you could have him on his hands and knees for you.

-

Captain Morales had paid for their dinner and they had gone back to the station. Of course the meal was filled with Rafe’s longing glances towards you. Some not so subtle flirting on his end, you of course didn’t do it back in front of the other guys. But when they’d al go outside to wait for the captain to pay he would linger as you wiped down their table.

That nights conversation had firmly planted that seed of hope. Hope that he’d finally pull a move on you since there was a fundraiser barbecue at the station this weekend. Obviously you would be there because you would never miss an opportunity to support your community. It had nothing to do with the fact that Rafe was going to be there.

“You’re coming this weekend right? Or do they have you working?” He had asked with a smirk.

You shook your head with a teasing smile, “Not working, don’t worry I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

“Good?” You teased tilting your head a little in a questioning manor.

He nodded, “I’d be bored without my favorite girl.”

You huffed a flustered laugh, “You mean server?”

He shook his head, “I meant what I said.”

-

Rafe watched as you laughed with Mrs.Garcia about something as you helped pass out desserts. It had been almost three hours since the fundraiser started and he had gotten to talk to you only a handful of times.

He was put on grill duty and you had been pulled in all directions by people. Rafe liked the small town atmosphere of the place and it was one of the reasons why he was glad he got hired at that station, but now he was starting to hate it. Why did everyone have to know you and take you away from him.

You were just as disappointed as him. Every time you would try and make your way to the grill someone would pull you to help with something or the kids would want you to watch their dance routine they made up. You could feel his eyes on you and when you looked back at him he’d smirk. That stupid devilish handsome smirk.

The sun had begun to set and people were starting to clear out. You looked around and found Rafe helping take down all of the tables and put away chairs. Being ordered around by Captain Morales. You sighed, maybe you and Rafe were always meant to just have flirty banter. Nothing more.

You didn’t want to wait around until he was free again and you didn’t want to bother him so you accepted your fate. Before you left you wanted to use the restroom so you made your way into the firehouse.

Once Rafe was done helping clean up he looked around for you. He didn’t see you anywhere. His chest filled with disappointment as to how the night went. He thought this would be his chance to talk to you outside your job and maybe even take you home. His disappointment was clear on his face as he continued to look around as if you’d come out of thin air any moment.

Beside him someone cleared their throat, “She went inside a couple minutes ago,” Captain Morales said.

Rafe looked over at him with furrowed brows, “huh?”

“Your girl. She’s inside. Now hurry before you miss your chance,” He nodded towards the open door.

Rafe laughed, “How do you even-“

“Son you two look at each other like you both hung the moon I’d be an idiot to not know. Now please go get her I don’t want to have to deal with your attitude later if you miss your chance.”

Rafe nodded his head with a wide smile, “Yes sir.”

He made his way into the firehouse to look for you. Hopefully you hadn’t slipped by him. As he turned the corner to where the restrooms were he found you standing looking at some pictures hanging on the wall.

He stood there for a minute just admiring you. Your soft cheeks and long lashes. Your long smooth legs in that sundress that looked a bit too short and tight on you. It made something in his stomach stir. He cleared his throat to gain your attention.

Your head snapped towards him. Eyes widening in surprise, you weren’t expecting him. Rafe walked over to stand by you and see what you were staring at. It was a picture of the whole station. Then a picture of him and a couple other guys.

“Staring at me huh?” He asked with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “You wish Cameron.”

“I do.” He turned to look at you. That dreamy look in his eyes, “You almost got away from me today.”

You laughed softly, “Sorry. I was trying to come up to you but you know how it is.”

He nodded, “That’s the unfortunate thing about liking a girl everyone loves. You couldn’t help the hear that creeped up your neck at his confession.

He didn’t let you say anything as he continued, “Guess that just means I’ll need to take you out on a date to get you alone.”

You let out a surprised huff, “Oh yeah? Well we’re alone right now.” You looked around making a show of it.

He smirked, “So you don’t want to go on a date with me baby?”

This man was going to be the death of you, “Of course I do. Been waiting for you to ask.”

He laughed and took a step closer to you, “Sorry it’s taken me so long. I liked that little dance we were doing, but let me make it up to you.”

Your body was on fire at everything he was saying. This man had to have been created in a lab with the way he was speaking to you. He was walking closer to you now and you took a few steps back until your back hit the wall of the hallway.

“How are you gonna do that hm?” You tried to play cool as if your pulse wasn’t racing in anticipation. Now you weren’t usually a girl that hooked up with a guy before going on a date but that was going all out the window today if Rafe wanted to have his way with you.

He reached forward and stroked your cheek with his thumb. His eyes going down to your lips. His tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip as your parted, “By fucking you.”

Your eyes widened slightly. Thighs clenching at his non filtered confession, he really was done playing the cat and mouse game. You didn’t even care. Your brain became complete mush and you would let him fuck you in this hallway right now if he wanted to.

“You gonna let me do that hm?” He asked as if he didn’t already know the answer by the way your thighs clenched and your nipples hardened underneath your dress.

You nodded slowly as if you were under a spell. Your heart was erratic as you pictured this tall handsome man fucking you in his big arms. You could cum just thinking about it.

His thumb tugged gently as your bottom lip, “Words baby come on.”

“Yes please,” You said softly.

That’s all he needed to hear before he took your hand and dragged you into the room next to you. It was one of the rooms where they came to sleep during over night shifts. It had a desk, bunk beds, and one single bed. He locked the door behind him before pushing you up against the desk. Rafe and you were panting and you hadn’t even touched each other yet.

He cupped your face in his hands and groaned, “You’re so beautiful I can’t keep my hands to myself anymore.”

“Then don’t,” You murmured in a haze as he dove in to capture your lips in his.

He groaned and moved his hands down to your waist and then to your hips. Pulling you even closer to him as you parted your mouth to let him have more access. He was everywhere and it felt so good. His tongue explored your mouth as his hands grabbed and squeezed at your body. The light whimpers and moans leaving your mouth sending him into a frenzy.

He pulled away with hazy eyes and swollen lips, “Fuck I’ve been thinking about this for long.”

You nodded your head rapidly, “Me too.” You said breathlessly. You felt like you were in a Rafe enduced trance. He moaned at the sight of your swollen lips and the strap of your dress had fallen in the haste.

He pushed you back so you were sitting on the desk now with him between your parted legs. He leaned forward and began pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck. You tilted your head back giving him more room. Your fingers tangled in his hair. Tugging when he kissed that one particular spot below your ear. He bit at your neck and you gasped as his tongue soothed the sting. You had never been so turned on in your life, and he hadn’t even touched you really.

That changed when his hands slid down your hips to your thighs. He squeezed them loving the feel of them. Rafe couldn’t wait to have them wrapped around his head, he wanted you to suffocate him. He needed you to suffocate him with your pussy.

He played with the hem of your dress as he kissed your collarbone. He was being a tease, “I thought the teasing was over.” You mumbled with hooded eyes. You wanted him to just shove the dress up and fuck you.

He chuckled against the swell of your breast that he had been peppering with kisses, “Patience sweetheart. I’ll fill you up with my cock, tongue, and fingers in no time.”

You moaned at his words as he slipped the straps of your dress down and tugged the top part down to reveal your tits. He groaned at the sight of your perked nipples and leaned down taking one in his mouth. His other hand reaching for the other and brushing his thumb over the sensitive bud.

The moans that left your mouth were pornographic. It was like you had been touched in years which was only partly true.

“Mmm you’re so sweet,” He groaned as he moved to the other one.

You sighed with pleasure, “I need you.”

He laughed softly going back to kiss you, “Don’t worry baby I’ll give you what you need.”

His big hands grabbed your hips and pulled you off the desk in a swift motion. You thought he was going to take you to the bed and finally have his way. You should have known better with him, you’re starting to get that Rafe loves the anticipation. The chase of it all because he turned you around so his chest was on your back.

You could feel him aching agains your lower back. He felt so big and your mouth watered at the thought. You barely had any time to question what he was doing when you felt him press kisses from in between your shoulders and down your back. As he did he gently pushed you down to be basically bent over the desk. Then he was kneeling behind you.

His hands stroking your thighs as they shook in anticipation. He playfully bit your butt with a small groan. Rafe pushed your dress up to rest around your waist. Almost on instinct you arched your back and pushed your hips towards him. Needing for him to do something.

“Please Rafe,” You murmured desperately.

He grinned sweetly, “You sound so pretty asking nicely baby.” He reached his hand down to lightly stroke you over your underwear.

You gasped at the minimal contact. Then he was fully rubbing circles onto your clit. The wet patch at your center growing. He pulled your cheeks apart as he dove in and pressed wet kisses to your clothes pussy.

“Fuck,” He groaned, “Let me have a taste yeah?”

You whined. Literally whined, “Please Rafey please please.” You never thought you could be this desperate for a man. You could feel his smirk against your cunt.

He slid your panties to the side and dove in like a starved man. You gasped in surprised not expecting him to go all in since he had been teasing so much, but you’d thank God every day for it. You already knew you’d be thinking about his mouth for the rest of your life.

Rafe’s tongue massaged your clit in the best way and with the position his nose nudged at your entrance. His hands reached up to grab a handful of your ass and squeeze making you moan louder.

The room was filled with the sounds of his sucking and lapping as well as your whines. His hand then came down to slap one cheek. A motion that made you push yourself against his mouth even more.

Rafe would be a happy man if this is the way he went out. Drowning in your pussy. Your juices dripping down his chin as he mercilessly worked his tongue over you. The groans he let out adding to the pleasure.

Pressure built up in your lower stomach as that knot of pleasure tightened. You had never gotten so close so fast besides with your own hand. The way this man was lapping you up had your legs shaking.

“Yes Rafe!” You exclaimed, “Gonna cum!”

Your head flew back as your eyes shut in pleasure. The white hot euphoric feeling of your orgasm taking over.

“Mhmmm,” He groaned as he continued to lick and suck, “Fuck baby so good.” He mumbled as he continued his ministrations prolonging the intense feeling.

He pulled away once he had cleaned you up of everything you gave him, “Such a messy girl huh,” He mumbled as he pulled your hair so your back was against his chest again. Your head tilted back onto his shoulder. Rafe had a way with words, it had your mind in a haze.

He moved his hand to cup your face and tilt it towards him even more so he could capture your lips in his. The kiss was sloppy and so hot.

You pulled away slightly and mumbled against his lips, “Please please fuck me Rafey.”

He but his lip and groaned, “Of course baby anything you want.”

You expected him to shove his pants down and stuff his cock in you but you should have known him better. He spun you around so your back was pressed to the desk again. He tapped on the back of your thighs to get you to sit on it again and as you did he mumbled, “So obedient.”

The scene in front of him looked so vulgar. You were sat at the desk with your dress bunched around your stomach. All the delicious parts Rafe wanted to dive into exposed. He took a mental picture to remember it even though this definitely wouldn’t be the last time he’d have his way with you.

You reach out for him and tugged at his shirt wanting it off. He smirked as he took the hint and pulled it off. The sight of his toned chest and broad arms had you gushing all over again.

“We should be quick now before they come looking,” He muttered as he began to undo his belt. He pulled his pants and boxers down to rest around his ankles. His cock on full display for you and you bit your lip as you took in the sight. Glassy eyes widening at the size, you had never seen one like that.

He tugged at it a few times to relieve the tension. The way you were looking at him was making his ego grow, and Rafe didn’t really need that.

Grabbing where your knees crease he pushed your legs up so your feet were almost flat on the desk. Your core glistening and on display for him.

“Fuck I can’t wait to be in that nice wet pussy,” He couldn’t away. He let you hold yourself up now as he grabbed himself and began sliding his tip through your folds. You let out small whimpers at the feeling. Then rubbed it over your clit, making you even wetter.

Rafe was having the time of his life. You felt so good against him he never wanted to stop. The way your nipples perked and your eyes practically watered in pleasure.

“You’re so wet baby,” He slipped the tip into your entrance, “mmmph feel s’good huh.” He smirked cockily as he pushed himself in deeper and deeper.

Your brows furrowed in pleasure as he stretched you deliciously. His thumb finding your clit and rubbing soft circles. Your head fell back with a sigh as he bottomed out.

He leaned forwards and kissed you softly as he started moving. You both moaned as he pushed back in hitting that sweet spot. He pulled away and leaned down to take a nipple in his mouth. Sucking and gently tugging.

Your hands were tangled un his short locks. As his movements grew faster and harder your hands moved all over. His shoulders, chest, back anywhere you could touch. Your nails leaving crescents in his skin as he continued to mumble obscenities into your ear.

‘so good baby’ ‘the most perfect pussy’ ‘my good girl letting me fuck her so well’

The feeling of euphoria increasing as he continued. Rafe groaned as he felt you tighten around him. He was regretting one thing right now and that was waiting this long to fuck you.

“M’close Rafe,” You whined as that familiar feeling spread throughout your body.

“I know,” He panted and started working faster, “Cum for me baby come on. I know you can do it.”

His encouragement helped your release. As he felt you orgasm and tighten around him he neared the edge of his own orgasm.

“Need you to cum in me,” You mumbled as he milked you for all you had.

His eyes rolled back at your statement, “Fuuuck.” Then his hips snapped into you a few more times before he released inside you coating your walls in his cum. It felt so good to have him stuffed inside you. His head resting on your chest as he groaned. After a few minutes of your labored breaths Rafe slowly pulled out. The loss of him causing you to whimper and he just smirked.

You thought you guys were done but then Rafe looked down and slipped two fingers inside you.

“Oh Rafe,” You gasped, “W-what are you doing?”

He bit his lip as he continued to watch his fingers pump in and out slowly, “Feeling how well you took all my cum baby.”

Then as if he couldn’t be hotter and dirtier he removed his fingers and his cum was all over them. He took them and began rubbing it over your clit. The overstimulation made your toes curl and your mouth fall open.

The scene in front of him was so filthy and will be on constant reply for the rest of his life. The entire last hour he would be thinking about that forever.

He removed his fingers and you reached out grabbing his wrist to tug the fingers into your mouth. Licking and sucking his fingers clean.

“Dirty girl,” He mumbled as you pulled them out with a pop.

He leaned in and kissed you softly, no more lust behind it. It was something else now. Rafe helped you fix your dress and pull your underwear back on after he pulled his pants back up.

“I’m kind of sorry I didn’t take you out first but I also don’t regret it because I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you for months,” Rafe said as you fixed your ruffled hair.

You smiled at him, “I’m not at all. You can still take me out and we can do that all over again.”

A loud banging on the door made you jump and rafe whip his head around.

“You guys done yet? I need a nap,” one of the other guys yelled through the door.

Your face paled at the realization that you might now have been very quiet. Rafe just laughed, “One minute!”

“Oh god. I need to quit my job and move towns now,” You put your hands on your face in embarrassment.

Rafe laughed and kissed the back of your hands that covered your face, “Nuh uh. Not running from me now.”

[nemo-writes]

⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

↣ pack!tf141 x witch!reader

↣ chapter summary; summoning her was a choice heavy with consequences. now, you're forced to confront buried loyalties and a steep price for salvation.

★ warnings; body horror, mommy issues

☆ story masterlist

Hours pass after the call, each second heavy with anticipation as you sit on the porch, nails tapping out a nervous rhythm over your knee. Calling her was a decision you didn’t take lightly, and now that she’s coming, you can only wonder how it’ll play out after all this time. You’d left, and now, after everything, you’re the one who reached out first.

Suddenly, the rumble of an engine breaks the quiet, and it makes you straighten immediately. A sleek, black Mustang pulls into the drive, its windows so dark they blend seamlessly with the car's polished frame. It parks beside your own truck and where Sybil is sleeping inside. You stand up, unconsciously straightening up and brushing invisible lint off your clothes.

The moment the engine cuts off, you feel your pulse kick up a notch, the anticipation turning almost to dread.

A tall and imposing figure steps out of the driver’s seat first. It’s König, towering as ever, his dark, broad frame cutting a familiar figure in the low evening light. He steps up to meet you and doesn’t speak right away. His eyes, visible through the thin slit in his mask, soften just a little, a trace of warmth amidst his usually stoic demeanour. Carefully, he thumbs your chin in a familiar and comforting gesture, before he steps back.

“It’s been a while,” he murmurs quietly.

You give him a small nod, secretly grateful for the reassurance he brings. But the spell of reassurance fades as he opens the back door. Out slinks Cath Palug, your Mother’s familiar, a sleek, pitch-black sphynx cat with eyes like twin pale green mirrors, large and unblinking. The cat stretches his lean, wiry body and pads gracefully from the car, casting you an assessing gaze with piercing intelligence. Cath Palug’s presence is a prelude to the inevitable, and you swallow, feeling the familiar pressure of old expectations closing in.

Then your Mother steps out.

She’s a striking figure, even more intimidating than you remember, her poise and presence as commanding as ever. Dark glasses cover her eyes, and a sheer veil drapes elegantly over her face. The rich red of her lipstick is perfectly applied, as are her sharply pointed black nails, all silent declarations of control and power.

The instinct to fall back into your old ways is overpowering, and before you can think twice, you take a single step forward, bowing your head as you take her outstretched hand. You press a respectful kiss to the ring on her finger, a gesture that feels as natural as it is jarring—old habits and all. She says nothing as you straighten, and though her eyes are hidden, you feel her gaze on you, sizing you up. The faintest smile touches her lips, cold and knowing.

“Hello, darling,” she finally says. Your pulse quickens as you nod, bracing yourself for whatever comes next.

Her gaze flickers over you, taking in every detail. “You look dreadful,” she says bluntly, the hint of a frown just barely touching her lips. “Haggard, exhausted. Stand up straight, would you? And explain the situation clearly.”

Her voice is clipped and unwavering, the very tone you’d grown up trying to avoid displeasing. The urge to explain, to smooth over any cracks in your composure, presses against you, and despite the bitterness it brings, you lift your head and straighten your shoulders, forcing calm into your voice as you begin.

“Yes, of course, Mother.”

As you start to recount the events, Cath Palug rubs briefly against her heels, tail flicking as it studies you with the kind of scrutiny that is all too familiar. Meanwhile, König moves ahead, his tall frame cutting through the space with purposeful strides. You can tell by his pace that he’s already in full guard mode, reading every shadow, every open corner for a potential disturbance.

You guide her through the entrance, and with every detail you recount, she says nothing. Her nose wrinkles as she surveys the house, one hand reaching delicately into her pocket to retrieve a crisp, black-lace handkerchief. She presses it to her nose, a distasteful sigh escaping her lips.

“Charming place they have here,” she murmurs, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Your beloved truly have a flair for neglect, don’t they?”

You clench your jaw, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady. “I asked them to stay on the far side of the house for now,” you reply, your voice laced with as much calm as you can manage. “They won’t interfere.”

Her critical gaze sweeps over you, and she nods, looking satisfied, as if you’d passed a test you hadn’t realised was still in place. “Good. That makes this far easier.”

As you reach the door to Leah’s room, she pauses, assessing the energy hanging thickly in the air.

“König,” she says, her voice softer but no less commanding, “stay back. Watch over us but don’t enter. I suspect whatever is inside may corrupt even the strongest minds.”

König bows his head, stepping back with the same silent grace he used upon entering. He positions himself just outside the room, gaze sharpening, vigilant and ready but out of view. As the two of you step in, you can feel her energy tense, the magic in her stirring to meet whatever lay inside.

You clear your throat and try to keep your voice steady. “It’s a parasite,” you explain, feeling the sting of her scrutiny with each word. “And it’s vampiric in nature.”

She waves a hand dismissively. “Yes, yes. The signs are practically screaming.” Cath Palug, hops into the bed and arches its back, sniffing cautiously as if tasting the darkness in the air, before hissing sharply at Leah and jumping back down. Your Mother steps closer to Leah, removing her glasses and examining her with an appraising look that makes your stomach twist.

“Beautiful,” she murmurs, trailing one long, black nail above Leah’s arm. “I can see why she was chosen. A perfect little target for something so vile.”

Her gaze flickers over to you then, sharper, assessing. Her eyes carry that icy, knowing weight. “Your situation couldn’t be more clear, either,” she says, her tone cutting. “Discarded, were you? Cast aside without a second thought, as if the love you poured into them was nothing compared to this... human.” She gestures toward Leah, her lips curled into a thin, humourless smile.

The truth in her words is a punch to the gut. Tears prick at your eyes, but you won’t let them fall—not here, not in front of her, not after all the years you spent learning to hold yourself together under her piercing gaze. You swallow down the sting, focusing on keeping your composure, just as you always had in the past.

Finally, she steps back, putting her dark glasses back on as her expression cools. “I’ll treat her,” she says, a glimmer of satisfaction in her voice, as though she’s won something precious. “But there’s a toll to be paid, of course.” She tilts her head. “You’ll return to the coven. That’s my price. Come back as my heir, and I’ll cleanse her.”

Shame curls tight in your chest, creeping into every part of you, but your thoughts linger on them—on how, despite everything they’ve put you through, you still love them. You remember when they were the ones who held you up, who sheltered you, loved you. For the memory of those days and the loyalty they once showed you, you draw a breath and nod, head bowed.

“I shall serve,” you say, the words heavy on your tongue.

A faint smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, and without another word, she turns back around to face Leah. Her hand hovers over her chest for a moment, then sinks into it as if phasing through mist. You watch, heart pounding, as her fingers disappear beneath Leah’s skin, moving with a surreal ease. She reaches deeper, her arm lost in Leah’s body until, with a sharp tug, she yanks her hand back out.

In her grasp is the parasite, writhing and hideous, a twisted, centipede-like thing. She holds it up, it's dark, slick body wriggling, as she flicks her wrist and tosses it into the air. Cath Palug leaps, claws extended and teeth flashing, catching the creature in one swift, lethal motion and dispatching it efficiently.

It’s gone as quickly as it appeared. And just like that, it’s over.

The tension in the room is palpable as Leah lies motionless on the bed, the air thick with expectation. After a heartbeat, she gasps and jerks awake, pulling you from your anxious vigil. Relief tries to settle in your chest, but it’s quickly swept away as your Mother’s elegant hand presses firmly onto your shoulder, steering you out of the room without a second glance at Leah.

Her work here is done, and by her rules, so is yours.

Stepping into the hallway, you’re met with a tense standoff. König stands, silent and imposing, facing off with Price and Gaz. Their expressions are tight, But when König's gaze falls on you, his stance softens, just slightly, allowing a gentleness to seep into his intense demeanour.

Words start to form on your lips—an explanation, a warning—but they’re forgotten as Price and Gaz push past you without a second glance, their attention fixed solely on Leah. The pang of their disregard twists painfully inside you, deepening as your Mother lets out a disapproving click of her tongue, muttering, “Predictable,” with cold satisfaction.

Yet König steps up to stand by your side. His eyes linger as he wraps one of his arms around your shoulder. As he holds you, his calm strength eases some of the tension from your shoulders. Gently, he guides you away from the room and the people who were once everything to you.

Before reaching the front door, you hesitate, glancing up at him with a thousand concerns flickering in your gaze. Your mind returns to Sybil still back in your truck. 

“Sybil… she’s—,” you whisper, unable to hide the worry in your voice. König’s eyes meet yours through his mask, understanding immediately. He gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“She’s safe, meine liebe,” he murmurs softly. “Sybil’s waiting for us in the car. I thought you’d want her close.” His thoughtfulness eases your worry. “I know how much she means to you. The ward you left behind was sublime, as always.”

Your face warms at his compliment, and you start to thank him, but he hushes you gently, brushing a calloused finger over your cheek. “Let me take care of you,” he says, his voice soft yet steady, an unwavering promise.

It’s not unfamiliar, this caring side of him, but after everything, it still catches you off guard. He picks up your bag of supplies from beside the door, effortlessly slinging it over his shoulder before acknowledging your Mother, who watches a few paces away. She gives him a curt nod, a subtle approval that König returns with a respectful bow before leading you outside.

At the curb, he helps your Mother into the car first, Cath Palug jumping in right after. Then, he guides you into the back seat. Sybil, just as he promised, is curled up in the front seat. Relief sweeps through you as you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to her nose. She lifts her head to gaze at you with sleepy, trusting eyes, her tail thumping faintly.

For once, your Mother remains silent, her face impassive as you reunite with Sybil. König watches you in the rearview mirror, his gaze holding yours for a brief, grounding moment before he starts the engine.

Just as the car pulls away from the curb, your Mother speaks, her tone as sharp. “Take us to Black Mous.”

The command strikes you like a shock, but you swallow any questions that rise in your throat. König’s eyes flick to her in the mirror, and he responds with his usual composure. “At once. We’ll be there shortly.”

. . .

The car stops smoothly at bar's entrance. König steps out first, opening the door for your Mother with a practised ease, her familiar jumping out behind her. She whispers something to König that you don't catch, and he nods solemnly before rounding the car to help you.

He then goes to your door, offering you a hand which you take with a soft thanks. His grip lingers on yours however. “Sybil and I will be right here.” His voice is soft, steady, even though you can see the slight tension in his jaw. He gently squeezes your hand before finally letting go, settling back against the car with folded arms and a watchful gaze even under the mask. 

With one final look, you follow inside after your Mother.

Inside the bar, the world falls silent. The regular patrons, familiar faces who would normally greet you with nods or smiles, freeze at the sight of your Mother. She strides forward with Cath Palug keeping pace beside her, his slitted eyes glinting dangerously.

“Everyone, out.” Laswell’s voice cuts through the silence, firm and resolute. She doesn’t need to repeat herself. Chairs scrape across the floor as patrons hurriedly exit, their glances lingering on the two of you before quickly darting away.

You follow after your Mother, feeling like a shadow—silent, resigned, and drawn along by her intense presence. She halts before Laswell, Cath Palug twisting around her feet, her movements slow and foreboding.

Laswell’s gaze flicks between the two of you. “To what do I owe this… visit?” she asks cautiously, her usual confidence strained.

Your Mother doesn’t waste a second. “The Le Fay coven withdraws its support. Effective immediately,” she declares, her voice cutting through the air like a blade.

Laswell’s face blanches, her mouth opening in protest. “Surely there’s something we can discuss—”

Your Mother raises her hand sharply, silencing Laswell mid-sentence. “Enough.” Her tone is cold, final. “I’ve seen the state of things. Your judgement is clouded, and this establishment has drifted too far from what it once was.”

For years, the Le Fay coven had been her most steadfast ally. They’d depended on her just as much as she on them—a mutual pact so deeply woven it felt unbreakable. And yet, here your Mother stands, wielding her power to sever it with a single decision. She speaks with the conviction of one who knows her word is law. 

There’s no room for Laswell to manoeuvre, no path to reverse what’s been done. You watch her expression flicker from anger to desperate resolve, and finally, to a bleak resignation. She glances your way, perhaps seeking some support. But before you can even gather the strength to respond, your Mother snaps her fingers, and the effect is instantaneous. 

Laswell’s pleading expression crumbles, her gaze clearing as though an unseen fog has lifted from her mind. “I… what—” she stammers, blinking rapidly, as if seeing the room and the two of you for the first time.

“Consider this a lesson,” your Mother says with a hint of a sardonic smile. She turns sharply, her familiar trotting behind her in perfect synchronisation. You glance back at Laswell, once your friend and confidant. The desperation painted all over her face is now replaced with stunned silence. 

Without a glance towards you, your Mother’s peaks. “We’re going home.”

Her words settle over you like a sentence to exile from this place you once thought of as your real home. Though she doesn’t say it, you understand—she’s making it clear: you’ll never set foot here again. You do nothing more than nod in silent acceptance. 

The price you’ve paid feels almost unnamable, yet you bear it without a word, quietly resigning yourself to the weight of the path you’ve chosen.

banner credit

[julymusings]

will you hold me instead, and tell me that it's over now?

i look forward to a little me and you, so now i hope that you don't tell me that it's over

or; patching jason up after an intense mission [2.1k]

jason todd x fem!reader; angst/fluff; brief mentions of human trafficking and allusion to murder (he's talking about how the mission went); mention of his scars; jason being insecure & thinking he's not good enough😞; description of injuries and the first aid applied to them (please do not take anything as actual medical advice); this is me hard-launching my physical touch x touch starved!jason agenda

You don’t know how early it is when you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing, just that it’s too early. It’s not like you could sleep anyway; you spent the night drifting in and out of semi-consciousness, too worried to let yourself relax. You always got like this when Jason went away on missions. Several days, and sometimes even weeks, spent anxiously anticipating the state in which he would return home—you haven’t been able to get a manicure since before you met him.

You’re still a little delirious when a hand ghosts up your arm, stirring you from your half-sleep. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room and register the sight in front of you. Your boyfriend is on one knee on the floor in front of you, brushing strands of hair out of your face with endearing eyes.

“There she is,” he says when you lift your head off the pillow and reach out to him. He catches your hand and kisses your fingertips, spreading a warmth up your arm that combats the midnight chill. You push yourself up to a sitting position, and he takes the opportunity to cup his hands around your face and bring you in for a kiss.

“Missed you,” you mumble against him, and his lips curve upwards against yours.

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” His mouth travels up from yours towards your temple, leaving a path of gentle kisses in his wake. Your palms, pressed flat against his chest, slide up to loop around his neck. He tenses, choking back a strained grunt. But you catch it.

You pull back abruptly. “Are you hurt?” Your eyes frantically dart around, scanning his entire body. Now fully alert, you reach over to the bedside table and switch the lamp on.

“’s just a bruise, baby, I’m fine.” A hand comes up to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness. But with newly unobstructed vision, you can see more than just a bruise. He has a busted lip, a shallow gash on his temple, and splotches of purple and red peeking out of his shirt collar.

“You’re bleeding, Jason,” you chastise him, getting up off the bed.

He stands alongside you with a huff. “It’s nothing,” he sighs. “Doesn’t even hurt.” But when you take his hand and start pulling him to the bathroom, he follows without argument. You lead Jason to sit down on the edge of the tub and fetch the first aid kit from under the sink, setting it down next to him on the bathtub ledge. You stand between his legs, your positions making you a half-head taller than him. He gazes up at you and for the first time tonight you notice how dark and deep the skin under his eyes is.

“Off,” you order, dragging up the hem of his shirt. He helps you pull it off, wincing when it requires him to lift his bruised arm.

“Someone’s eager,” he muses, raising his eyebrows in a teasing manner. It earns him a swat on the arm; he grunts loudly and doubles over in pain.

You gasp. “Oh my god! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I—”

But when he looks up, it’s with a coy smirk and a twinkle in his eye. You swat him again.

“Asshole,” you mutter, but you can’t help the slight twitch at the corner of your lips. “Why didn’t you take care of this earlier? Alfred wasn’t at the manor to help you?”

He shrugs his good shoulder. “Don’t know. Came straight here.”

“Did you tell anyone where you were going?” You ask.

He looks at you blankly, as if to say, don’t you know who you’re talking to?

You sigh, exasperated. “You shouldn’t have done that, Jason. What if ended up becoming serious? And you didn’t make it here in time? What if—” 

He interrupts your doom spiral by pressing a finger to your lips. “I know, honey, I’m sorry. But I wanted to see you.”

You sigh. There’s a sadness to it, one that comes from familiarity with the fact that he does not care for himself as much as he should—as much as he deserves. But there are no words to make him believe it that you haven’t tried, so all you do is lean your forehead against his, hoping he can hear what you're not saying. You need him to hear you.

“You’re not sorry,” you whisper.

“No, I’m not,” he whispers back.

You start with his shoulder, which was decidedly not ‘just a bruise,’ but actually several bruises, all clumped together to form one giant Franken-bruise that covered his entire shoulder. It gets rubbed with ointment and you’re not sure who it pains more, because while you’re spilling out frantic apologies as you try to speed through it, Jason is white-knuckling the edge of the tub with a wad of gauze between his teeth. 

His lip doesn’t require any medical attention, but he insists you kiss it better anyway, and who are you to deny him? 

You tend to his temple last, but he’s antsy now. His leg bounces up and down, one hand is drumming its fingers on the tub, and the other is fiddling with the loose threads that hang from the hem of your shirt; you have to scold him into sitting still.

“Where’s the dermabond?” You ask, sifting through the contents of the first aid kid.

“Used it up last month, remember? After you just had to feed that fuckin’ squirrel.” His voice is gruff at the recollection. “Should be a new pack under the sink.”

You fetch the new box, picking at the plastic wrapping. “Can you blame me? He was so cute.”

“Yeah, was. Until that greedy fucker decided he wanted the whole picnic.” Jason sees you struggling with the plastic covering and takes it from you, breaks it open, then hands it back. “Bastard.”

You giggle. “You know, you could’ve just let him have the cupcake. It wasn’t worth risking rabies for.” You fish out the glass tube of surgical glue, tossing its cardboard box aside.

“‘Course it was. My girl wanted red velvet, she should get her red velvet.” Jason’s hands finally rest on the backs of your bare thighs, squeezing them lightly. He grins when that makes you let out a little squeak.

You roll your eyes, though there’s a warmth flowing in your veins that courses from the tips of your ears to the bottom of your feet. “My hero,” you muse with a smile.

There’s a pause. Then:

“I’m not a hero,” he responds. His tone is still light, but his eyes feel far away.

You start to clean the blood from the wound, which has since clotted and dried, with a saline-soaked cotton pad. He stares at you while you clean and then close the cut with the glue. And when you finish, supplies set aside and glue cured, he’s still staring. His eyes are traveling all over your face, taking in each feature, committing every ridge, every angle, every pore, every freckle to memory. The light-hearted teasing demeanor from mere moments ago is long gone. You're a deer caught in emerald headlights.

You recognize this shift. You noticed hints of it since he arrived home, but assumed it was just due to the pain. Now it’s obvious that there’s more. It’s the same shift that comes when the news becomes a circus, or when he stares at his scars in the mirror for too long.

His hands slide up your body slowly, reverently. One stops at your waist while the other continues, blazing a trail up your ribcage, over the side of your breast. He pauses at your shoulder for a split second, squeezing the flesh every so gently before continuing up your neck. His thumb drags across your collarbone, brushing against the spot that always lights up your senses and parts your lips in a breathy sigh. He stops when he reaches your face. He cups your cheek. Your hand covers his and you lean into his hold, the stroke of your small, soft fingers juxtaposing the rough callouses of his knuckles. You stay here for a moment before turning to press your lips to his palm once, twice, thrice, four times, each one lingering a little longer than the last.

“What is it, Jason?” Your hands come to cradle his neck before dragging up to his hair, and his move to wrap around your torso and pull you closer into him. You place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Hmm?”

“I’m not a hero,” he says again, softer.

“Jay,” you whisper. “You know that’s not true.”

He says nothing, only heaving a heavy sigh and burying his face into the crook of your neck. You’re content to stand like this, to simply hold him and graze your nails against his scalp for as long as he needs while he inhales the comforting scent of your skin.

After what could have been one minute or twenty, he pulls back to look up at you. He looks exhausted. “It was a human trafficking case,” he says. “They knew we were closing in on ‘em, so we had to act fast. They were…trying to…” He trails off, unsure how to put it in words delicate enough to spare you. He breaks eye contact. “Destroy the evidence,” he finishes.

You don’t respond. Despite the heavy silence that follows this admission, you know he’s not done. It takes another several minutes of stroking fingers and feather-light hairline kisses to coax it out of him.

“There was a woman. She…we didn’t—“ His voice cracks. “I didn’t get there in time.”

“Oh, honey.” You run your palm over his forehead, pushing back his thick waves. His eyelids slide down over glassy irises as he sinks into your touch. You lean down to press your lips to his forehead. “You know that’s not your fault,” you whisper. He shakes his head, eyes still closed.

“But if I’d just—”

“No, Jason.” You grip his face between your palms. He opens his eyes at the sudden sternness. “But nothing. You did everything you possibly could—”

“You don’t know that,” he interrupts.

“I do know that. I know because you are always doing everything you can. For me, and for everyone in this city. And I know that it wasn’t just you on that mission. Do you blame anyone else for what happened?”

He says nothing, but his eyes are welling with tears.

“You saved so many other people, Jason. You are a hero, and you know that. You have to know that.” Some of his tears spill over, but you brush your thumbs across his cheeks and kiss them away.

He pulls you onto his lap so your legs are straddled over his and rests his head against your sternum. His arms squeeze impossibly tight around your waist, but you don’t say anything. When his shoulders tremble and you feel the dampness on the front of your shirt, you still don’t say anything. And when he places a hand on the back of your head to pull you in for a hard, searing kiss that leaves you both breathless, you don’t say anything. You just look at him, at how pretty he is, and hope that he can hear you.

The sounds of buzzing echo in from the next room. To your dismay, he turns away, towards the direction of your phones. “I should get that,” he says. His voice is hollow. “It’s probably the bats wanting to know where I am. They’ll send a search party if I don’t check in.”

He’s about to move you off his lap, but you stop him. “In a minute, Jay.”

Jason’s forehead crinkles. You use your thumb to smooth it out.

“Please?” You breathe out. “Just let me look at you a little longer. I love looking at you.”

He relaxes back into his seat. And you keep looking at him. At his beautifully rosy cheeks and shining eyes, his puffed lips. The scar that runs diagonally down his slightly crooked nose.

It’s dawn now; the tangerine beginnings of sunrise elicit a soft glow that spills through the window. Jason takes it all in. The two of you together in the home you share, arms around each other, your face all honeyed and beautiful in the light.

And you know he can hear you.

love when you guys leave messages/feedback it really brightens up my day<3

divider is from here

[campgender]

Quim Issue #5 (1994)

[image description: a cropped image of a magazine in black and white. at the top is the question “how can you be a lesbian and sleep with boys?” echoed by the words “call yourself a lesbian.” below this are answers with different text formatting for different responses. a black and white cartoon in the bottom right corner shows two people in skirts saying “what on earth was that about?” “haven’t a clue.”

the responses read:

I hardly ever actually slept with them. Of course you can and many of us do. Having sex with men is a diversion I allow myself every 6-8 years. They become more exciting by being forbidden.

I am a lesbian because of the people I choose to live my life with. Occasionally fucking a man doesn’t change that.

I don’t, I call myself bisexual.

My lesbianism means that I am only physically, mentally and emotionally attracted to women. Though I have had good one-off sex with men in the past, that’s as far as it goes. As far as sexual relationships go they don’t feature.

The few occasions I have done it I have had no problem dealing with it at all. I know I’m a dyke – and one of the benefits of being a dyke is having the choice and occasion to do what the hell you like. If I want to shag a bloke then I will (if nothing else to remind me why I never really wanted to sleep with them in the first place!)

If I was interested enough to commit myself to getting good sex with men, there’d come a point when I’d call myself bi-sexual. Anything I engage and put myself into is something to be proud of, so I’d be proud to call myself bi-sexual. But I don’t feel proud of what I have ever felt or done with men in bed, so the label doesn’t apply.

Easy. I am a lesbian and I sleep with guys every once in a while. Which I know many dykes do but they’re just too scared to admit thinking that women will see them in a different light. Most dykes get the 7 year itch even when they don’t admit it to themselves.

I can’t see a way of sleeping with a man/men on a regular basis and calling yourself a lesbian.

Easy.

I can fall in love with women in a matter of minutes. I have never fallen for a man in the same way.

end image description.]

[elliehase-blog]

We're simply meant to be

I just had to write something about them. ❤️💜 This time it's longer than usual, and not proofread (sorry) but if you enjoy this little piece, you can read the rest on AO3.

~*~

In the afternoon, Roman is still quite relaxed. He polishes the blade of his sword, humming verses of Sally’s song. Hey, why not? He is only 51% sure that this is a kind of date tonight. It’s not as if Virgil was in any way clear with his all-but-nothing sentence.

»You're right, Roman. We can live like Jack and Sally if we want to.«

There. The word 'date' has not been used in any form.

Virgil had laughed at this point, to Roman’s utter bewilderment. A delightful little laugh that took up all of his attention and everything else outside had ceased to exist. And of course Roman had not known how to help himself other than to take the whole thing to the next level.

»And sit together, now and forever,« he had said, and had taken Virgil’s hands carefully in his. In this moment, Roman had only felt his heart pounding against his ribs in a whirling drum solo.

After that, Virgil had turned away in embarrassment and mumbled something that sounded like, »See you later.«

So maybe it is a date after all.

Perhaps.

(It’s certainly not.)

For seconds Roman bites his fingernails helplessly. He had seen so many cheesy romance movies in his life that he liked to consider himself an expert in the field. There was nothing to surprise him, as he knew all the signs and all the rules. And if you can no longer rely on cheesy romantic movies, then what?

But somehow all these rules never apply to Virgil.

How did they get here in the first place? Aren't they supposed to argue and fight like in the good old days? Sometimes, Roman likes to picture the deep, passionate rivalry he and Virgil have for each other. He imagines them having endless discussions about Disney characters, staring at each other in a fiery way. And when no one is around, Roman sighs deeply and longingly at this point and buries his heated face in velvety soft red silk pillows.

In the evening, Roman takes a look at his imaginary wardrobe and starts hyperventilating. He’s never had a no-date before. With nobody.

He has no idea what to wear and if he has any piece of clothing that says, 'When you look at me, I can’t breathe, and whenever you’re around me, I talk a lot more nonsense than usual, but if this is a date, I’d be totally fine with it.'

Lately, Virgil had just been too nice and peaceful around him. He means, nice… within the scope of his limited possibilities. Roman can’t say that this is terribly unpleasant, it’s just very… irritating. He has to do something. Or rather, he has to delegate this problem very quickly so that someone else does it for him.

Roman was great at delegating. This talent was practically innate. That's why he calls Logan.

»We have a… situation,« Roman explains dramatically. »I don't know what to wear!«

Logan throws a 'What do you want from me?' look at him. He raises his eyebrows wordlessly and completely unimpressed and makes absolutely no attempt to move even a millimetre from the spot.

»C’mon, Teach, I need your advice here!«

Usually, Logan would not have been his first choice in terms of clothing and taste, but he also has that unclouded and focused sight that Roman needed right now.

»Pleeeaaase!«

Logan sighs and Roman strongly assumes that this is supposed to mean agreement. Probably, Roman had convinced him with his astute argumentation and natural authority. That, or Logan, for once just doesn’t think a discussion is worth the trouble.

»What's the occasion?« he asks without further ado, pushing his glasses up in an unconscious gesture.

»Something… important,« Roman says vaguely.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for inkwell behind the cut; “Billy and Damian and the whole soulmate thing”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Like–except Robin, obviously. Robin doesn’t deserve him being spiteful. Robin deserves, like, a nice wedding with Nightwing as his best man and Red Robin, like, definitely invited but maybe seated at a table off to the side behind a tactically-placed floral arrangement or twelve and also whatever Robin likes to eat on the menu, which Billy admittedly doesn’t actually know yet and probably needs to figure out. Though then again, if he’s running away from the Justice League and/or Batman’s weird seventeen-bedroomed house until he’s eighteen, Robin’s tastes are probably gonna change a bit, so maybe he should just wait on that so he can be sure he’s getting it right and all? 

Ugh. Billy really doesn’t wanna have to run away from the Justice League until he’s eighteen. Especially not Batman. Batman’s really good at finding people, so he’s basically just gonna have to hide out at the Rock of Eternity for like the whole time, and that is so long and is gonna get so boring so quick. 

Ugh. Ughhh. Ugh. 

“Where was that? Laws about supplying alcohol to a minor vary significantly from state to state,” Batman says as Flash slithers to the floor with an actual moan. Billy glowers at him. He is still not forgiving him just ‘cuz he’s funny. “And felony charges can apply to repeat offenders."

. . . alright, Batman’s really funny. But still, dammit! 

“Bats, I really don’t think accidentally buying a drink for a magically-disguised minor three years ago is the relevant concern here,” Green Lantern says in exasperation. 

“You said you took him to multiple bars,” Batman says, just barely tilting his head. “Was that the only time any of you bought him a drink?” 

“I–you–he looks like forty!” Green Lantern protests. Flash just stays on the floor. 

Batman raises an eyebrow behind his mask, then looks over at Billy and looks him over; then looks back to Green Lantern with a very telling expression. Green Lantern sputters indignantly. 

“Stop being funny, asshole, I’m still gonna be mad even if you are,” Billy grumbles at Batman, who just makes the same little “hm” noise he always does when he’s feeling particularly smug about a joke he’s made. Billy scowls at him on principle. 

Asshole. Geez, like Billy’s new here or something. 

“Father, this is hardly professional behavior,” Robin says, giving Batman a withering look. 

“God, I will never understand what kids even think Bats is saying,” Green Arrow mutters under his breath, half-covering his face with a hand and eyeing Robin through his fingers. “Listen, Cap–Billy–” 

“Excuse you?” Billy asks, scowling at him instead. “You think we’re on a first-name basis while you guys are threatening me?” 

“Listen, brat, I am also a licensed foster parent, and Star is closer to Fawcett than Gotham is, so I in fact am threatening you,” Green Arrow retorts, narrowing his eyes at him. “And there’s eight bedrooms in my house.” 

“That is not a house!” Billy says. “That’s literally not a house, that’s like a hotel! Why do none of you just have houses?!” 

“A motel, perhaps,” Robin drawls, eyeing Green Arrow disdainfully. 

“I am not living with anyone, I’m fine,” Billy emphasizes with a glower. “I’ve been fine all this time, haven’t I?”

“. . . Billy,” Superman says, looking stressed. “How long have you been homeless, exactly?” 

“Since I was like seven,” Billy says, since he doesn’t count any of the in-and-out foster care nonsense as not being homeless, considering. That’d just been a bunch of shitty places he’d had to sneak out of or run away from, not actually anywhere he’d ever really lived. Mostly he’d slept in abandoned buildings or alleys or parks, ‘cuz it’d been safer. “So I’m fine, obviously.” 

“Since you were seven,” Superman repeats, looking stressed. 

“That’s what I said,” Billy says in exasperation, folding his arms again and glowering at him. “And I didn’t even have superpowers then and still took care of myself fine, so I’m double-fine now, actually.” 

Superman puts his face in his hands, for some reason. Black Canary pats his back sympathetically.

Billy does not think Superman deserves sympathy right now.

[puck-luck]

hey girly! congrats on 1k 🥳 for the 1k celly, can I request 8 of clubs with Luke Hughes? 🫶🏻

Warnings: choking (duh), dom!luke, degredation, possessive luke WC: 638

“I’m tired of hearing you talk back,” Luke snarls, a deep frown marring his features as he pounds into you. “Fucking brat. You think you’re in charge here? You think you can tell me what to do?”

“No,” you reply weakly, the force of his thrusts making you struggle to stay on all fours like he had asked. Your elbows keep failing, bending, and your ‘talking back’ had just been a frustrated wail of “Luke, I can’t–”

Well, Luke doesn’t like it when you “can’t” do something, especially when that something is a command from him. When you submit to him, he wants you to fully obey his words. There’s no “can’t.” You will do what he says, no matter what. That’s just the way this works. In bed, you listen. You’re his sub. 

“That’s what I thought,” Luke says. He’s probably grinding his teeth together. You can tell just from the sound of his voice– it’s tighter, like he’s doing everything in his power to stave off his release. His fingers are leaving bruises on your hips, pulling you back onto his cock each time he fucks into you. 

On a particularly satisfying thrust, the tip of his cock badgering the magic, spongy spot inside of you, your elbows give out again. Disheartened, overwhelmed, and completely unable to muster the energy to try again, you bury your face in the mattress and fist the sheets beneath you. There are tears beading at the edge of your eyes and your cunt is contracting with the effort to hold off until Luke tells you to come, not to mention the mewls that are leaking from your mouth like a faulty dam. 

Luke scoffs, slowing his movements. He takes you by the hair with one hand, slinging his other around your middle and pulling you up so that your body can rest against his. The skin to skin contact is welcome and calms you, if only slightly.

You sink back against him, using him as a crutch. Your head rolls back on his shoulder, turned slightly towards his neck because you just need to face him. You need to be as close to him as possible. 

Luke brings a hand up to your neck, enveloping the column of skin and applying light pressure. It’s not enough to make it hard to breathe, but you know he’s there. He leaves you wanting more, but he’s teasing you, dangling your fulfillment just out of reach. He’s displaying his power, demonstrating how useless you are when it comes to him. 

His other hand finds your left, then right wrists. He clasps them in front of you, then he starts to move his hips again. He starts slow.

“You always need me to do the work,” Luke chides softly, his tone only slightly warmer than before. He’s resetting a bit, making sure you’re okay. “You’re just my helpless baby, aren’t you?”

You nod, movements slightly stilted because of his big hand and the way it squeezes the sides of your throat.

“Give me a word,” Luke says. “You want me to make you come? You want to make a mess on my cock?”

“Mhm,” you whine, high in the back of your throat. “Luke.”

“So compliant,” Luke acknowledges, sounding smug. He kisses your cheek, upping the tempo of his hips. “Look how sweet you are once I get my hand around you. You like it when I choke you, baby?”

“Love it,” you agree before you keen again. Luke still has your wrists in his grip, but somehow, with his long, long fingers, he’s able to stroke your clit in tandem with his thrusts.

“Mm, I love it too,” he says, still smirking. “I like you so much better with my hand around your throat. You’re all mine when my fingers replace your necklace.”

[dazzlerwriting]

cowboy take me away

j.seresin x reader

pictures not mine, credits to pinterest

1k words

summary: sort of inspired by “Cowboy Take Me Away” by The Chicks. (great song you should check it out!) what was supposed to be a celebratory night, turns into reader sitting alone at a bar in texas. that is until a blonde aviator, visiting home, notices her.

Warnings: fluff! reader has not great friends. talks about an ex boyfriend. Alcohol consumption. Jake Seresin being a charming man? She/her pronouns are used and reader is said to be shorter than jake! no use of y/n!

authors note: first fic!! lmk what you think!

Sitting alone in a bar in the middle of Austin, Texas was not how you thought your Saturday was going to go. You had recently graduated from University of Texas in Austin so you thought you would be out with your boyfriend and friends, celebrating the fact that you were finally going to go to the University of California San Diego to get your masters in Educational Studies. But you just broke up with your boyfriend due to his extreme lack of interest in your relationship. He literally shrugged when you told him it was over. On top of that your friends seemingly forgot that you had plans, go figure.

So now you were sitting in some bar, under the soft disco lighting, with cowboy hats everywhere, fiddling with the straw in your drink, wondering how it could all go sour so fast.

“Is this seat taken?” a strong voice with a southern drawl asked. You whipped your head so fast you thought you could see the looney tunes birds flying, but no, what you saw was a man with sandy blonde hair and eyes that could rival the trees in the Ozarks. “Oh! Um N-no. No, it’s not.” He took his seat with a devilish smirk and waved down the bartender to order another drink for himself. While doing so you missed the part where he ordered you another drink. You were too busy roaming your eyes from the black Stetson that sat on top of his head, to the shirt that said “US Navy” & “H_ngm_n” on the pocket, and finally to the steel-toed cowboy boots that sat on his feet.

You heard a cough, and that’s when you realized he had been talking to you and was a bit closer now. Get it together he just asked a simple question and you just got out of a relationship, you scolded yourself. “Sorry, sorry what did you say?”

The smirk on his face just grows a bit bigger while replying, “I was just asking why a pretty girl like you looks so defeated in the most lively bar in all of Austin?”

Great. He’s charming and astute apparently. Now you can either lie to this very handsome man, or you can become the stereotypical person who dumps everything at the bar. Saved by the bell, or bartender in this case, because he delivers the drinks to you both, making the smirk on this man’s face slide to a polite smile, and also giving you a sense of reprieve at this moment.

“I’m Jake by the way, sorry if the question was too intense for an introduction. Can’t help but be curious.” You give him your name and the smirk is back way too quickly. “Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he replied, his smirk turning to a kind smile. “Does that work on all of the girls?” you snap back quickly. He looks a bit taken aback by the question, but that doesn’t deter him one bit, “Wouldn’t know, did it work on you?”

Sighing you finally turn to face him fully, taking in his form once again. After the day you’ve had, you decide you’ll entertain him for a bit, “Ya know what cowboy, it might’ve but don’t let that get to your head. We don’t need that cowboy hat to fall off.” Jake takes you in for a minute and gives you a smile that might be the sweetest thing you’ve seen in a bit. “So you gonna tell me why you’re lookin’ all sad in the middle of this bar?” he asks you once again, and you finally decide you need to at least tell someone or you might cry. So with your head down and while fidgeting with your hands, you tell him, “I just got accepted into the master’s program I applied for and to celebrate I was gonna meet my boyfriend and friends here. As you can see neither are here. I broke up with him and my friends all forgot or something, who knows.” You finally take a breath and look back up to see him looking at you with the slightest hint of concern.

He shakes his head and laughs gently. “Well, I guess congratulations are in order for the graduate, and for getting rid of the boyfriend who didn’t appreciate the beauty in his life.” With a soft smile, he tips his beer towards you and you do the same.

He abruptly stands up and holds out his hand, a silent question for a dance. You take it with a quizzical look on your face, and he drags you to the middle of the dance floor; now that you’re there, you look around and see that this place has cleared out a bit since you first got here. He looks down at you with a bit of adoration and says “A congratulatory dance is a necessity.”

He grabs your hips, while you wrap your arms around his neck, and it’s at this moment you realize that you would much rather be here, wrapped in this stranger’s arms, dancing to “Cowboy Take Me Away” than in the silence that your ex would’ve given. Looking at Jake with a smirk on your face, “The song is real fitting if you ask me, cowboy.” Your fingers are playing with the soft hair at the bottom of his head, and for a second it’s like a cat reacting to someone scratching their head. You’d be shocked if he didn’t start purring.

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed,” he replies with a soft chuckle. Looking into each other’s eyes, you stand on your toes, and you both lean in… but of course, nothing would go as planned. His cowboy hat hits you right in the forehead.

You pull back from each other and both break out into a fit of giggles. Jake looks at you with a soft smile, tips his cowboy hat back, and leans in again. This time your lips meet in a delicate kiss, his lips are soft and you can smell a hint of cologne on him. Warmth fills your cheeks, the kiss lasting only a matter of seconds, but it's just enough time for everything around you to disappear. When the kiss is over, your foreheads meet and you both continue swaying under the reflected disco lighting. Maybe tonight is way better than you originally planned.

[wisted-twunderland]

What’s in the TWST boys’ makeup bags?

I love that many of the guys in Twisted Wonderland wear makeup and that it’s so normalized. That made me wonder: what’s in their makeup bags?

Ace: Before coming to Night Raven College, he thought wearing makeup was girly. Upon seeing so many of the guys in his dorm wearing it, he decided to give it a try. Uses a red eyeliner pen for his signature heart near his eye.

Deuce: The spade near his eye is actually made with a makeup stamp, since the shape is difficult to get right freehand. He has a minimal skincare routine and often forgets to wash his face, but tries to remember because in his mind, honor students have skincare routines.

Cater: has a lot of half used products lying around, because he always goes out and buys whatever is currently popular on Magicam. Doesn’t leave his room without BB cream.

Trey: Doesn’t wear a ton of makeup, but he does enjoy wearing it from time to time. Honestly he spends more time and energy on dental hygiene. (???)

Riddle: Applies his eyeliner with precision and blends out his eyeshadow perfectly every single day. He likes makeup because he thinks it makes him look more mature.

Leona: Can’t be bothered to wear a ton of makeup everyday, but he does know how to apply it, being a prince. When he does go all out, he likes a smoky eyeshadow and black mascara.

Ruggie: The only makeup he owns is a dried up black eyeliner pen he got out of the clearance bin at Sam’s to wear with his ceremonial robes. He swears it’s perfectly good and it still has product inside, you just have to soak the tip in water for a couple of minutes.

Jack: Doesn’t care much for makeup, but he is a stickler for sunscreen use. He uses one that matches his skin tone and smells like coconut.

Azul: uses more makeup than you might think by just looking at him. He always does his base makeup and likes to use dark purple eyeliner to match his dorm uniform when he is running the Monstro Lounge. His contour is nearly undetectable but if he didn’t wear it you’d notice right away.

Jade: Uses a thin black eyeliner pen to create a shrewd cat eye look. His lips are always moisturized and he always has a high end lip balm in his suitcoat pocket.

Floyd: Thinks makeup is boring. His lips are chapped and the skin on his face tends to be dry and patchy. He claims it’s because he’s a merman living on land but the truth is he just doesn’t care.

Jamil: Putting on makeup every morning before Kalim wakes up is Jamil’s “me” time. His eyeliner game is strong and his contour is on point.

Kalim: He likes sparkly eyeshadows, but Jamil always ends up helping him blend it out. When he does wear eyeliner he is constantly smearing it and Jamil is constantly redoing it.

Vil: His makeup routine is extensive and full of high end products, but Vil can get it done in 15 minutes flat. His skin care routine, however, is another story and the whole process takes 45 minutes, including drying time.

Rook: loves a gradient blended eyeshadow. Draws his eyebrows on every morning after plucking them into oblivion in a fit of passion in his quest for beauty.

Epel: still thinks makeup is kind of for sissies and not manly, but he is starting to change his tune and enjoy it more. Has a bag full of products Vil instructed him to buy and taught him how to use. When he tries to sneak out without it on Vil sends him back to his room and makes him wear it.

Idia: Ortho bought him an under eye concealer for the dark circles under his eyes due to late night raids, but he has never used it. Owns several unopened eyeshadow palettes from crossovers with his favorite anime. He also has several pairs of colored contacts for cosplay, but he has never worn them outside his room.

Ortho: His silicone skin is incredibly high quality and makeup can be applied just like human skin. He likes to apply some cheeky blush from time to time to give himself a more lifelike appearance.

Malleus: Has an extensive collection of makeup, mostly dark eyeshadow palettes. Being raised by Lillia, he has been able to apply a perfect smoky eye since he was only 100. His nails really are naturally black, no polish, but he does file them and apply a shiny clear top coat.

Lilia: Has a huge bag full of cheap eyeshadow palettes that he likes to play with. Doesn’t leave the house without eyeliner.

Silver: wears makeup, although you can barely tell, since he keeps it very natural and minimal. Is very conscientious about only using brands that do not experiment in animals.

Sebek: uses a minimal amount of makeup to look put together; uses excessive amounts of hair gel. He even gels his eyebrows to make them that shape.

BONUS

Grim: washes his face twice a day with his own spit.

[huntingrays]

quick valgrace drabble bc jason deserves to be a dramatic bf (as a treat!)

“Leo,” a familiar voice whined from behind Leo.

Leo fought off a smile as he turned his head from his blueprints on his desk to look over at his boyfriend.

Leo often compared his boyfriend – Jason Grace – to a dog. He thought this was a very accurate comparison. However, there wasn’t just one dog breed that could fully capture what Jason was like. Like an onion, Jason had layers.

There were moments when Jason was like a wolf. This made a lot of sense since he was raised by Lupa when he was young. This was a side of him that most people saw.

There were moments when Jason was like a golden retriever. Only Leo and his closest friends got to see this side of him. Leo knew how much of an affectionate dork his boyfriend was, but he was surprised by how much he truly was like a golden retriever once they started dating. He would cling to Leo, follow him around, and would beam whenever he saw Leo enter a room.

Then, there were moments like this that only Leo saw. There were moments when Jason let himself be a silly teenage boy. There were moments when Jason displayed dramaticness that could rival that of a husky.

“What’s up, bro?” Leo asked. He observed Jason’s face with a smile, knowing precisely how he’d react to his boyfriend calling him ‘bro’ as a pet name.

Jason reacted exactly as he always did. He let out a small huff as his nose scrunched up. Leo suppressed a laugh at it. Jason decided to set that aside and let out a long, dramatic sigh. He truly matched the energy that dogs had when they sighed as if they just worked a 9-5.

“Leo, come to bed,” Jason whined, reaching out an arm toward Leo.

Leo shifted so he was sitting sideways in his chair and rested his arms over the back of it. Leo rarely got to see dramatic Jason Grace so he’d take his time to relish in it and tease him. “Can’t it wait? I’m very busy right now.”

Jason scowled, a pout threatening to form on his very kissable lips. “I’m your boyfriend. I’m the most important thing in your life, so I should come first.”

Leo couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of his throat at that. He knew that Jason tended to doubt himself and his importance to his friends and lover, so he was glad he could bring it up in moments like these, even if it was to be dramatic and clingy.

“Well, you’re right about that,” Leo said with a teasing lilt in voice. “But you’re always telling me I need to focus on my work more. Now you’re trying to get me to stop because of what you want? You’re a horrible influence, Grace.”

“That doesn’t apply now,” Jason replied with a small huff. “You’ve been working for so long,” it’s been ten minutes, “and I want to cuddle with my boyfriend. You can stop working for a cuddle break. Besides, this is more important and urgent. If you don’t cuddle with me, I will shrivel up and die. Do you want me to die, Valdez?”

“You’ll die?” Leo asked with a laugh. He reached over to his desk to set his pencil down. “I don’t think that’s scientifically possible.”

“It is,” Jason replied huffily. “It’s been medically proven that if you don’t cuddle with your boyfriend when he’s in desperate need of cuddles, then he will die. You can ask Will, he will say I’m right. You have to give me my medically required cuddles before I die.”

It was crazy how a seventeen-year-old boy who was over six feet tall, muscular, and once beat a titan with his bare hands could look so cute. When he saw Jason like this, he felt a thrill of pride and possessiveness that only he got to see him like this. He was the only one who experienced his playful, dramatic side and got to witness the slight pout on his lips or the way he whined for attention.

With a small chuckle, Leo finally stood up and walked over to the bed. “Of course, 'cause Will would never lie about that. Well, I guess I’ll cuddle with you to heal you. It’d be so inconvenient to have to get a new boyfriend. I’m far too lazy for that.”

Jason seemed too happy at the prospect of cuddles to be annoyed by Leo’s comment. He held up the blanket enough for Leo to climb over the covers with him. Leo did just that. Once he was close, Jason wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close.

“I love you,” Jason told him, nothing but pure affection and adoration in his voice.

”I know,” Leo replied, laughing and amusement in his voice.

Jason pouted. Leo couldn’t have that so he leaned in, kissing him. They had a lot of kisses over their relationship, but these were Leo’s favorites. It was sweet, slow, and full of all the love they had for each other. Leo made sure he showed through the kiss just how much he loved Jason, how much he meant to him.

When he pulled away, he cupped Jason’s cheeks, looking into those beautiful blue eyes. “I love you too.” Even if he showed Jason how much he loved him, he liked to be an overachiever at times. He wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to both show and tell Jason that he loved him.

Leo was terrible at remembering things. Thanks to his ADHD, he had both a terrible attention span and an awful memory. He could meet someone new and forget their name within five minutes. He could remember something insignificant like what types were strong against others in Pokemon but forget the date of an upcoming important exam. Leo’s memory was shit.

However, he knew he’d remember the smile that Jason gave him for the rest of his life.

[ethereal555]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY.

angst x jobe bellingham.

You’ve never seen Jobe act this way before. We had just finished our dinner at Hakkasan which started off lovely; you'd both missed each other to bits. It started when Jobe expressed his confusion about the amount our waiter spoke to me, the way in which he spoke and looked at me and definetly didnt like the fact I was slighly enthusiatic in return when the mans questions regarding my profession. And no matter how many times i'd tell Jobe, that 'it's common decency' it fell upon deaf ears every time.

In situations such as these which occured often, he'd be a baby about it and whine about how all the men we come across were always infactuated with me and how it wasn't fair because I am his and his only. Or he'd tell me to be more blunt and harsh in my rejections. At least he was communicating with me..

But this time, it was an intense silence on the way back home, a silence that left your mind unsettled.

-

You both made your way back to his black Audi. Your gaze frequently shifting from the side profile and then to the floor as you internally prepared yourself to rectify this issue before it got out of hand.

Your gaze landed on Jobe again only to see his sharp jawline prominent due to the extent of which he was tensing it. Tensed hard enough to break glass. You also noticed his walking pace quickening by the second, another telling sign of the volcanic eruption brewing within him.

“J, you’re going too fast can you hold my hand please?” you whined. You knew he wasn’t in the mood for that and definitely had other things on his mind but he did it anyway reaching his long arm back and in doing so not sparing me a glance. Your rolled your eyes, hard.

You latched onto his hand making your way back to the car at a decent speed this time. Thank God.

Everytime you both were at a social event, there would always be an odd circunstance that occurs leaving one of you jealous, disheartened or upset. Jobe was the usual culprit; you had told your man for what felt like the uptenneth times that you were an attractive girl, men were bound to stop and stare and wink and do whatever they desired and the same applied to him. But you also told him, there would never be any reciprocation from your side; which you expected him to trust. Simply saying thank you to compliments would suffice. Just common decency that you'd been taught growing up- it wasn't going to change. It baffled you as you'd never given him any slack throughout your 3 year relationship about any of the thousands of fangirls that were overbearring and desperate around him. You trusted him, and you were secure.

This time, you think it hit harder for him because it was supposed to be an especially romantic date; as you both had been apart for 5 months in different countries for work purposes - so you did sympathize slightly.

You halt in your tracks, consequently making Jobe's walking stop. He looks back at you, unimpressed. You smile at him sweetly, leaning up to kiss his mouth. 'Please don't be mad at me. Baby, I've missed you so much and I want us spend quality time tonight. I really enjoyed dinner and I want to enjoy.. you later.' you whine as you pepper wet kisses over his jawline and neck. Hoping he'd leave this atttitude in the resturant and not bring it home with us.

You see his adam's apple move up and down, he beckons with his head 'Get in the car, Tee', pushing at your waist.

You both get to the car, and to your surprise he doesn’t open the door for you, like he usually does. He goes straight to the drivers seat and sits.

You scoff entering from your side of the car, slamming it shut once you were in.

“Listen Jobe. Bellingham. Don’t let your jealousy get you fucked up. I don’t give a toss if you're pissed , especially because of how stupid it is. You’re still my man. So act right.” You scold mushing his head with your index and middle finger.

He moves his head away from your hands.

“Stop - don’t touch meh or ya walking home, crazy girl”

“Get the lad in 'er to rush over and open the door for ya, and 'em lads you like to entertain. Desperate” He said gesturing towards the waiter who was now serving some guests who were seated outside.

You look at him dumbfounded. Mouth wide open.

'I could.. Jobe.. i could spit on your right now, how dare you..?'.

'Try it' he dares, an inferno arising in his chest.

“Y-You're really upset because I was being a decent human being. You’re a child you know that right? and you're fucking childish and immature and direspectful as fuck” you spat.

“That’s great actually - fucking brilliant - because I’d rather be a child than be a fucking flirt that hasn’t a self aware bone in their body” he humours, driving out of the parking lot.

It felt like your heart dropped.

“A flirt? When did I flirt?” I questioned hysterically. I understand Jobe was jealous , and had those tendencies, but to say I was entertaining another man was absurd and not in my character.

You start to shake your feet, attempting to distract yourself from this recongizable feeling. The heat you felt rising from your chest racing toward your throat, your cheeks burning and your eyes stinging. No, you thought, I'm not giving him the satisfaction.

'Stop the car', you cry. Struggling to get your phone our of your back, that was placed by your feet and underneath the dashboard.

Your voice betraying you.

'N-now, Jobe, I can't anymore' you shake your head continously.

'Ya can't do what?", his face softeneing for this first time as he briefly turns to look at you. He pulls into a side road and removes his seatbelt turning to face you. Rubbing his hands over his face as if I was the one stressing him out.

You chuckle bitterly 'that's the only thing you've listened to, this whole ride', your vision and your thoughts become blurry so you carefully remove the accumulated tears from your eyes as you try and call an uber, not wanting to pull any of your clusters out.

Jobe cradles your face when his left hand, you react as if his hand was a bowl of scorthching hot oil.

'If ya must ya can call the uber later, just look at me'.

You knew he hated to see you cry, that was his kryptonite, no matter how bad the arguement is.

His right had catches your other cheek until he has encaptured the entirety of your face within his palms. He stares, looking deep into your eyes, for what felt like minutes. maybe searching for words to say, accountability maybe.. you anticipated an apology ..

“Ya do this all the time me love.."

'what jobe, what i do?' you croak

'ya cry when I tell ya the truth, baby, ya know I don’t lie', he pecks the corner of your lips.

You break away and look at him through your now damp lash clusters and teary eyes.

my man my man my mf man

'make up your mind' - chris brown inspo kinda

i hate a nigga that doesnt take accountability btw.

[bullet-prooflove]

Five Years Gone: Neron 'Creeper' Vargas x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @est1887 @anime-weeb-4-life @creativitybeware @mortal--soul @spaghettificationandpretzels @redpoodlern @lexondeck @librarian1002 @thanossexual @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @adaydreamaway08 @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb

Brothers!Series:

Brothers - Neron's brother threatens his sobriety.

Wide Awake - Neron regrets his decision.

Out of Sight - Neron asks you a favour.

Slow Burn - Neron and you watch it burn.

Neron lets you sleep in; you usually need the rest after you’ve worked the convention circuit. It’s been three days of solid tattooing, of late nights and early mornings and that’s not including the travel to and from San Diego, the packing and unpacking of your equipment.

Currently you’re splayed out across the bed, tangled up in his sheets. You’re wearing his black wifebeater from last night and boy boxers that hug your ass just right. Your tattoos are on display, that beautiful artwork etched into your skin.

As he leans in the bedroom doorway, his coffee mug in his hand he can’t help but think how lucky he is. His world was dark, barren before he met you and now it’s a sea of colour.

There’s a rap on his front door and he frowns because it’s six in the morning and everyone else he knows it getting ready for work or sleeping. The last person he expects to see is his brother Mateo. He hasn’t spoken to the other man since he’d kicked him out for bringing coke into his home. Something he had vehemently denied until Neron had held up the vial.

His face is a bloody mask, he clutches his ribs as he practically falls through Neron’s door, spilling into the hallway. His palm comes to rest on the cream wall leaving a crimson handprint in its wake.

It’s as Neron cleans up Mateo in the kitchen that the story begins to unfold. Mateo’s in deep with his dealer, he owes 10k after his product got jacked last week and Salvadore Ortiz isn’t feeling forgiving. Neron gets the impression that this isn’t the first time that Mateo’s disappointed the drug lord. If he doesn’t pay up though it’ll be his last.

“I can’t help you.” He tells his brother as he applies the butterfly stitches to the cuts above his brow.

He isn’t lying, the last time he’d fallen off the wagon he’d blew through every single dollar of his savings. He’s just finished paying off Taza and Riz for his last two stints in rehab.

“I can.”

His heart fucking sinks when he lifts his head and sees you standing in the doorway. He doesn’t want you involved in this side of his life, cleaning up Mateo’s messes, having your sobriety challenged.

It comes with conditions; you tell Mateo as you pull on one of Neron’s hoodies and tie your hair back so you can retrieve the money from the safe at the tattoo shop. As soon as he’s paid his dealer, he checks himself into rehab. You’ll set it up but he has to meet you back here later in the day, you’ll walk him in yourself.

In that moment Neron doesn’t think he could love you more, because your compassion, it isn’t just reserved for him, it extends to his fucked-up family as well. As he watches his brother depart with the money, Neron thinks he might just do it this time. That Mateo will finally get himself clear of all the shit he’s involved in, and they can be brothers again.

He hopes for it as the two of you sit in his living room that night, watching the clock and waiting for Mateo to show. By the time midnight comes around Neron knows it’s over, that his brother has taken your money and used it to go on a bender.

“I’m sorry.” He tells you, rubbing his hands over his exhausted features. “He took you money, your trust…”

“We both know how hard it is,” You remind him as you sit down alongside of him. “You have to want to get clean and Mateo, he just doesn’t.”

The worst part is he knows that you did this for him, to give him back some connection to the family that he’s lost through addiction. His parents, his brother, himself, every single one of them has been tainted with it. The guilt cripples him. It eats away at his soul as he lies beside you that night, because you’re so wonderful and pure and he’s poison. He’s the toxin that’s bleeding into your life and you don’t even realise it.

It's the next day that he gets a visit from the police and the news, it devastates him. They found Mateo’s body in a motel outside of Santo Padre, a needle still in his arm. An O.D they tell him.

When he identifies his brother, he feels that numbness creeping in because Neron realises for the first time in his life he’s completely alone. His family is gone, eradicated by the illness that’s plagued them for generations.

The next night he finds himself sitting in a bar near the motel where Mateo died. He orders a vodka, watching as the clear liquid swirls around the glass before he throws his head back and drains it completely.

Five years of sobriety…

Gone, just like that.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[aeraspais]

Do you think there's a reason why Buck hasn't said the word bisexual on the show? Like a narrative reason?

I spitballed a take yesterday afternoon on fka Twitter. I suspect that Buck doesn’t know which label is “correct.” He rushed through so many milestones in order to date Tommy that he neglected himself in the process. The date established a few different things, but I believe what matters most is that Buck didn’t tell the woman who was flirting with him he was on a date. He also feels like he couldn't even glance back. Buck’s also fairly argumentative that it felt out-of-character that he let Maddie’s “turned gay” comment at dispatch. I don’t think he truly understands his placement in the queer community yet, which is okay, he’s young and still figuring things out himself. And that’s why Tommy broke up with Buck. He saw right through him. Buck doesn’t like Tommy but they were having fun and after a rude awakening Josh gave him, Buck applied the wrong lesson by asking Tommy to move in order to show he can look pass the heart Tommy caused Abby. It was an insincere gesture made by a lovable fool who’s momentarily afraid of examining what it means to like both women and men. Buck doesn’t know how to act bc he's a Kinsey 2, whose soulmate happens to be a man. Deep down he knows this but hasn't found the means to express it — nonetheless “bisexual.” He’s still very much bisexual. It doesn’t have to be an even split.

[lila-rae]

Solve a debate because my husband thinks I’m making this up

[thetismcave]

Y’know, I see a lot of fan works touch on Vash not taking care of himself (which is absolutely true and valid) but more specifically, hiding wounds. And that got me thinking.

Vash probably had to be very sensible to have survived on his own in an unwelcoming wasteland for a over a century, and I think it should show. You don’t last that long only on luck, or by being stupid.

So have some Vash thoughts and headcanons :)

Vash, before he met the reporters, usually traveled alone, in an endless desert, usually encountering hostile people both on the go and in town. So I headcanon that he absolutely responds to threats to his safety by isolating. If he’s hurt, he can’t just stop and patch himself up while getting run down, he needs to get to safety first. And with his life, being safe means being alone. Unfortunately, traveling with people means that safety condition is rarely met, which sucks because Vash has had over a century of that instinct being drilled into him by his environment.

And this long term isolation and alienation probably left other marks too! Things like hyper-vigilance due to having to watch his own back and needing to be awake and fighting in a moments notice, or a weird relationship with touch, both averse and starved of it since friendly human contact is a rarity for him.

Also, yk how masking takes energy? I imagine it’s also exhausting for Vash to put on a charade all the time, especially since now he has a lot less time alone to just be and recharge. I imagine that it kind of slowly melts away as he gets more tired, almost slow enough to go unnoticed (almost).

Another thing! I think there’s a difference between wanting to think the best of people and actually trusting them, and I think Vash absolutely has made that distinction. Just because he wants good things for the people holding the guns, doesn’t mean he won’t dodge their bullets, yk?

So I hc that this absolutely applied to the reporters and WW when they first met. He likes them and their company, but he also doesn’t just give out all his information to Meryl and Roberto. And even though he doesn’t believe Wolfwood to be a somebody that enjoys killing, Vash still gets tense for a moment when he realizes he lost track of Wolfwood.

Overall, I think it would be interesting to see fics that explore the effects Vash’s lifestyle would have on his behavior and reactions! :D