#𐌕𐌉𐌊𐌉 ᯓᡣ𐭩

[tiki-was-here]

Had a dream where I was two seconds away from banging thanos but then he thought it would be sexy to light a cig while looking directly into my eyes and he proceeded to somehow light the bedsheets on fire

[tiki-was-here]

Most Valuable Possession

Injured Athlete Homelander x Physical Therapist Reader

You knew working with high-profile athletes meant dealing with egos, but nothing could prepare you for John. From the moment you lay hands on him, he decides that you’re his. His intensity is suffocating, his presence inescapable. He doesn’t want healing, he wants you. John doesn’t take no for an answer, and in his world, he always wins.

Chapter One

[tiki-was-here]

Teehee having a random fling with Bateman and secretly taking photos of him sucking on your cock, blissed out expression with tears in his eyes as he all but chokes on ur length. Then using those photos to blackmail him into becoming your personal slut. Having him do more and more degrading things like wearing a collar, being your personal maid (skimpy dress is mandatory obviously 🙄) and even wearing a cock cage to work, all the while taking photos of his debauchery.

Little do you know that although he snaps and bites at you and tells himself that he’s only doing this because he’s being blackmailed he has to will himself not to cum whenever you take out your camera. And he spends hours dolling himself up, practicing his slutty little faces in the mirror just so that he can look good for you.

[tiki-was-here]

“Footlong this, twelve inches that”-YALL ARE SO LAAAAAME. PUHLEASE GIVE US MORE MEN WITH SMALL DICKS. I SWEAR ITS NOT GONNA KILL YOU.

Like there are soooo many possibilities like him feeling insecure and you spending hours worshipping him and telling him that his body is perfect. Or even an older man who’s learnt to work with what he has and whose tongue should be considered a national treasure. He’s always eager to try new things and has an extensive collection of toys that he doesn’t hesitate to use.

OR-if he’s into that shit you could make him wear a strap on (it makes sense in my head idk how this would actually work though) and teasing him while he fucks your because you need a real dick to keep you satisfied and this is the best he could ever give you.

And ofc you have dicks that are so thick and girthy that there’s no way it can go inside you so either you guys spend ten thousand years prepping you to take him orrrrr you spend the night sucking on his tip cus you can’t even take anymore in your mouth.

Idk I think I like the idea of like- exploring new ways to be intimate without the stereotypical suck and fuck. And also more people writing smut w the idea that it’s not always gonna be easy and you have to work with what you and your partner has. (Please don’t even get me started on fucking an older man and having to legit research new positions cus you want to try new things but also don’t wanna blow his back out or smth)

[tiki-was-here]

It is so late in the night and I don’t have my glasses on so idec if this makes any sense but-

« ⋅ʚ🍎ɞ⋅ »

Need homelander and reader who’ve just gotten into an actual relationship and are still figuring out each other’s preferences. After a night of… taking care of yourself you leave out to work only to come back to find your apartment ransacked and all of your toys lazered to nothing but lumps of silicone.

Homelander’s there waiting for you looking like a disappointed teacher but you practically see the effort it takes to contain his rage because “How dare you disrespect me like that? Fucking yourself with these worthless pieces of trash when you have the best dick in the US at your disposal?”

Very quickly ignoring the glaring red flag that is the fact that he must have been stalking you in order to know your business you have absolutely no problem apologizing to him for your gross misconduct.

You do this of course- by bouncing up and down on his cock with energy that you shouldn’t have considering you just had a full day of work.

Homelander’s so close to forgetting what he was even upset about cus all he can focus on is your voice whispering praises into his ear, telling him how he’s so pretty and he’s the only person that could make you feel so good. That you were thinking of him when you were fucking yourself last night but nothing compares to the feeling of his hands on your hips and his lips trailing down your neck.

And by the end of the night when your sheets are stained with cum you can’t help but hope that he doesn’t find out about the new set of toys you’re definitely gonna order. Because if this is how he fucks when he’s upset you’ve got a lot in store for him.

[tiki-was-here]

Urg I have no idea how to properly write this idea but like- Thomas taking femboy reader captive with the intention of making him his wife because he thinks he’s a girl.

No matter how much reader tries to tell he’s a dude Tommy just can’t comprehend how someone so pretty could be a man even if you have a dick just like he does. So the only logical conclusion that he can come up with to prove you wrong is to breed you until you get pregnant. I can just imagine after months of trying, stuffing you full of his cum every single day he eventually forgets what his original goal was. Just content with fucking your pretty little hole and relishing in all the noises you make.

[tiki-was-here]

Just imagining Butcher losing a bet and having to wear this whilst you fuck him. It can barely fit and the fabric is digging into his skin but he looks so pretty you can’t help but to take out your phone to record him.

As soon as he sees the camera he starts putting on his usual macho persona as if he’s not bouncing up and down on your cock like some cheap slut lol. It doesn’t matter much to you though, you simply double your efforts knowing that you’ll have him screaming your name by the end of the night.

AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ABOUT HIM WEARING LINGERIE CASUALLY. Teasing him before every mission because you know if you guys buck up on homelander and he uses his xray he’s gonna see the very obvious homelander themed panties he’s wearing.

Whenever you have some extra cash laying around you always make sure you buy him something special (and always a size too small). And even when he complains about it and calls you a pervert he can’t hide the hardness in his jeans whenever you tease him about it.

[tiki-was-here]

Billy Butcher x Male Reader [Part Two]

Word count: 1.4k

Somebody sedate me ofmggg. Decided i don't want to hear billy talk rn so i simply gagged him. Lowkey wanna throw rocks at his house and make him cry (our relationship is complicated rn).

Idk how this turned into a male reader when it was supposed to be gender neutral. Oh well. Also he drools a lot in this idk why I did that.

[Part One]

“You done?” he asked finally, his voice quieter now but no less tense.

“No,” you said, stepping right up to him, your nose inches from his. “You don’t get to keep doing this. You don’t get to push me away just because you’re scared. You want to keep this thing between us? Then you’d better apologize . Because I’m not sticking around to be your punching bag.”

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The air between you crackled with tension, the silence heavy and suffocating.

Then, finally, he spoke

“Make me.”

You didn’t think, you just acted. You grabbed him by the collar, yanking him towards you, and kissed him hard. It was angry and messy, a collision of teeth and tongue that left you both breathless.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as he kissed you back with equal intensity. It was like all the anger and frustration had boiled over, spilling out into something raw and electric.

Your hand found its way to his throat, squeezing down hard enough that you knew there would be an ugly mark in a few hours. Your knuckles turned white with effort but that didn’t stop Butcher from leaning into your grip. Your kiss long forgotten as he chose to pant harshly in your neck. What a slut. Still, you wouldn’t get distracted so easily.

“Open up” you muttered, before unceremoniously shoving two of your fingers down his throat. You didn’t even have to tell him what to do, the brit immediately sucking like his life depended on it. Eyes rolling back and drool already rolling down his chin. It was always messy when you were with him but you weren’t complaining.

While he was making himself useful sucking on your fingers like they were the best cock he’d had in years, your other hand snaked its way down his front.

A wet patch had already started to form and he was unbelievably hard. You palmed him lightly, eliciting a muffled moan from his lips before eventually making your way to his hole.

Your fingers tentatively prodded his entrance, and to your surprise, he was wet.

“Such a slut for me aren’t you Billy” you cooed at him, thrusting your fingers in and out of his mouth softly. His entire shirt was now soaked with spit. “You couldn’t wait for me to come take care of you?”

The only response you got was a muffled “fuck you”

You chuckled “ I guess it’s only fair for me to have my turn now isn’t it?”

You grabbed his hair roughly and threw him to the ground, not giving a chance to breathe before pouncing on him, pin his thighs beneath yours, effectively trapping him against the ground.Butcher struggled against you, teeth bared in faux disgust.

You knew if he really wanted him off you he could easily do so, no one who's really struggling would arch up into your shallow grinds with such poorly hidden desperation. He wouldn't be propping himself up on his knees to better help you pull his boxers over the swell of his ass.

Shoving them in his mouth to keep him quiet, you decided to begin what you came here to do.

Because you felt like being a little bit nice today since Billy was being surprisingly quiet (and because you didn't want to hear him complaining about it the next day) you decided to finally remove your fingers from his mouth and got to work prepping him.

Your fingers entered him with little resistance. Starting with two you slowly worked your way deeper, purposely avoiding that bundle of nerves you knew Butcher was eager for you to find.

Just a few seconds of teasing got you frustrated whines from the man beneath you, squirming in his place underneath you.

He was so cute like this, face flushed red and tears gathering on his eyelids.

“You know Billy, sometimes I wonder how the rest of the team would look at you if they knew how much a whore their ‘beloved leader’ is”. You pulled your fingers out of him, instead replacing it with the tip of your cock, which was now red and weeping from the lack of attention.

“Could you imagine it?” you teased pushing into him slowly,”Standing in front of Homelander knowing that I had my dick inside you just moments earlier?” You felt him clench at that…what a whore.Your thrusts got faster, deeper, as all the frustration you've felt bubbling up inside you came (lol) up to the surface.

“You’d like that wouldn't you? Fighting him with my cum still dripping out of you?”. He frantically shook his head no as he ‘screamed’ what were surely muffled expletives from behind his makeshift gag. But you didn't need to listen to his answer to feel the way he clenched pathetically around your cock. You stored that info away for later, teasing him about Homelander was fun, but today was about him taking what you gave him, and you getting what you needed.

Your thrust reached a brutal pace, muffled moans and whines bouncing off of the thin walls of the motel. You could feel the pleasure building up in the pit of your stomach, and you knew that you were close. Reaching your hand under Billy’s hips, you stroked his cock at an unrelenting pace, desperate to make him come before you.

You wanted to record this moment, tears flowing freely down his face, the wet smack of your balls hitting his ass the only thing coming close to being louder than his wails. It was a wonder as to how he still had his boxers in his mouth, the poor material now darkened with drool. Still, as Billy reached his peak, you silently thanked it as it was surely the only thing keeping you from being interrupted with a noise complaint.

The brunette seemed to be in his own world, his tough guy persona long gone as he shook silently beneath you, his softening cock trapped between the floor and his cum stained stomach. You followed close behind, soft grunts escaping your lips as you emptied your load into him, before promptly collapsing next to him, chests heaving in unison.

You knelt beside the tub, running your fingers through the warm water, testing the temperature.

Billy sat on the closed toilet lid, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with a tired sort of curiosity. His usual sharp, biting demeanor was dulled,

“You gonna sit there all night or actually get in?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder.

He huffed, shaking his head. “Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, well, someone’s got to take care of you since you clearly won’t.”

He gave you a look but didn’t argue. With a sigh, he stood, peeling off his shirt and stepping into the bath. The water sloshed as he settled in, leaning back against the porcelain with a long exhale. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and for once, he looked peaceful.

You sat on the edge of the tub, trailing your fingers through the water. “You can’t keep doing this, Billy.”

His eyes cracked open. “Doing what?”

“Losing it like that,” you said, voice soft but firm. “Tearing people apart just because you’re angry. Lashing out at me when you don’t know what else to do with yourself.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away.

“You want me on your side?” you continued. “Then you have to trust me. And you have to keep yourself in check.”

A muscle in his cheek twitched. He looked like he wanted to argue, wanted to push back just for the sake of it. But instead, he let out a long breath, staring at the water. “Not exactly my strong suit, love.”

You dipped your hand in the bath, letting the warm water slip between your fingers. “I know. But I also know you’re not as heartless as you pretend to be.”

Billy scoffed, but there was no real bite to it. “That so?”

“Yeah,” you said simply. “Because if you were, I wouldn’t be sitting here.”

A beat of silence passed between you, thick with unspoken things. He swallowed, shifting slightly, like the conversation was making him physically uncomfortable. You could see it—he wanted to apologize, admit that he’d gone too far. But Billy Butcher wasn’t the kind of man who could just say sorry. It wasn’t in his nature.

Instead, he reached out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, a small, unspoken gesture of remorse.

You sighed, shaking your head with a soft smile. “That your way of saying you feel bad?”

“Maybe,” he muttered.

“Wow. Huge moment for you,” you teased. “Almost like an actual human emotion.”

He gave you a flat look but didn’t let go of your hand. “Don’t push your luck.”

You squeezed his fingers gently. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Billy grunted, leaning back again, eyes slipping shut. But he didn’t let go of your hand—not even when the water started to cool.

[tiki-was-here]

Billy Butcher x GN Reader-Valentines Edition

Word Count: 2k

Pretend that this isnt rushed because i forgot about it lol. also if its not clear reader cancels the reservation when they make the phone call butcher just doesnt hear

Valentines Event

Masterlist

You weren’t exactly the kind of person to get all starry-eyed about Valentine’s Day. The whole thing was a corporate cash grab, anyway—overpriced chocolates, gaudy heart-shaped decorations, and forced declarations of love. Yeah, you weren’t that type.

But still.

You glanced down at the confirmation email on your phone, the words practically glowing with your shame. "Your reservation for two at Le Château Noir has been confirmed for February 14th, 7:30 PM."

It wasn’t anything crazy. Just a nice dinner at a fancy place you wouldn’t normally splurge on. A way to say, Hey, I actually care about you, and I like spending time with you, even though you’re an absolute dickhead.

Because whatever was happening between you and Butcher—this thing that was built on stolen moments and rough hands on quiet nights —you didn’t know what to call it.The two of you hadn’t talked about what any of it meant.

And maybe it didn’t mean anything at all.

Still, you had scraped together enough money to make the reservation—partly from your own savings, partly from “borrowing” a bit of cash from Frenchie and MM. They’d get over it. Probably.

Shoving the thought to the back of your mind, you focused on the present—walking beside Butcher, hands shoved deep in your coat pockets, the two of you wandering through the city. No destination, for the sake of it.

The streets were packed with people, moving in and out of stores with bags of chocolate and teddy bears in their arms. Heart-shaped A-Train mugs, Queen Maeve teddy bears, little action figures of the Deep holding bouquets of roses. It was ridiculous.

Half-listening as Billy muttered about some new Vought scandal, something caught your eye—a massive, over-the-top billboard featuring the Seven.

They were all posed dramatically, dressed in shades of red and gold. Starlight stood front and center with a megawatt smile, Homelander beside her, eyes glowing faintly like he was about to laser the next person who so much as breathed wrong. The text at the bottom read: “Make this Valentine’s one to remember. Diamonds are forever! – The Seven’s Valentine’s Special!”

You snorted. “Jesus. They’re really milking the holiday for all it’s worth.”

You glanced at Butcher, smirking a little while nodding your head towards the board. “What do you say, Butch? Gonna get me a nice rock? Maybe pop the question while you’re at it?”

Butcher scoffed, barely sparing the display  a glance. “Not bloody likely.”

“Oh, c’mon. Not even a lil’ something?” You smled, poking fun at him. “I’ll get you a Black Noir keychain in return. Real sentimental.”

“Romance is a bloody scam.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, here we go.”

“Think about it,” he continued, gesturing vaguely at the streets. “Whole thing’s just a racket. They guilt you into spending’ a fortune on chocolates and all that shit, just to prove you give a shit about someone.”

You raised a brow. “Right, because God forbid.”

He kept walking, jaw set. “I don’t see why people make such a big deal about it. It’s just another day.”

You rolled your eyes, but the sting was still there. “Right. Yeah. Stupid holiday.”

You hadn’t expected him to be enthusiastic about it, but the way he dismissed it so quickly—it kind of hurt. Because you had been excited, just a little. And now you just felt dumb.

The rest of the walk home was quiet, tension clinging to the air between you.

Later that night, when you were alone in your room, you pulled out your phone and scrolled to your reservation.

Maybe you had been jumping the gun with the whole fancy-dinner thing. Maybe it had been stupid to think that Butcher would ever entertain something like that.

You sat on the edge of your bed, phone in hand, staring at the screen longer than necessary before finally pressing the call button. The restaurant picked up on the second ring, a professional yet pleasant voice greeting you.

“Hello, thank you for calling Le Château Noir. How can I assist you this evening?”

You inhaled sharply. Just do it. It’s not a big deal.

“Hi, I’m calling about my reservation for tomorrow night,” you said, voice steady but distant, as if saying the words out loud made them more real. “The table for two at seven thrity?”

Down the hall, Butcher had been walking past your door, intending to grab a beer from the fridge. But your voice caught his attention, and something made him pause just outside the room.

A table for two at eight?

“For two, yes,” you confirmed, nodding even though they couldn’t see you.

Butcher frowned, shifting his weight. You never mentioned anything about it to him.

“Under what name?” the receptionist asked.

You gave them your name, confirming all the details, and Butcher had heard enough. He turned away, walking briskly toward the kitchen.

What the bloody hell were you thinking?

He grabbed a beer from the fridge, popped the cap off with a little too much force, and took a long swig.

You had planned a fancy dinner. For him. After everything he had said earlier about Valentine’s Day being a joke. He didn’t know what to make of it. Part of him was irritated—you hadn’t even told him, and now he was expected to sit through some overpriced meal, pretending not to hate every second of it.

But another part of him—one he refused to acknowledge—felt something else entirely.

Something warm. Something suspiciously close to endearment.

Despite himself, the thought of you planning something like that, of you wanting to spend the day with him like it actually meant something…

He set the beer down a little too hard.

He didn’t know what to make of it, so he wasn’t going to make anything of it.

The day started off strange.

For one, Butcher was still here.

You fully expected to wake up alone, but instead  when you rolled over, he was  in bed scrolling on his phone, one arm folded behind his head. His eyes flicked to you the moment you stirred, something unreadable passing through them before he exhaled and looked away.

“Morning,” he muttered.

You blinked at him, still groggy. “You’re still here.”

“Brilliant observation, love.”

You frowned, pushing yourself up on your elbows. “Thought you had shit to do today.”

He shrugged, barely glancing at you. “Plans changed.”

Weird.

But you kne better than to question him— especially so early in the morning.

Instead, you dragged yourself out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you shuffled toward the kitchen, figuring you’d have to scrounge around for whatever scraps were left from the last grocery run.

But then—

There was coffee.

A full pot. Fresh. Still hot.

Your brow furrowed as you hesitated near the counter, eyeing the mug waiting beside it. You didn’t even have to ask to know that it was for you.

Still, you didn’t comment on it. Just poured yourself a cup, and leaned against the counter, 

When Butcher finally strolled in, you watched him out of the corner of your eye. He grabbed his own mug—black, of course—and leaned against the opposite counter, arms crossed, staring at you like he was waiting for something.

You blinked. “Did you poison this?”

He smirked. “Drink it and find out.”

You just scoffed at him and took your glass to your room.

The whole morning was like that. A light touch on the small of your back when you passed him in the hallway. The way he didn’t snap at you when you stole the last piece of toast off his plate. The fact that he stayed.

Usually, Butcher had somewhere to be. Always on the move, always planning, always chasing the next lead.

But today, he lingered

It should’ve made you happy. A day ago, maybe it would have. Now it just made the ache in your chest worse. 

And now, he was sitting beside you on the couch, one arm draped across the back, fingers lazily playing with the ends of your hair while you scrolled through your phone.

“Not even gonna look at me today, then?” he mused.

You shrugged. “Dunno. Nothing to look at.”

His fingers stilled. “Bit rude, innit?”

“Only returning the favor.”

It slipped out before you could stop yourself, and you weren’t even sure what you meant by it. But he let it go—for now.

By the time evening rolled around, you had fully settled into your mood. It wasn’t even intentional—it was just there.

And it must have gotten to him too, because by the time seven-thirty hit, he was clearly restless.So when he finally stretched, exhaling through his nose, and said, “Well, I’m gonna take a shower,care to join?” you barely acknowledged it.

You just shrugged, staring at the TV. “I’ll take one in the morning.”

“Not even if I promise to make it special?”

Your fingers twitched around the remote.

Usually, that would work. You’d roll your eyes but still let him pull you in, let him distract you.

But not today.

You didn’t even look at him. “Not in the mood, Butcher.”

His face darkened, his usual sharp smirk twisting into something meaner. “Christ, what’s with you today?”

You turned your head, finally looking at him fully. “What’s with me?”

“Yeah.” His hands went to his hips. “You’ve been sulkin’ all day. Thought you’d be happy I’m stickin’ around, but you’re actin’ like I kicked your bloody dog.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit,” he snapped. “Isn’t it supposed to be Valentine’s or something? ”

You glanced at him, brow raising. “And?”

He met your eyes, something simmering there, something edged. “And you’re actin’ like it’s just any other bloody day.You’re supposed to be all over me, right?”

You stared at him for a moment, then let out a short, humorless laugh. “You don’t even like Valentine’s Day, so why do you look so upset that I didn’t plan anything?”

“Tch.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Ain’t upset.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

He huffed, looking away for a moment before muttering, “Just figured—” But then he cut himself off, exhaling sharply like he’d already said too much.

You folded your arms. “You figured what?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just sat there, staring at the TV like it suddenly had all the answers he needed. But his grip on his knee was just a little too tight, his shoulders just a little too tense.

“…Figured you would’ve still gone to that dinner.”

So that was it.

He knew.

Your stomach twisted. “I—” You let out a breath. “I canceled it.”

He stiffened slightly. “Right.”

“You made it pretty clear how you felt about Valentine’s, so I figured there wasn’t much point.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, in a low voice:

“That’s different.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

Butcher ran a hand down his face, looking uncharacteristically frustrated. “It’s different when it’s you.When its us i mean…”

The words weren’t particularly soft. They weren’t overly romantic. But from Butcher? They might as well have been a love confession.

Your fingers tightened around the remote once more“You’re an idiot,” you muttered, shaking your head.

Something in his expression shifted. “You still wanna go?”

You gave him a wry look. “You think I can get the reservation back?”

He  sighed, glancing at the clock. 7:09.His lips twitched, just barely.

“Guess not.”

There was another pause before you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Fine,” you mumbled. “Let’s order pizza and watch something stupid.”

Butcher snorted. “That’s your idea of a Valentine’s date?”

“It is now.”

He didn’t argue. Just plopped down next to you on the couch as you placed the order.

The pizza arrived, you put on the cheesiest rom-com you could find, and somehow, between bites of greasy food and sarcastic commentary, you found yourself leaning against him, head on his shoulder.

He reached into his pocket, then tossed something onto your lap.

You frowned, picking it up. It was… a keychain. A tiny, dumb-looking Black Noir keychain.

Your lips parted in surprise. “Wait—”

He looked away, feigning nonchalance. “Didn’t wanna show up empty-handed.”

You stared at it for a moment, something warm flickering in your chest. Then, shaking your head, you muttered, “You’re impossible.”

He grinned. “And yet, here we are.”

And when his arm slung around your waist, tugging you just a little closer, you didn’t pull away.

[tiki-was-here]

Billy Butcher x GN Reader Part One

Word count: 1.1k

Uuuh reader has luck powers like domino from Deadpool. They’re a retired supe who became disgusted by the culture and their inability to save the people they really cared about. The boys lowkey kidnapped you because they wanted to use your powers for their own benefit and now you’re kinda just a part of the group. 

Takes place after a mission gone wrong where Hughie gets badly hurt and butcher starts tweaking like he always does. This was lowkey hard to write and i had to split it because butcher speaks like hes in a cartoon + school is kicking my ass

[Part Two]

The warehouse was dark, the air thick with the smell of damp concrete and blood. MM had already gone to lie down whilst Frenchie and Kimiko went to scrounge medical supplies. You were still catching your breath, leaning against the wall, watching Starlight pace like she was looking for a way to explain herself. The mission had gone wrong- horribly wrong.

Billy wasn’t letting it go.

“You just couldn’t fucking help yourself, could you?” he growled, rushing at her like a wild animal. His hands were clenched into fists, jaw tight. “We had one job. One. Fucking. Job. Get the bastard with the intel. But no, you had to go and play bloody hero.”

“Billy,” Starlight said, her voice trembling. “That girl—she was going to die.”

“And what’s that to you, eh?!” he snapped. “We needed the prick alive to tell us where Vought’s next lab is, and instead of doing your job, you decided to swoop in and save the day. You love it, don’t you? Being the fucking golden girl.”

“You think I wanted Hughie to get hurt? You think I wanted him to get away? We all make mistakes Butcher… blaming everything on me just isn’t fair. ” she shot back, her voice breaking.

“Fair?” he barked, laughing bitterly. “Life ain’t fair, sweetheart. You think I give a fuck about fair? People are gonna die because you couldn’t keep your shiny little nose out of it!”

“Enough. We’re all still alive and that’s all that matters.” you said, stepping between them. “You’ve made your point, Billy.”

His gaze shifted to you, dark and piercing. “Oh, don’t you fucking start. You wanna defend her, do you? Might I remind you that the only reason your sorry ass is even here is to make things easier on us? So far you’ve been fucking useless.”

You clenched your jaw, your heart pounding. “This isn’t about me.” (u lowkey kinda did insert yourself into the conversation tho dude) 

“The hell it isn’t!” he snapped. “You’re all the same. You think the rules don’t apply to you. Think your powers give you the right to do whatever you want. To make every decision for everyone else. And whenever you fuck it up -which you always do- someone else pays the price because god forbid you ever face some consequences. Luck my ass…You know what you really are? A walking disaster.”

“Drop it, Billy,” you said, your voice dangerously low.

“Oh, what’re you gonna do? Get mad? Use your little powers to make everything go your way, like you always do?” He stepped closer, towering over you now. “Here’s the truth, love: you’re no better than her. You’re no better than any of ‘em. Supes are all bloody the same. Arrogant, reckless, and absolutely fucking useless when it really matters.”

His words cut deep, sharper than you thought they could. Your hands trembled at your sides, and you could feel the heat rising in your chest.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, don’t I?” he said, sneering. “I know enough. I know you’ve got no bloody clue what it’s like to live without some fucking crutch to lean on. You think you’re clever, think you’re helping. But you’re just another liability. Just another Supe.”

That was it. The line snapped.

“Fuck you, Billy!” you shouted, shoving him back. “I’m not one of them, and you know it. You’re just too much of an asshole to admit it!”

For a moment, he looked genuinely stunned. Then his expression hardened again. “Oh, what’s the matter? Did I hurt your feelings? Poor thing.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. With a growl of frustration, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the warehouse, the door slamming behind you. As much as you wanted to punch the shit out of him (and as much as you knew he deserved it), both your injuries were too severe to risk it. Your chest heaved with anger, tears stinging your eyes as you stalked down the dark alleyway.

He’d gone too far this time. You’d shared those things- your feelings, your failures- in confidence, making yourself vulnerable for the first time in years. 

Just for him to use it against you when things didn’t go his way. 

You’d make him apologize later, but for now you needed to clear your head

Hours later, you found yourself wandering the streets, letting your luck guide you. You didn’t know why you were doing this—why you couldn’t just let it go. Maybe it was because you couldn’t stand the idea of letting him think he’d won.

Your feet led you to a cheap motel on the edge of town. Room 312. It just felt right

You knocked on the door, your heart pounding.

The door opened, and there he was, standing in the dim light of the hallway. His hair was a mess, his shirt rumpled, expression unreadable.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he said, his voice low.

“So do you,” you shot back, roughly pushing past him into the room.

He closed the door and turned to face you, his arms crossed over his chest. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I want you to shut the fuck up and listen for once,” you said, your voice shaking with barely contained fury. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. Not after everything I’ve done for you.”

“Oh, here we go,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “Go on, then. Give me the sob story.”

“I’m serious, Billy. You think you’re the only one who’s been through shit? Newsflash: you’re not special. And just because you’re hurt doesn’t mean you get to hurt everyone else.”

His jaw tightened, but he stayed silent. 

“You want to call me a liability?” you continued, voice rising. “Fine. But you and I both know you wouldn’t have gotten half this far without me. So maybe, just maybe, you should start showing a little fucking gratitude.”

Billy’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might start shouting again. But instead, he just stood there, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

“You done?” he asked finally, his voice quieter now but no less tense.

“No,” you said, stepping right up to him, your nose inches from his. “You don’t get to keep doing this. You don’t get to push me away just because you’re scared. You want to keep this thing between us? Then you’d better apologize . Because I’m not sticking around to be your punching bag.”

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The air between you crackled with tension, the silence heavy and suffocating.

Then, finally, he spoke

“Make me.”

[tiki-was-here]

Thomas Hewitt x Male Reader

Word Count: 1.6k Doesn’t use y/n Thomas Hewitt be my wife ᯓᡣ𐭩

The heat of the Texan sun was something you could never quite get used to. Years of living with the comfort of modern air conditioning had made you a bit spoiled, but you were determined to fully embrace your new country lifestyle. No television, no morning coffee runs, no constant hum of city life. The only remnants of your past life were your work computer and your phone.

Despite the sweltering heat and the silence of the countryside, life had its upsides. The Hewitt family, who lived a short drive down the road, had become your anchor. You remembered your first drive to your new home like it was yesterday —stopping at a local gas station to refuel both your car and your stomach. There, you met Luda Mae, who welcomed you with open arms and an invitation to visit her family anytime, seemingly excited at the idea of a new face.(get it lol)

You took her up on the offer that Sunday. The Hewitt home was a cosy, if a bit dilapidated, place that seemed to hold something sinister between its walls, though Luda Mae’s sweet demeanour made you feel at ease.

Among the Hewitts, you found a special connection with Thomas, or Tommy, as you’d taken to calling him. He often came over to help with various repairs and to learn more about life in the city. You appreciated his company, and despite the lack of words shared you two spent many evenings watching movies on your laptop.(Thomas enjoyed seeing a screen that wasn’t black and white or prone to sporadic static cuts)

Your friendship with Tommy grew, and you made it clear he was welcome to visit anytime. You even shared the password to your laptop with him, so he could use it when he came over and you were busy with other tasks. And after a long long talk about the dangers of clicking on random popups, the two of you had finally settled into a soothing routine.

One sweltering afternoon, while you were outside tending to your garden, everything went wry.

Tommy was inside fixing a leaky roof per your request. You had been in the garden for a few hours, assuming that Thomas was either still working or had made himself comfortable, when your blood ran cold.

You remembered that last night you had been… taking care of yourself, to put it nicely. A man has his needs after all, and living in the middle of nowhere tends to take a toll on one's libido. A pang of embarrassment struck you as you realised Tommy might have seen what you were watching if he used your laptop. You dashed inside, hoping to catch him before he saw too much.

You found Tommy sitting at the laptop, his eyes glued to the screen. His cheeks were flushed, and he was clearly absorbed in the film. You felt a mixture of amusement and embarrassment as you approached him.

It was clear by the way that Luda Mae spoke about city life that the family practised a more conservative lifestyle. So much so that the first time you took your shirt off around him (you were both painting your fence and the heat became unbearable) he suddenly froze, paintbrush falling from his hand before he rushed away.

He couldn’t look you in the eyes for the next few weeks, so you knew you had to approach him carefully.

“Hey, Tommy,” you said, trying to sound casual.

Tommy’s head snapped up, and he scrambled to close the laptop, but his movements were clumsy and awkward. He avoided your gaze, his eyes darting around as his fist clenched tightly, face an alarming shade of red.

“Do you want to talk about it,” you said quickly, stepping closer to him. “I’m sorry for leaving that on there. I didn’t mean for you to feel uncomfortable.”

Tommy’s eyes flickered briefly to you before he looked down at his hands, which were nervously twisting the edge of his shirt. He made a small, uncertain noise, and fidgeted with the laptop, his fingers tapping nervously on the closed lid.

“We don't have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you said, giving him a reassuring smile. “How about you come to help me in the garden?”

Tommy finally looked up at you, his expression a mixture of relief and continued embarrassment. He gave a small nod, got up and headed to the garden. As your gaze followed him out the door you tried your best to ignore the slight bulge you saw in his jeans.

After a few more hours of work, you both stepped inside, the coolness of the house a welcome contrast to the garden's heat. You poured two glasses of lemonade while he stood nearby, his tall figure hesitant in the doorway. His eyes followed your movements with an expression that you couldn’t quite place.

When you handed him his glass, you felt his fingers linger on yours, a touch that seemed almost too deliberate. He set the glass down, his hands trembling just a bit.

Thomas’ gaze flickered to yours and moving with a slight clumsiness, he reached out to touch your arm. The gesture was tentative, his fingers awkwardly brushing against your skin, almost as if he was unsure of how to position them.

Sensing his nervousness, you took his hand gently, guiding it to hold yours. “It’s okay,” you reassured him with a gentle smile, “Just hold my hand like this, we can take it slow.”

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and you could see the effort it took for him to do so.

As the moments passed, his nervousness seemed to melt away, and he slowly drew you closer, his hand still holding yours. His other arm, which had been hanging awkwardly by his side, now moved around you and he pulled you into a gentle embrace.

You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, his breath quickening as his arms tightened around you. The poor boy was practically shaking, and although the disapproving words of Luda May passed through your head, the arousal that was pooling in your stomach was quick to drown her out.

“There's nothing wrong with being curious Tommy… I don't mind.” your voice was all but a whisper. “I can teach you how to feel good...how to make me feel good. Would you like that?”

A moment of science passed, and then he nodded.

You move him backwards slowly until his knees hit the back of your small sofa, just big enough to hold his weight, before settling between his legs. Slowly, very slowly, you reached for his zipper, the monstrous bulge making your mouth water.

You began with kitten licks, savouring the musky taste of the man you grew to love. The sheer weight of his length caused it to hang low down between his legs and you chased it eagerly. The tip was salty and his musk made your head swell. What you couldn’t fit in your mouth (more than half unfortunately but you’re sure your throat would thank you for your restraint later) you pumped slowly with your hand, not even able to fully grasp it.

His breaths were one of the loudest things in the room, his hips stuttering in a way you knew meant that he was close.

How cute. You hadn’t even done much, the familiar ache in your jaw was nonexistent and yet still he was so close to breaking. You wanted- no, needed to taste him. To see him fall apart on your tongue. Your beautiful boy.

Your kitten licks quickly turned into long sucks, your brows furrowed from the effort. A frantic moan came from above you Thomas’ hips bucking wildly. His monstrous hands gripped your hair so tight tears sprung in your eyes as he ground into your mouth like you were no more than a toy.

With a sob, his hips gave one last stutter before he came in your mouth. His cum was thick and admittedly a tad too bitter for your liking, but you swallowed it all as if it were the sweetest nectar. Even as it filled every corner of your mouth threatening to spill out past your lips it was much too precious to waste.

Your lips left him with an obscene pop. He was sweating profusely, strands of his raven hair curled widely as they escaped his ponytail. Simply beautiful.

“How was that?” you questioned in a whisper. “Did I make you feel good?” He nodded, and you moved to sit in his lap. “Now it’s my turn alright.” you start, palming at your own bulge that had been neglected. Never in your life had you considered yourself an exhibitionist but under his gaze you felt reverenced. Quickly pulling your length out of your slacks you wasted no time in putting on a show. Your pace was slow and methodical, because despite it all you really did want to show him how it’s done.

His gaze never wavered from your moving hand, watching your mushroomed tip disappear in your fist with a slick squelch. Slowly, his hand moved towards yours. You allowed him to have his way, and your dick disappeared completely in his closed fist. His hand was warm, clammy but oh so heavenly. He was so concentrated it was almost comedic, practically(and a little bit literally) drooling at the sight before him. The pressure was almost too little, but it was just enough to bring you closer to that familiar edge. Your hips bucked wildly as that heat that pooled in the pit of your stomach threatened to burst.

“Don't stop please-” you crooned “You're doing so good for me please just keep going” Your nails dug into his arm as your head snapped back in pleasure. Hot spurts of cum splashed onto Tommy’s chin and chest. You almost passed out when his hand kept moving, pace unfettered by your orgasm. You pawed weakly at his hand face buried in his chest as he quickly stopped his movements, checking to see if he had hurt you. “No, it's fine Tommy, you did good. Very good.” You nuzzled into him further, content to stay in his embrace just a little while longer.

[tiki-was-here]

Lol stalking a certain someone’s blog and thinking about old man price w arthritis basically crying out of frustration cus he can no longer finger himself the way he’d like to.

You’re watching tv or doing whatever around the house and you just see him standing up in the doorway like this expecting you to drop whatever your doing to take care of him

Lolll I cantttt. I’m just imagining him in an oversized tee and some pj shorts coming up to you and nuzzling into your side. On one hand he hates the fact that he’s getting old BUT ON THE OTHER HAND now he has an excuse for you to pamper him and give him all your attention. Mwah mwah I love it.

I said this b4 but just old men not being able to do handstands on the dick like in the olden days so now they just have to lay back and take whatever you give them siiiiighhhhh. ESPECIALLY if it’s a case where they used to only top until you came along and turned them into the biggest cock whore in the world.

[tiki-was-here]

This is actually incomprehensible but we love rambles copied from the notes app

Surely someone has toyed with the idea of an au where omni man and homelander both exist (maybe like universe hopping) and are equally obsessed with you. Maybe it’s because you’re stronger than both of them and it makes them feel things they aren’t really ready to admit or they think that you’d make the perfect partner- worthy enough to stand by their side.

I haven’t watched invincible and I don’t subscribe to powerscaling so let’s just say that they are equally matched-which doesn’t stop them from fighting each other till they’re nothing but bloody masses and leveling cities just for your attention- but atleast they can’t kill each other. And they can’t exactly hurt you to get what they want because then they’ll have to deal with the other coming after them.

Idkkk I just feel like having the two as lovers would be such an interesting time. I think that if John actually has competition he’d immediately start kissing ass which would cause Nolan to want to prove that he’s better even though he likes to act like YOU should be the one thanking him for his attention.

While John is offended that your entertaining someone else, Nolan is more pissed of that you’re entertaining Homelander of all people- who in his eyes is a little bitch (fair assessment) and is not even a worthy competitor.

Ugh I’m thinking about them fighting over who gets to fuck you first. Even worse who gets to cum inside you. Because my hc is that John comes quicker but has a good recovery time but Nolan likes to take his time fucking you deep and when he cums he cums buckets

And it would be sooo easy to use their behavior to manipulate each other. On his own I think homelander would be more willing to play a submissive role but with Nolan as his competition he would find it hard to get truly comfortable because he’s afraid of being judged.

But if Nolan sees that you prefer a softer lover he’d reluctantly let you do things he’d find silly and demeaning, like tying him up and taking your time riding him keeping his orgasm just out of reach for hours on end. Or even just having his head in your lap while you card your fingers through his hair.

And ik that this would probably never happen and that Nolan especially would just get tired of you or kill you for whatever stupid reason he thinks of and face the consequences later but a man can dream.

Jumpscare warning 3 2 1 GO!

BOOOOO!

[tiki-was-here]

YALL ARE NASTY

[tiki-was-here]

Ex boyfriend Black Leg Sanji x GN Baker Reader

Word Count: 1.2k Words

Reader and Snoj used to date for a while when he was at the Baratie,i know they move around alot but lets pretend that they stayed at reader’s town for a while cus business was really good.They broke up because although Sanji is a gentleman he was definitely not mature enough for an actual relationship. Also I didn't know how to end this don't shoot me

Valentines Event

Masterlist

The smell of vanilla and sugar filled the small bakery, the air warm and quiet .You were carefully piping an intricate lace pattern onto an elaborate cake .A towering thing, layered with deep red velvet and delicate, sugar-spun roses. Romantic, ridiculously so. It had taken hours, order placed at the last possible second, and the only reason you even agreed was because the person had offered more than enough money to make up for the trouble.

It was the kind of job that would normally require at least two days of work, but here you were, staying up way past closing hours because some snotty royal had placed a last-minute order under the name "Mr. Prince."

You hadn’t recognized the voice over the transponder snail so he must have been from out of town—it had been smooth, charming, and far too smug for your liking. The kind of voice that practically oozed privilege.

You hadn’t cared. Money was money, and business had been slower than usual.

-Still, the request had been absurd.

You yawned, rubbing the back of your flour-dusted hand against your forehead. It was almost midnight, and whoever this "Mr. Prince" was, they were taking their sweet time picking up the damn thing.but hey, if some rich bastard wanted to spend a fortune on a Valentine’s cake, who were you to complain?

Money is money, you reminded yourself.

The soft chime of the bakery’s front bell made you jolt. You hadn’t even heard footsteps outside. Straightening up, you wiped your hands on your apron and stepped out from behind the counter.

"Finally," you called out, irritation seeping into your voice. "I was starting to think you’d—"

You stopped mid-sentence, the words stuck in your throat.

There, standing in the doorway, was Sanji.

Your Sanji.

His blond hair was longer,shoulders broader, but it was his eyes that made something inside you clench tight.

The same piercing blue. The same warmth.

The same regret.

“…Hey, love.” His voice was soft, like he was afraid he’d scare you off. “Did you miss me?”

Oh, you were going to kill him.

"You? Are you serious? You are Mr. Prince?"

Sanji had the audacity to grin. "Guilty."

A flood of emotions surged through you.”You absolute bastard!" you snapped, stomping over to him and shoving a finger against his chest. "You really made me stay up all night for you?! Do you have any idea—"

His hand was suddenly on yours, wrapping around your wrist in a gentle, steady hold. "I know," he murmured, voice softer now. "And I’m sorry, truly. But if I gave you time to think about it, you might’ve said no to seeing me."

You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t wrong. After all these years, you’d convinced yourself that if Sanji ever returned, you’d stay strong, keep your distance. You’d made peace with the past.

"You haven’t changed," you muttered, pulling your hand away.

Sanji chuckled, but there was something heavy in his eyes. "In some ways, maybe. But I have in the ways that matter. " There was something steadier in the way he held himself, something deeper in the way he watched you.

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. "Well anyways… what are you doing here?"

His expression softened. "I told you I’d come back for you. Didn’t I?"

Your heart lurched.

"That was years ago. You left, and I—" You took a step back, shaking your head. "I moved on. I had to."

"Did you?" he asked, voice low. "Because I never did."

Sanji took a step closer, slow, careful, as if you might bolt. "Every single day since I left, you were on my mind. When I fought, when I cooked, when I thought I was going to die—" He laughed, breathless, like he couldn’t believe it himself. "You have no idea how many times I almost turned back. How many times I imagined us standing here, just like this."

Your throat tightened. "Sanji…"

"—I know I don’t deserve to waltz back into your life expecting anything. But I had to try."

You stared at him, heart caught between anger and something dangerously close to longing.

"Sanji," you said carefully, "I told you before—"

"I remember." His gaze darkened slightly. "You told me you’d give me another chance when I was ready. When I could prove to you that I wasn’t just some flirt who couldn’t take us seriously."

You swallowed hard. You had said that. But after so many years, after seeing him on wanted posters, hearing whispers of his deeds across the Grand Line, you’d thought he’d long forgotten about you.

"And you think you’re ready now?" you asked quietly.

"I know I am," he said firmly. "I won’t lie to you, love. I still want all your attention on me. That much hasn’t changed. But everything else? I’ve grown. I’ve seen the world. And I’ve planned for this—for us."

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was thick, every unspoken word, every lingering feeling pressing in from all sides.

Finally, you whispered, "I was always scared."

"Scared that I’d love you too much. That you’d leave, and I’d be stuck waiting." Your voice cracked. "And you did."

His fingers brushed against your cheek, featherlight. "I know. And I’m so fucking sorry love."

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch before you could stop yourself. You hated how easily you melted under his warmth, how his presence felt like home after all these years.

"I want to believe you," you admitted. "But I don’t know if I can."

Sanji exhaled slowly, thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. "Then let me prove it to you. One step at a time.I’ll keep you safe. I swear it on my life," he said, voice fierce with conviction. "I won’t lose you again."

The words sent something warm and aching through you. Because the truth was, you had followed his journey. You’d worry every time you’d heard news of a battle, your heart sinking at every bounty increase, wondering if this would be the time he wouldn’t make it.

You had never stopped caring.

And fuck, looking at him now—stronger, older, still painfully beautiful—you knew you had never stopped loving him.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his coat. "You really had this all planned out, huh?"

He grinned, but there was a flicker of nervousness behind it. "Only for the past few years."

You let out a soft, incredulous laugh, shaking your head. "Damn."

Then, before you could second-guess it, you tugged him down and kissed him.

Sanji froze for half a second before melting into you with a low, satisfied groan. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and for a moment, it was like no time had passed at all.

The warmth, the taste of him, the way he kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world—it was all still the same.

You laughed softly, still breathless from the kiss. Maybe, just maybe, everything had worked out exactly as it was meant to.

And then—

"OI, SANJI! WHERE’S MY CAKE?!"

[tiki-was-here]

Tiki’s Valentines Event

I want to get better at writing dialogue and romance so I thought I’d use Valentine’s Day as an opportunity to do so

Masterlist

Ex boyfriend Black Leg Sanji x GN Baker Reader: "—I know I don’t deserve to waltz back into your life expecting anything. But I had to try."

Billy Butcher x GN Reader: "You don’t even like Valentine’s Day, so why do you look so upset that I didn’t plan anything?"