#(the golden hour has really treated me well lately)

[alchemistc]

The sky was doing So Much this evening.

[cheriladycl01]

I’d rather take my Whiskey neat - Lando Norris x Whiskey! Reader

Plot: Reader thinks she’s not good for gentle Lando Norris who has a smile bright as the morning and is soft as the rain…

It can't be said I'm an early bird It's ten o'clock before I say a word Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?

You never woke up early, you went to bed never earlier than 2am and were never up before 10am. It was a habit you'd got from university and it carried over into post graduation.

For Lando, he never found it an issue. In his mind you would have the bulk of the day together and everything he needed to do for racing, like his work out of time on the sim he could do when you were sleeping. Sometimes he liked to treat himself and have a lay in with you but for the most part Lando was an early riser.

Some mornings he really just loved watching you sleep... pushing your hair back a little before placing a kiss on your cheek and leaving for his morning run round Monaco.

You on the other hand hated it, but you couldn't help it, going to bed late was just part of your lifestyle now but guilt ate away at you, feeling as though Lando deserved someone better, someone who could cater to him better than you.

Despite you coming to bed, hours later than him he always felt most content when you were there with him, even if he couldn't cuddle into you because you were on your phone, or writing on your laptop he just liked the smell and feeling of your presence on the room.

You keep telling me to live right To go to bed before the daylight But then you wake up for the sunrise You know you don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then

"Come on baby, getting up early isn't bad, it's so good for your mental and physical health and honestly i don't think you'll have these thoughts..." he's chuckle at you, sending you into yet another self-hatred spiral that makes you reconsider everything.

"Baby, you just need to fall asleep earlier, sometimes your still up when i wake up!" he chuckles at you and you'd frown, looking down again. You knew that some nights, on the bad ones that you'd be up until the sunrise, and hadn't yet slept, whereas Lando would be waking up, the golden rays across his gorgeous body.

Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake? Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great But while in this world

You were salt, he was sugar. He was the sun and you were the moon and sometimes you worked together beautifully like sweet and salted popcorn, or an eclipse but other times you were at these crossroads that made no sense.

You were an introvert, and Lando could be an introvert too, but that didn't mean he didn't like to go out and party, and ... of course that was great for him and you never stopped him but sometimes when he forced you to come out with him, it felt like you were in a completely different world. All of his friends were ... well they were friends with Lando and while having their own personalities, they werent the opposite to him.

Lando seemed so happy and content with his life, especially when out with friends, maybe it was because it was the only time you could stare and not be caught because there was so much present in bars and clubs he found himself, and you never saw the adoring looks he reserved for you at home when you were both wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa in matching pyjamas.

I think I'll take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

One of the first moments when you realised a start difference between yourself and Lando was when you first went out for drinks win London with him and a few other drivers and their girlfriends.

"And the lady ..." the bartender asks with a smirk after he'd taken Lando's order of just a coke to start off with. Despite having only been together for a month, Lando was pretty protective of your guys relationship and his arm had come around you as the bartender waited.

"Just your house whiskey please, neat" you'd asked and all of his friends stopped their conversations to look round at you. Even the bartender seemed shocked.

"What?" you asked them all wondering if you'd said something offensive or rude.

"Nothing, don't even know how you and this Muppet are together, total opposites" Carlos had laughed before turning back to Rebbeca to continue their conversation.

"Whiskey, Neat? Tough Drink" Max had said before reaching out to hand Kelly her drink.

You'd been confused but that was what had started your thoughts.

Lando Norris, was far too sweet for your ... taste!

But that was according to everyone else. Even though you were the same age as Lando, because of how you spoke and who you'd surrounded yourself with in your earlier life people thought you were already pretty mature, but placing you next to Lando made him look like a kid in a candy store and you as his mother.

Lando Norris was everything you wished you were. Bright, happy, silly, kind ... and some says you felt like you were just Dark, Dispersed, Strict and Bitter.

And you'd convinced yourself you were sucking the life out of Lando Norris.

I aim low, I aim true and the ground's where I go I work late where I'm free from the phone And the job gets done But you worry some, I know

"Come on for once cant we do something spontaneous ... and I don't know out of your comfort zone, like ... not your job" he sighed one day.

He was a little ratty from the complicated previous race weekend that you'd had to miss due to work. And then you'd been working since he'd come back... into the late of the night. But you had deadlines to meet so it wasn't like you really had a choice. People were expecting stuff from you and you weren't going to not deliver.

"Baby, you know i cant. Next week once this is due in!" you'd sighed looking over at him for a split second before looking back at your laptop.

He left, going up to bed ... sad you hadn't come up with him again.

But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate The rest of you like you're the TSA I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong

The conversation you were about to have with Lando you knew would be the hardest one you ever had.

He was so perfect, and pure and you could see you were slolwy starting to taint that. He'd started to sacrifice his sleep schedule to stay up late with you. He wouldn't hang out with his friends as much as he used to and you hated he was changing himself for you.

It didn't feel like you were with Lando Norris anymore. And that's why you got with him in the first place.

And god you loved him for those attributes.

You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait Until that day

He was bright, like a morning. Sometimes if it was around 4 or 5am and you'd just finished up with your work you'd purposely wait until the sun started to shine through the blinds just to see his back light up golden and his face smushed against the pillow his soft lips in a pout.

But you ... you were cold like a December Morning, when you would refuse to get out from under the covers and when you did slippers were a must because the cold wooden floors weren't a polite awakening.

He was soft, like a light drizzle along a pagoda where you could sit and listen to the water hit the ground for hours.

And you were a rain-storm, so harsh that when you went out in it the water would sting as it hit you.

He was pretty, so fucking pretty it hurt when you looked at him, pretty as a vine winding up the side of a castle that how flowers spurting from it.

You were the gnarly kind, with thorns that wrapped around and antient tree that looked like it was strangling the air from it.

Lando most of all was sweet, sweet like a grape when you bite into it and it has the crisp outer layer before the sweet juices explode in your mouth.

But you were like a crushed grape being made into fine wine, maybe a dry like a Cabernet Sauvignon.

And you would wait for him, maybe when he was a little older, more mature and maybe it was you who was destined to taint him and turn him into that bitter old man who had experienced the world as you had seen it.

But ... now wasn't the right time.

You would always take your Whiskey neat.

And Lando ...

Well.

He was far too sweet.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[mncxbe]

# pm!dazai who has a crush on his partner/rival ݁ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: jealous, slightly posessive dazai, mild enemies to lovers, dazai and his complicated feelings

"i can't believe you actually have a crush on Chibi. what's so special about him?" huffed the brunette, leaning against the lamppost behind him. the dim, golden light bounced off his brown curls, illuminatung his downcast expression.

"what, are you jealous?" you retorted, earning a scowl from Dazai. "don't be ridiculous."

it was mere hours ago that your archenemy found out that Chuuya asked you out on a date. an insignificant thing, really, but it vexed him. what on earth could you possibly see in that redhead midget? he just had to know, and as petty as it might be, he was dead set on changing your mind about going on that date. even if it meant following you back home and talking things out with you in front of your apartment at 9 p.m.

"i'm just saying, Nakahara isn't your type. i know it" argued the brunette, crossing his arms over his chest. "he's temperamental, immature, totally unfunny and shorter than you"

"maybe i'm into guys like that" you shrugged absentmindedly, applying an extra layer of gloss on your plump lips.

Dazai had to admit you looked absolutely stunning in that outfit. he felt his cheeks warm up as his gaze lingered on your lips but he quickly looked away, shaking his head. "that's not possible. are you really that desperate to get a boyfriend?"

"well, summer's coming soon. i need someone to take pretty pictures of me at the beach and to buy me flowers" you smiled, fully turning to face him "you got a problem with that?"

"you bet i do. that's just vain and i don't see where Chuuya comes in. you could date any other guy."

"yea, but i like Chuuya. besides, we get along well and he actually knows how to treat a woman"

and I don't? Dazai wanted to ask. his blood boiled, jealousy clouding his judgement as he peered down at you. imagining you and Chuuya together holding hands and walking down the halls of the Port Mafia's headquarters, kissing and cooing at each other like a lovey dovey couple made his stomach churn. it felt wrong in so many ways, yet here you were, waiting for the redhead to pick you up for a date. with each minute that passed Dazai's irritation grew.

"for someone who knows how to treat a woman he sure is late for your date" he scoffed, rolling his eyes. you took a step closer to the brunette, a mocking smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"you're acting so petty right now. damn, you must be really jealous"

"i'm not jealous" Dazai's sharp glare returned to you, clenching his fists as he leaned closer to you. "i just think it's stupid. you two would never work out"

"how do you know that?" you pressed, chuckling at his unfounded claim. you weren't used to seeing Dazai like this, so worked up about something so insignificant.

"because i know you and i know Chuuya and you're a recipe for disaster. i'll be damned if i let you get heartbroken by that idiot" without realizing, Dazai leaned closer to you, his body towering over yours. he was seething, glaring down at you. his chocolate brown eyes seemed almost black in the dark, menacing, a warning of his bad mood. you knew you should stop pushing him, but you just couldn't help yourself. you wanted him to say what he truly had on his mind.

"and who are you to say who gets to break my heart and who doesn't?" your words struck a cord and Dazai's features darkened. it was a damn good point: he wasn't your friend, just a colleague. no, your self proclaimed archenemy. although you've known each other for years, he knew there was no deeper connection between you than the childish rivalry. but that was enough to make Dazai grow attached and develop a sense of ownership over you. or maybe feelings? in any case, how could he possibly allow Chuuya to take you away from him? he swore he could see red before his eyes when your phone's screen lit up and he read Chuuya's name on display.

before you could answer Dazai seized your wrist, wrapping a hand around your jaw to tilt your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze. he brought his face mere inches away from your, so close you could feel his hot breath against your lips as he spoke. "who i am? i'm the one who's been by your side all this time, though thick and thin. yea, you're an annoying brat most of the time and i hate your guts but i'll be damned if i let Nakahara take you away from me. you're mine, got it? i'll take your stupid pictures at the beach and buy you flowers if that's what it takes for you to drop this stupid date"

your breath caught in your throat at his sudden outburst. did he actually confess? it didn't quite feel like it. your gaze mused on his features as you searched for answers, but you didn't find any in the sharp line of his mouth or the furrow of his brows. "so... what are you asking me to do?" you breathed out, a mere whisper that sent shivers down Dazai's spine. he let go of your wrist, wrapping a steady arm around your waist.

shit, he really didn't think this though. he's never been good with his words and now that he had you in his arms, so close he could smell your intoxicatung scent and feel the warmth of your breath on his skin his brain short-circuited. "i... i'm asking you to stay with me tonight. and from now on. i'll take you to dinner instead" he said softly, his harsh features melting away when you nodded. "thought you hated my guts" you chuckled, gathering the courage to cup his face with your hand. his skin was surprisingly soft. Dazai leaned into your touch, a shadow of a smile etching itself on his features "well... i wasn't lying. but i hate the idea of you dating Chuuya more. can't let him put his hands all over my pretty girl" sighed the brunette, his lips ghosting over yours "so? will you stay with me?"

goosebumps raised on your skin as you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips against his. the kiss was heated, desperate but oh so loving. threading his fingers through your hair, Dazai gently tugged at your roots, making you mewl into his mouth. when he pulled back, his signature smirk was back in place. "i'll take that as a yes then?"

"yea, idiot" you giggled, looking down at your phone to hide your blush. "just let me text Chuuya not to come then we can go grab some food"

Dazai nodded, taking a few steps back. he was beyond pleased with himself. though he didn't necessarrily planned to confess, things went smoother than he thought they would. and he finally got a date with the girl he liked and snatched her from Chuuya. there couldn't be any better turn of events. you watched Dazai lean back against the lamppost with a content smile and you could barely suppress a laughter.

opening Chuuya's chat, you quickly typed in a text.

AAGHHSJSJ!!! your plan worked Dazai asked me out. Chuuya you're a fucking genius thanks for this. i owe you big time bestie.

[silverbladexyz]

OKAY so i had a really specific idea in my head, i feel like Tecchou would be super oblivious to someone actually having romantic feelings towards him, and it would definitely take him a while to actually realize what’s going on. Imagine reader working with the hunting dogs and having a crush on Tecchou, always being paired up with him to go on missions together, except he literally has no idea about reader feeling something towards him LMAOOO

(I also feel like Jouno would find out about the whole situation early on because of his enhanced senses yk? Feel free to do basically anything with this thought of mine🧍‍♀️)

-🕯

👀 I like how you think, my dear 🕯 anon >:)

The picture does not belong to me. It belongs to it's original owner.

TW: Mentions of death and kidnapping. Tecchou is oblivious and adorable while Jouno and Tachihara are best wingmans. Gender neutral reader.

Tecchou being oblivious to reader's feelings

-Tecchou, despite being the strongest Hunting Dog, was actually the most endearing of them all. He had a strong sense of justice, he never hesitated to save and protect people, and he always treated you with respect, never once judging you for your mistakes or quirks

-Not to mention, he's really pretty! Those golden eyes of his always hold you captive by how gorgeous they are, and the smoothness of his deep voice never fails to make you weak in the knees. Tecchou has some sort of natural beauty to him that would make him look good regardless of what he was doing or wearing. If he weren't a Hunting Dog, he'd make an excellent model

-He intrigued you at first with his habits. You had never seen food combinations as unique as his, and his patience and unwavering stamina amazed you when he would look at ants and other insects for hours upon end. But you quickly grew to find his oddities cute, and even joined him sometimes as he pondered on which foods to mix together next

-Because your ability worked well alongside Tecchou's, it was natural that the two of you were paired together on a lot of missions. Even if you weren't as strong in the field as he was, you were great at support, as well as rescuing the innocent civilians that were unfortunately caught up in the mess. This boosted up the success rate of the missions by a lot, which meant that you and Tecchou were now assigned to more dangerous and time-consuming operations. You didn't mind, since you had always considered him to be a friend. Until one single mission changed everything for you.

-While rescuing the hostages from the kidnappers, you hadn't anticipated that it was a trap until it was too late. When the last hostage was set free, the enemy snuck up on you and caught you by surprise, resulting in you being knocked unconscious due to the powerful ability your opponent wielded. Then, the adversary decided to use you to lure Tecchou; with no intention of releasing you

-At this point, it was obvious that the most reasonable thing one should do is to retreat and call for backup. You had hoped that your partner did just that, since the hostage-taker did have a very strong ability that could rival Tecchou's. But even though you knew that the enemy was going to kill you anyways, you still hoped internally that someone would rescue you

-Right after you made your wish, your saviour burst in. He engaged the criminal in a fight so ferocious that by the end of it, his opponent was unconscious on the ground while Tecchou was no better. But he still rushed towards you and caught you as you were released from your binds, even when he himself was on the verge of collapsing.

-Then, the realisation hit. Tecchou came back, potentially risking his life just for you.

-And just like that, you were now in love with Tecchou Suehiro. Which was... not as amazing as it seemed. Because 1. Tecchou himself didn't express much emotions, much less understand them, and 2. You didn't want to ruin your friendship with him by confessing to him

-Your secret crush would've remained a secret if it weren't for a certain blind colleague of yours who had a temper to match his attitude. Jouno had certainly picked up on your increased heart beat whenever you were around Tecchou, as well as your palms becoming sweatier than normal. And if that wasn't enough, he could swear that he heard your brain crash whenever you spoke to his colleague

-To be honest, Jouno found it quite amusing, and confronted you right after he found out about your crush on Tecchou. Now, normally, people would have wished you luck with your feelings, but Jouno was Jouno; meaning that he couldn't help but let his sadistic tendencies take over when you asked him to keep it a secret

-Cue him smirking as he teases you a lot. Jouno can and will use this information as blackmail material, albeit harmlessly. He'll ask you to fetch a lot more things for him, or do some small favours for him with the threat of telling Tecchou about your feelings, all while you glare at him and that smug smirk on his face while cursing his name a lot in your head

-But after a while of this, Jouno gets quite tired of hearing the same biological reactions from you every time you saw your crush. He doesn't understand why you refrain from confessing to Tecchou, and only deadpans when you tell him about your fear of ruining your friendship with him. And this, my friends, is when wingman!Jouno comes into play

-You see, deep deep down, Jouno cares about you! (He would never admit it though) Although it was fun to tease you and see your reactions, he found it annoying and pitiful that you were forever stuck in the pining stage. So, like any good Hunting Dog would, he settled down to give you some advice on how to get your oblivious crush to like you back. He even drags Tachihara in on this and subtly threatens him to never tell a single soul about your dilemma

-The first piece of advice was to give Tecchou some special chocolates on Valentines Day. It was already a tradition, and plus why not confess through indirect means and save yourself from a harsher rejection? So you gathered up all the expensive ingredients, and made your own Honmei chocolate*; it took a few tries, but you were determined on making it perfect for Tecchou. In the end, the chocolates were so pristine and velvety-looking that anybody eating them could taste the passionate love you made them with in each bite Jouno stole some of them when you weren't looking

-14th of February rolled around, and you nervously gave Tecchou his chocolates that took you a lot of blood, sweat, and tears to make. You made sure to have gifted your colleagues friendship chocolates so that nothing would seem out of place, yet you still felt nervousness wash over you as you handed the chocolate over to your crush. What if he didn't like it? All your efforts would have been ruined then, and you'll have to buy chocolates for yourself instead so you could drown out your sorrows

-You didn't expect Tecchou to simply say 'Thank you for the chocolates'. I feel like even though Tecchou is denser than the average person, he'd know which dates are festivals and celebrations. This man must have received lots of chocolates when he was still in school because he is reallyyy attractive, so he is familiar with the act of receiving and gifting chocolates

-Your crush then opened the box of delicately crafted chocolates, lifted one up as you watched in anticipation with bated breath.... and he dipped it right into beef sauce and ate it. You swore you heard the biggest facepalm ever from Jouno in the distance, while Tachihara winced and gave you a look filled with sympathy. At least Tecchou was still a gentleman and complimented you on the deliciousness of the aforementioned sweets

-If food didn't work, then you'll resort to impressing him. Under Tachihara's suggestion, you might have a better chance impressing him with random but useful knowledge. Many people find intelligence to be an attractive trait, afterall; and maybe Tecchou was one of those people

-So this ended up in you spending many hours upon researching into topics that Tecchou was interested in, with courtesy to Jouno for being able to get the oblivious man to tell him what things he liked. As expected, Tecchou liked anything to do with foods of the same colour, as well as muscle training and hard-working animals like ants and whatnot. And whenever he was about to eat another one of his food combinations, or gaze at another army of formicidae (scientific word for ants), you would always drop an interesting fact, hoping to catch this pretty man's interest

-Except the most he did was compliment you for your rich knowledge, sometimes even asking you questions about the random facts you said. And when Jouno asked Tecchou what he thought about you, Tecchou only replied 'They're a smart and reliable friend. I'm glad to be paired on missions with them.' Tecchou please😭😭😭

-When you found out that knowledge didn't work, you resorted to what all Hunting Dogs were good at: combat! Well, you weren't necessarily going to fight Tecchou. Under the pretence of wanting to improve your fighting skills, you asked Tecchou to spar with you. He agreed it was your ploy to spend more time with him hehe

-Well, apparently Tecchou took the role of training you up a bit too seriously, because instead of impressing him with a new fancy sword trick you learned recently, you were instead collapsed on the floor, out of breath, while he held a bottle of water and patiently waited for you to recuperate. And... well... he isn't called the strongest Hunting Dog for nothing :')

-After all your failed attempts at trying to woo your crush, Jouno had had enough and resorted to his last attempt: which was shoving you and Tecchou into the storage room and locking the door, promising to let you out once you 'confessed'. Tecchou nearly tore the door off it's hinges, but you managed to persuade him to first listen to what you had to say

-The thing is, this man is so dense that when you said to him 'I like you', he merely replied back 'Me too. You're a great friend to me.' And that, my dear readers, is when Jouno performs the facepalm of the century™ (he's eavesdropping behind the door of the storage room)

-So the only thing that remained was for you to grasp Tecchou by the shoulders, and confess your undying and bottled up love for him all in an ardent torrent of words as you stare into his eyes with a fierce passion that could rival his sense of justice. And by the end of the speech, Tecchou is staring at you, speechless, with widened eyes as he processes your feelings for him

-You were almost about to tear down the door yourself and run away from the sheer tension in the room, but what you did not expect was for Tecchou to say that he felt the same towards you. Apparently, he was like this for quite a few months now, however, he always thought that it was just a strong platonic attraction towards you I lied. Now this is when Jouno performs the facepalm of the century™

-But hey! You and Tecchou are a couple now :D. Jouno and Tachihara couldn't stop internally celebrating when they saw the two of you walk out of the storage room, hand in hand and smiling like a pair of lovebirds Teruko kept asking when the wedding would be

I hope this has been enough to feed the Tecchou stans 🖤

*Honmei chocolate is chocolate that is used to profess one's love on Valentines Day

@circinuus @sariel626 @dazaiyohane @riiwrites @judasgot-it @yuugen-benni @irethepotato @yukitomybeloved @chuuyas-beloved @chunshiya (Please let me know if you wish not to be tagged!)

[tianasficrecs168]

Venom fanfic recs

A black dot • means it's a one-shot

A heart ♡ means it's focused on Sexy times (it's pure filth PWP, or like, a plot focused on getting to the porn part lol)

Wildehack: “Intra-personal negotiation” (Eddie/Venom) • How fucked is that, that a compromise that ended with eating raw shark liver under the Golden Gate Bridge in the dead of night is probably the most interpersonally mature he’s ever been? Intra-personally, Venom corrects, not really paying attention.

Arahir: “Wrapped around your finger” (Eddie/Venom) • Venom goes about love in every wrong way he knows how. Thank god for late night television. “Me. They invited me for dinner,” Eddie insists, trying again to make his hair look some specific way in the mirror. He’s given up and started over three times. It’s a double date. Like on that show. “What—what are you watching that there are double dates? Jesus. I should cancel cable. Make you read a book instead.” No!

Impertinence: “Something Like A Pipe Bomb” (Venom/Eddie) Eddie already had enough problems, what with being a busy reporter with an alien parasite, when he caught one of his neighbors holding a fridge above her head. Now he has twice as many problems, including a kid who won't stop treating him like the big brother she never had and a moody alien parasite. Or: you can totally secretly pine while sharing a brain with someone else, as Venom and Eddie are both determined to prove.

Pepperfield: “That blessed arrangement” (Venom/Eddie) • That’s us, Eddie, Venom says suddenly, with a bizarre amount of intensity. We’re like these two fools. Eddie squints at the screen for a second before he understands. “What, married?” Venom is well aware that they live in a romantic comedy. Eddie isn’t, but he’ll get the picture eventually.

Dezemberzarin: “The no dating policy” (Venom/Eddie) • a two-shot series What’s the point? Eddie glances around to the other people hurrying along the sidewalk, lowers his voice until he’s muttering into the collar of his jacket. “I like sex! I want to have sex again in the future, so you’ll have to find a way to deal with it.” If you say so.

xzombiexkittenx: “Nice to Taste” (Venom/Eddie) • Eddie doesn’t do well when he thinks the symbiote died in the fire. He doesn’t tell Dan that suicide is the reason he’s in this mess in the first place. He didn’t go to the Golden Gate Bridge to throw Anne’s engagement ring into the water, he went there to throw himself but got distracted by Dr. Skirth’s messages and justice against Drake instead.

Tuesday: “Terms of Endearment” (Venom/Eddie) • In which there are accidental pet names, Eddie leaning into being in love with an alien symbiote, and an ill-advised kidnapping. — The first time Eddie called Venom dear, it was automatic. They were shopping, and Eddie bypassed the freezer section to pick up some chocolate first. Venom said, "Don't forget the tater tots." Eddie, well-trained by more than one serious relationship in his life, said, "Yes, dear."

Ottergirl: “Heartthrob” (Venom/Eddie) ♡ • He feels encompassing when Eddie says that, he feels like there's no end to him. All that affection in Eddie's voice and the knowing, knowing he wants to be with Venom, wants to belong to Venom. Eddie calls Venom by a pet name, and Venom likes it. Maybe a little too much.

MercurialTenacity: - “Nightlife” (Venom/Eddie) ♡  • Eddie is soft when he sleeps. During the day he’s wound taut, one thing or another always running through his head and keeping tension in his muscles, but when he’s asleep - oh yes, when he’s asleep his defenses melt away. All the hard edges smooth out, his body goes all loose and pliant, and his mind mellows into the background. Venom loves when Eddie sleeps, and he does it for hours at a time. Sometimes even eight or nine. Nine whole hours, and Venom has its host’s warm body right there to explore.

Redredribbons: “Storms” (Venom/Eddie) • The Symbiote struggles to understand human habits and biorhythms. Especially Eddie's, when his own brain seems intent on sabotaging him.

Stereobone: “No Idea That You’re in Deep” (Venom/Eddie) ♡  • If the last eight months have shown Eddie anything, it's that foresight is not his strong suit.

Surveycorpsjean: - “Lovesick Baby” (Venom/Eddie) Eddie spent his whole life alone in his head. Now he’s not sure he could ever go back. Sometimes, you want things you shouldn't.

[kimaswork]

Could you pretty pleeeeeaaaassseee do a work of Thoma x Male!reader?? Or a Tighnari x Male!reader?

I love them both so choosing between them was really hard, buuuuut I had to go with my fennec fox baby. For the good luck on hopefully losing a 50/50 to him lol

"Dammit..." You mumbled under your breath as you picked through bushes to get berries. You were currently gathering ingredients for Gandharva Villes... medic? He was a the main forest troupe, leader, person, thingy, you didn't keep track of his titles very well. But you knew he was important and that he took care of the forest, the scouts, and most importantly, you.

Tighnari had recently started dating you, having asked you out nearly two or three months prior.

Hearing your quiet curse with his fox-like ears from the other side of the river, his head perked up. "You okay over there Lo?" He asked, his voice clearly concerned.

'Lo' was his nickname for you. You were his little lotus that bloomed and grew more beautiful everyday. You adored the name, it quickly became one of your favorites.

"Yea- Just these darn thorns, always pokin' me..." You responded, your voice growing more quiet near the end as your answer turned more into complaining.

Softly chuckling he walked through the shallow water, the ripples making the nearby golden bass swim away. "Here-" He said softly, his voice smooth. You could tell he was close by the way you could feel his warm breath on your neck, making a light blush creep up your cheeks. Turning you saw he was giving you his gloves. "Oh babe no, you need those-" You began before promptly getting cut off. "My hands will be fine Lo, I've gotten scratches before. But I want your hands to be okay, Archons knows how clumsy you can be." He says with a playful smirk as he pulls the gloves onto your hands for you, not giving you another chance to refute.

"And I don't want to have to treat my little lotus for a few scratches if I can help it." He mumbles as he pulls your hands up to his mouth and kisses your knuckles, his long ears sticking out and tickling your nose as he did so, making you laugh.

Once he had finished with his affections he released your hand and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. "There- all better." He states confidently.

A quick glance to your basket later and he has you by the hand, walking to another bush full of berries. "This one here is full of ripe ones!" He says as he kneels down and picks at the miniscule fruits with you, throwing them into the basket.

Time passed slowly as the two of you gather ingredients for the infirmary, but you were content, you were with your boyfriend, so you saw this as a date. Over the span of multiple hours the pair of you gathered berries, lotus', sweet flowers, mints, and many other plants. Each plant the two of you picked was a new conversation starter, 'Nari had so many facts about medicinal properties and plants to tell you and you just let him go on. Truth be told you had no clue what he was going on about, but his voice was so soothing to you, so you simply listened to his rambles.

After the sun began going down you returned to Gandharva Ville to be met with a warm welcome from Collei. "Master Tighnari!" She said with a smile. He smiles back at her and the two began chatting away which had a massive grin crossing your face.

You were so thankful for the traveler, thanks to them Irminsul was saved and Elizar is a disease of the past. You had never seen Collei so upbeat and happy before, you were estatic you could see her as such.

You went to Tighnaris hut and began making the both of you dinner to share, this had became your routine. Tonight you were feeling a but lazy however, so you made simple chicken mushroom skewers. As you were setting the table 'Nari came in and helped you finish up then sat down to eat with you.

Mundane as the day was, it was sweet. Being with your boyfriend made your heart soar and it only got better when he said. "It's late. You should stay the night."

Oh Archons. When you say your heart was soaring.... Clearly you said yes and before you knew it the two of you were curled up in his cot, all cuddled up and cozy. His fluffy tail was draped over your waist like an extra blanket and your arms were around his neck.

Peeking over him you saw you still wore his gloves. "Oh, one moment." You whispered in his ear as you sat up to peel off the gloves and set them on his nightstand before lying back down in his arms with a smile. "Better?" He asked. You responded with a nod. "Thanks for letting me use your gloves, though I'm sure I would've been fine with a few scratches. Even if I had to wait in line to get patched up, I'd live." You chuckled. With a playful roll of his eyes and a shake of his head he kissed your nose to grab your attention.

"Lo, you wouldn't wait in any line for me to patch you up and of course I'd give you my gloves." He says, his gentle green eyes gazing into your soul. "You are my priority. My main priority. My first and foremost." He states, honesty in his words.

You knew you loved this man, but now you were pretty sure you wanted to marry him on the spot. He tenderly kissed you before pulling you close and cuddling you to sleep for the night.

I think I might like to try to get into trying some headcannons of some of the characters, so gimme ideas of scenarios and characters that you'd like to see!

[mychlapci]

hi sunstreaker anon (the one who sent you the smash or pass) i have not stopped thinking about his rancid ass since i first stumbled across his wiki page so you get to bare witness to my insanity!

so like.... sunstreaker would be a prissy bitch in bed. i think we can all agree that his ass would constantly be complaining about something

"oh don't touch me there, you'll scratch my finish" or "if you go any harder it'll be difficult to buff out the paint transfers" he would do literally anything other than admit he's a kinky motherfucker who enjoys being roughed up.

this leads to most bots assuming that he doesn't want to get fragged, bc his general personality and reputation as a brutal frontliner combined means that when he says "no" (even if he doesn't really mean it and just wants to play hard to get), he really does mean "no" and then everyone leaves him alone.

sooooo here's my idea. fucking glory hole. for uh.... morale purposes.... it's anonymous and those who sign up remain unknown to the rest of the army and by this point sunstreaker has gotten real desperate, like leaking behind his panels whenever someone on the battlefield manages to rough him up kinds of desperate. and well... he'd let whatever con got a hold of him in a fight get a lick at his valve but he's conveniently never alone and someone is always there to save him. so he's really fucking pissy from lack of getting spike

so he signs up for the glory hole, bc what the fuck else is he supposed to do besides suffer

and it goes soooo well. sunstreaker spends the whole night getting his valve pounded into oblivion, without anyone worrying about pissing him off from going at it too hard. he ends the solar cycle with transfluid dripping out of him and a processor that's been so thoroughly fucked that he needs to take a good hour or so to properly get back into his own mind.

bonus points if he's got piercings (you know he does), that line his valve and conduct charger better. maybe even a stud pierced right through his anterior node with a chain attached to his valve lips so that whenever someone goes really hard, it makes him overload from sheer sensation alone.

in the following solar cycles, everyone notices how nice he's been as of late and start treating him a little better, maybe someone starts to catch onto his games and then they fuck nasty in a supply closet or something extra bonus points if the bot also used the glory hole and recognises the wonderfully plush mesh lining and the pretty golden gems pierced through the valve lips

anon, you are slowly making me positively insane about Sunstreaker.

Poor Sunstreaker, cursed with a kink that goes against everything he stands for. No one even offers to fuck him anymore, they either dislike him too much or are scared of him or someone told them what an absolute bitch he is in bed and they don't wanna deal with that. And all his no's are taken as hard no's, even if they're not, even if he's just trying to play a game. Sunstreaker is so horny all the time, he hasn't taken a real spike in ages, no one's even gotten to compliment the piercings he had done, and he's been getting increasingly desperate, so desperate that he'd let himself be pinned down by whatever non-descript decepticon he can find and pop open his panels open for them...

Sunstreaker resorting to a glory hole, pressing his pretty pussy against the hole in the wall of the stall and biting his lip as a thick spike is shoved into him without warning. They don't know who he is and he doesn't know who they are, so it's perfect. Sunstreaker can finally get fucked without restraint. His beautiful pieced valve gets split open on dozens of spikes, and soon enough the side of the wall is stained with his lubricant and loads upon loads of transfluid. The bots on the other side tug at his piercings and play with his pussy, they tease when they hear his engine revv from the other side of the wall...

I can't shake off the image of pretty, pristine Sunstreaker splayed over a filthy public toilet, his sore valve ruined and twitching as thick transfluid leaks out of him. He's overloaded so many times his legs refuse to work, he has to sit there and shake through the aftershocks, staring up at the cieling with a blissed out look on his face.

Mhmm, people recognizing Sunstreaker's pussy after that. They don't say anything but he knows they know when they start fucking him harder, treating him like a little whore <3

[svcredveins]

Came across a Tiktok audio that really hit me with nostalgia, but also, the words are true. Respect goes such a long way when coming across people’s opinions or beliefs and that is what is severely lacking these days. I speak on behalf of the cardiophile community, not only just us, but many other communities as well and it’s sad to see that one simple belief can really cause so much conflict and suffering when we can all just agree to disagree like adults. We are not children, we are not fighting for what crayon colour is better, we are grown adults who have gone through childhood already and has to make grown up decisions in this world. Opening up a different perspective on people can really change your own views to make peace with yourself and others around you.

I know this is out of the blue, but I felt inspired to make this in Assetto Corsa Competizione after hearing the audio on titkok. It’s so true though, and it’s sad to see the world have no sight of respect for people because kindness goes a long way even if it seems silly to you. It is the golden rule that I have grown up on. “Treat others the way you want to be treated.”

Like for example too, if someone makes a video edit that they’ve worked hours on, why comment to say that you look like you have Parkinson’s disease? It’s just rude and disrespectful. And yes, that’s what happened to my post on Reddit lol, but that’s the example I’m giving. If you don’t like something or someone, you are not obligated to, but you are certainly obligated to respect others and move on because you can just simply scroll by instead of snapping at a person to ruin their day. Some people may take it harder than others, so words are like a two edged sword; be careful what you say.

Even goes with saying about respecting women as well on this app. Thankfully I don’t think I’ve seen any big drama on here lately, but it goes without saying that regardless of any situation, respect would make the world a better place.

Anyway, in times like this though, this definitely needs to be resurfaced. It brought me major nostalgia because I used to watch Markiplier years ago lol. Enjoy this edit I made yesterday. Also, I finally did a thing!!! I did two edits in one day! I finally finished my Kyalami race recap after nearly two weeks of not doing it haha

[hourglass-dreams]

My Story With Encanto

(I apologize for not posting this yesterday! I was so busy because of holiday but here it is now ❤️)

How I Discovered Encanto

I will be completely honest with all of you, I've never really been a big fan of Disney Animation Studios (I ADORE Pixar though). Not only because of the company itself, but because a lot of the movies didn't resonate with me, particularly the modern ones. The only modern ones from the studios I like are Tangled, Zootopia and Moana so when I heard of Disney making "Encanto", I wasn't too interested. The only thing I knew about it was a particular song trending wildly on Tik Tok, (you know what it is 😂). I had no idea it was from Encanto originally, I thought people were cancelling Bruno Mars over something and they made a song about it 😂.

That was until my best friend got into it in late January/early Feburary and reccomended it to me. We have similar taste but when it came to this, I was skeptical. But, I gave it a chance! I watched it on Disney+ and I think at first, I wasn't really that into it. I liked it! It was just one of those things I needed to watch again to get the full grasp of, if that makes sense.

So. near Valentine's Day I watched it again with my then girlfriend, and that's REALLY where it hit me. The story, the characters, everything felt so real to me even though I am not from a Latino household. That's how the hyperfixation started!

Why I Love This Film

There is something so beautiful when a movie reflects a culture different from yours and does it as well as this one. I was so revealed when I saw actual Latin Americans, actual Colombians, talking about how authentic this movie was. It opened my eyes to a different view of life and family, it has filled me with so much sympathy for these families who have to endure generational trauma and oppression that impacts them in so many ways. The cast of characters is also SO diverse and feel like genuine people, not some walking stereotype.

Speaking of characters, I cannot tell you how much I've resonated with Mirabel and her story. It's rare for me to relate to Disney protagonist so this was a huge surprise. Not only do we both have curly hair, hazel eyes and glasses, but I understand wholeheartedly feeling out of place in your own family and feeling like you'll never be good enough. I am the only adopted biracial child in my family, I am also disabled and LGBTQ+, I also do not share the same religious views as most of my family so growing up, I struggled and still struggle so much with finding my worth and purpose. Mirabel also has the same exact personality that I had when I was younger. Energetic, bubbly, and kinda got on people's nerves (I'm also the youngest of three brothers) 😂. I'm also sensitive and try my best to understand different perspectives. (We're also both Pisces??? I swear, the similarities are a little scary).

Another character that doesn't remind me of myself, but of my oldest brother is Bruno. He doesn't have the same personality or anything, but how my family treats him as "the one we don't speak to or about except on holidays" reminds me so much of how the Madrigals basically act like Bruno doesn't exist and if he does, that's bad. My brother and I are both LGBTQ+ but since he was the first one to come out, my parents shut him out and understandably, he distanced himself greatly. Even though he was around (kind of?) when I was growing up, he always felt so far away and I never understood why until I got to an age where I could comprehend it. He lived about 2 hours away and I wasn't able to visit him that often because of distance and my mom thought he would be a "bad influence".

Isabela reminds me of my current best friend when we were both in middle school. She was kinda popular and treated as a golden child and that made her act well.. not too nice. (But I wasn't that nice to her either). Especially when were in music class together, our teacher at the time always pinned us together for some reason, and that made us absolutely HATE each other. It was actually when she got involved with this obnoxious boy that broke her heart where we found middle ground 😂 and realizing that we have more in common then we thought. (This is the same friend that introduced me to this movie!)

This may be why I latched onto Isabela, Mirabel and Bruno the way I did.

I will admit though, when I first watched the movie, I didn't think I would like Isabela as much as I did. I feared that she was going to be this hyperfeminine "mean girl" stereotype Hollywood loves to shove in our faces. I am so happy they didn't do that with her, her arc and character as a whole feels so relatable and raw.

And of course I love everyone else! Luisa is such good representation for those of us who take on more than we need to, older sibling or not. It's so awesome to see a muscular woman with a lower voice in a Disney film! The dynamic between the couples in this movie feel so warm and again.. authentic. It's so adorable!! I wish we could have gotten more of the warm colored family but I understand why we didn't. Maybe in a series we will!

The music is also just... way too good 😂. Another thing is that I barely knew who Lin-Manual Miranda was, I knew what Hamilton was but I never got into it because musicals were just not my thing. (I've started to get interested in them because of Theatre class and this movie).

But I knew this was a musical of course, and I did not expect I would love the music this much. I still listen to the soundtrack and I love all of the songs the same! I swear this is the only movie where the main character has a song that I can sing in my own range 😂 along with some of the others. Waiting On A Miracle and What Else Can I Do? in particular struck me (and they're the most overlooked!)

Why I Love The Fandom

Despite the really weird and problematic a part of this fandom has done, I can't deny the sheer amount of creativity, passion, love, and understanding this fandom has. From the fanart, fanfictions, headcanons, fan events, and fan made songs, this is one of the few fan bases that have made me feel like I was part of a family. I've met so many wonderful people in this community and learned so much about Latin American culture from being part of this and I am so thankful.

No matter how much time passes, all of this will have a special place in my heart.

I Love You All ❤️

[no-one-of-consequence]

Trail Marker: Ode to a broken friendship

Not everyone you love will stay. I first internalized this about 8 months ago and it was one of the first steps I took toward really healing from a broken friendship that had haunted me for 9 years.

I first met (T) during the best summer of my life, 2011. He was adjacent to the very close-knit group of friends we had created, but he was always welcome in our ranks. (T) had this infectious personality, and although he would never admit to it, people gravitated toward him easily. (T) had a natural talent for making you feel like you were the most important person in the world. He was funny, insightful, and a natural at showing empathy. He was a psychology major, and very good at helping people process their feelings and problems. I always found it easy to be open and honest with (T).

Our friendship really blossomed during the following winter. My wife and I decided to remain in WI and continue working at the summer camp we had been living at for their winter retreat season. During the summer months, the camp has hundreds of employees and everyone kind of knows each other. In the winter, the staff is much more limited, instead of hundreds there were maybe 30 people. This camp was pretty isolated from the rest of the world, so everyone living together created some much deeper bonds.

(T) and I became very close through our mutual love-language, quality time. We could talk for hours about nothing, and everything. By the end of this first winter (T) and I knew literally everything there was to know about each other. He was even brave enough to confide in me that he was gay. In the present day this may seem like a trivial thing, but the camp we were living at did not have a great track record of treating LGBTQ individuals well, so this was a huge secret. We had a mutual love of games. And there were so many nights where we stayed up very late playing Settlers of Catan. (I plan to write a love letter to that game someday).

Toward the end of the following summer it was time for us to go our separate ways. The camp we were living at had a pretty strict policy that they were “a sending place”. Meaning people who were not on the full-time staff needed to leave after an arbitrary amount of time. For (T), his time was up. (T) was an incredibly skilled potter, and a total master of ceramic creations. To this day I have never met a more skilled artist. Some of the pieces he created for me are still among my most prized and cherished possessions. Including a full dinner plate set themed after Settlers of Catan, and 12 pirate themed drinking cups each with their own Jolly Roger themed after real pirates from the golden age of piracy. (T) was leaving WI to move to Montana to be an understudy in some major ceramics studio. Even though he left, we stayed in touch often over the phone and skype. And when we would talk, it was as if he was right there with me again.

A year passed, and (T) had moved to PA to participate in another apprenticeship. When we would meet on skype he confided in me that he was miserable in PA, and that outside of the people working at the studio he had no real friends or connections. I tried to convince (T) to move back to WI and try and make a life for himself here. I said it would be better to be surrounded by people who love you, than to do what you love but be miserable. (T) decided to take a chance and follow my advice, he moved back to WI and moved in with us while we all searched for a larger living space that could accommodate all of us. Deciding to live together would end up being the first step toward the breaking of this friendship, but I did not know it at the time.

We found a decently sized living space, and all moved in together. After the first couple of months tensions began. And daily annoyances would creep their way in as we both realized that we were hard people to live with. My wife was also pregnant with our first daughter at this time, and life would soon be changing dramatically. As the due date approached, tensions were at an all time high and (T) and I had a massive fight. It was only verbal in nature, but we both said things that cut each other to the very core. The friendship was damaged by this irreparably. Although we both said sorry, and it seemed like things were getting better, they weren’t. I felt so guilty about this. So much so that I thought it might be best if my wife and I moved back to our beloved little apartment and (T) went to stay with his other finds who lived in town. They had offered this to him, but he was reluctant to do so. I am under the impression that he still wanted to make living together work.

However, I did not see it this way. In my mind, there was only one option, and that was to live separately. I tried to find the right time to break this news to (T), but that moment never came. When I did eventually tell him, he took the suggestion very hard, and very personally. We had another fight, and this time it was apparent that I had wounded him. I specifically remember him saying “You said to move here and be surrounded by people who love me, and now you are throwing me away like trash. Is that so easy for you?” I had never seen him in so much mental and emotional pain before.

(T) became very distant despite my constant efforts to repair this situation. But no matter what I did, it wasn’t enough. The damage had been done. The day after my first daughter was born (T) came to visit us in the hospital. When I handed him our daughter I could feel his heart sink. He seemed happy to see her but I think he knew that this was also going to be the end of our friendship. Too many things were going to be different now, and our new little family was going to need space to grow on its own. I will never forget the pained look on his face as he sat in our hospital room.

The very next day (T) moved out. I went to see him while he was packing and he wouldn’t even speak to me. I sat on the floor in his room as he packed his things in silence and then left. I stayed in his empty room most of the night thinking about what I had done, and how I had hurt him. There was truly nothing I could do. Any future attempts I would make at contacting him would always be met with silence. No returned texts, calls or emails. The gravity of this broken friendship scarred me deeply for many years, and the passage of time never made it easier. I would have a hard time making meaningful friendships for many years after this, with rare exceptions. I would hold people who I really wanted to be close with at arm’s length out of fear of being hurt again.

9 years passed, and I was still not even remotely healed. Somewhere between 2013-2015 I decided to leave social media behind for a myriad of reasons. Over all this was a good life choice, but it did mean I had no way of checking in on friends. I was also still so heartbroken by the loss of (T)’s friendship that I really didn’t care, because I was afraid that I might hurt someone again. In the summer of 2023 I decided to simply google (T) and see if anything came up. To no surprise, he was doing well and seemed to be producing his pottery and ceramics professionally now. I was brave and sent him a DM on IG, asking for the opportunity to apologize. Again, I did not receive a response and I felt the crushing weight of my heartbreak return.

I tried to let it go, but I couldn’t. The only thing in the world I wanted was for him to know I was sorry. It was my all-consuming thought, and for months I agonized over how I would be able to tell him. In December he posted that he was going to be selling his pottery at a Christmas event. I was not brave enough to attend the event myself. I approached my brother (D) for help, and asked him to attend the event and deliver my apology letter to (T). Knowing that this had been tearing me apart for almost a decade, he accepted.

When (D) returned he told me that (T) was warm and receptive to receiving the letter but that he was going to read it later. (D) said that he showed genuine interest in knowing how we were doing, and asked about our kids and wanted to know if we were happy. I thanked (D) for his role in what I had hoped would be the first step toward reconnecting with (T). In the letter, I had given (T) all of my contact info including my IG which was how I had found him.  I eagerly waited for a response of any kind. In the following week (T) blocked me in IG.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. But it was still a shock. In that letter I had laid bare by heart and apologized for everything I could think of. Maybe too much time had passed. Maybe the feelings were too complicated. Maybe, it was too much to ask for a response. I don’t know. But for the first time in 9 years I felt something new, not sorrow, not heartbreak, but relief. Even though it was yet another rejection, I had still accomplished my true goal of letting him know I was sorry. And no amount of therapy, or reassurance from people I care about was ever as helpful as simply being blocked. To finally know that that door is truly closed was more liberating than any mantra I could tell myself, or any self-help literature I have ever read. Closure, true closure, was more than I could have ever hoped for. Sure, it would have been nice to hear something as simple as “Thank you for saying sorry, but I’m not in a place to be your friend again”. But as crazy as it might seem I actually prefer it this way.

I have been on a major healing journey ever since, and NOW things are getting better. NOW, time is beginning to heal old wounds, and NOW I am finally starting to open up to people again without fear of losing them. There are so many people in my life who I would consider to be good friends, but during the past 9-year period I never fully let them in or really ever discussed my real feelings with them. In an attempt to promote further healing, and to prevent stagnation I have been working tirelessly on reconnecting with old friends. I don’t want to let good friendships slip away anymore. This has been a major focus for me this late summer, and early fall and I hopeful that things will continue to go well. I am not as practiced at reaching out to people as I once was, but I am making an effort!

I want to end with a quote that has stuck with me this year as I have slowly begun to heal. There is no name attached to it, and I don’t remember the source. But it has really helped me through this time. And I hope some day it helps others as well.

“Healing has taught me that honesty won't ruin real connections. Expressing your feelings won’t cost you anything valuable. Setting boundaries won’t drive away the right people. And authenticity won’t jeopardize genuine relationships. Remember this the next time you feel down when someone withdraws from you. Respect yourself, share your feelings, set boundaries, and hold yourself accountable for your feelings.  Just because someone was a part of your story, does not mean that they have to be part of your destiny.” Sincerely, ~ (Z)

[bluebellhairpin]

Not Jealous

Bruce Wayne X Batmom!Reader

A/N: So I worked on this instead of like, five other things that people want but hey - gal’s gotta have her vices. - Nemo

Summary: Even after years of fancy gatherings, Bruce wants nothing more than to give in to his introvert nature and run away from them. You however, have taught him that after sticking it out, they might not be so bad. 

Warnings: Flirting. Bruce get’s jealous but not really ‘cause Batman doesn’t get jealous. Reader has she/her pronouns and is referred to as uh ‘wife’ multiple times. 

Listening to: ‘Can’t Take My Eye’s Off You’ by Frankie Valli - ‘Pardon the way that I stare, there's nothin' else to compare... You're just too good to be true.’ 

Series Masterlist

Masterlist  

Gala’s were something that Bruce never really liked. 

As Bruce Wayne - the billionaire, playboy, golden child, Prince of Gotham - he couldn’t get to enough of them. 

As Batman - the brooding, ‘I work alone but not really’, Protector of Gotham - he avoided them at all costs. 

But as himself - the friend, father, husband, Bruce - his thoughts on such events could only be described as apathetic. 

Over the years he grew a very nice façade to hide how he truly felt. After the entrance of his wife, and then each child that followed, it became easier to fake, and he did have to admit they became a little more enjoyable with proper company anyway. 

Of course, the first time he saw she who would be his wife at one of these events, she was hanging off the arm of some blond, tanned, rich member of high society. From his knowledge and meetings with her on the streets she wasn’t exactly supposed to be enjoying it as much as she looked like she was. 

Turns out she was one great faker too. 

Over the course of the past seventeen-ish years, Bruce got to know the various ways you dealt with these gala’s. 

While he was tempted with the recluse lifestyle everyday, you managed to get him out of the house when it was needed. Even if it was a big house, he still needed to get out of it sometimes. 

With the outings you used to force him on, he was able to learn a thing or two from you. You weren’t born into wealth like he was, and you never had it until you married him, but you took to it like a fish to water. Well, the avoiding attention part anyway. In fact, when it came to going to gala’s with you, he was surprised at how little attention you drew when you didn’t want it. 

The first time you went as a couple, and then again as a married couple, were the worst as far as being left alone went, and he did expect it. Newspapers craved that sort of thing. 

After that, when it was just him and you, the most you were asked of was the journey between the car and the front door thanks to the press and media - once inside you could sulk away to a corner or table, get up for a dance or two, loiter at the bar and then go home without anymore than a half dozen people approaching. Those were very good nights for Bruce, mainly because on those nights he’d rather be anywhere else. 

As if he didn’t feel that way about them anyway. 

But lately your trick of not gaining attention at the gala’s wasn’t working anymore. It wasn’t that people were noticing him again, no it was because they were noticing you. 

Namely someone kept noticing you. 

“You both have never looked more alike.” 

Tim slid into a set opposite Bruce and Damian. Bruce had a crystal tumbler filled with ginger ale pressed to his lips, unmoving as his eyes locked onto where you stood across the room. Damian was in the exact same position, whether knowingly or not, and was sending a glare towards the man who was looking far too happy about talking to you. 

“We are kind of literally related, Tim.” Bruce mumbled, sipping his drink before setting it down and leaning back in his seat.

“He’s too close.” Damian whispered.

“I know.” 

“She could get uncomfortable soon.”

“I know.”

“If it bothers you so much then either of you could go over there and whisk her away.” Tim said, shaking his head a little. “Bruce could pull out his charisma, or the gremlin could pretend to ask for a dance with his mother all cute and mother-son-like.”

Damian switched his glare over to Tim.

“Why don’t you go and fix it since you’re so smart?”

“‘Cause it’s not bothering me as much as it is you.” Tim laughed. Bruce looked between his two sons, then up to where you and the man were talking. “She can handle herself. Plus he’s way below her league anyway, if she doesn’t know that then something’s wrong.” 

“You don’t think Ummi’s being mind controlled right now, do you?” Damian asked, sitting straighter and squinting a little. “We should go home and -”

Bruce stood, patting Damian’s shoulder as he pushed his chair back in, and then strode over to your side. 

As usual, you noticed his approach with barely having to look, and reached out an arm as he pressed his side to yours. His arm wound it’s way around your waist, and he offered his free hand to the man whose conversation he probably just ruined. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Bruce Wayne.” he said, lips tight in one of the best and believable fake smiles he’s put on in his entire life. 

“Henry Syrus.” The man said, stepping to match Bruce’s fake pleasantries with his own, “I was just having the most wonderful conversation with your darling wife about the art pieces here. 

“Next time you should compare novelty keychains.” Bruce’s voice was light, but you could tell there was a little something underneath. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take her away for a dance before the night dies down too much.” 

So without another word, Bruce swept you away and onto the dancefloor with the hoard of other swaying couples. 

���You need to practice that.” 

“Practice what?” he asked, looking down at you as his fingers intertwined with yours. 

“The ‘I’m taking my wife away from someone who makes me feel like they’re making her feel weird’ thing you just pulled.” you said, a small smile twitching onto your features from your lips up to your eyes - your first genuine smile of the night - and Bruce was proud to think it was because of him. 

“I did that?” he mused, feigning thought for a moment, “I don’t think I did.” 

“Well you weren’t jealous. Everyone - including you! - says Bruce Wayne does not get jealous.” Bruce spun you away, and then back closer to him again. Closer than before. 

“I don’t need to get jealous, I know you can’t resist me.” he mumbled against your ear, then pressed a kiss to your cheekbone before leaning back some again. “That’s why you keep sticking around.”

“I thought I stuck around because you’re filthy rich and never at home, so that I have the place to do as I please.” 

“Okay, okay,” he said, chuckling, “Now you’re really teasing me.” 

“I’m just getting started.” you said, a sly glint in your eye that made his arm around you tighten. 

“Oh? Dare I ask what else you have in store?” he replied, preparing to meet whatever you came up with. You hummed at him, surveying the room and fellow dancers before looking back up at him again.

“I’m gonna take you home, pull you into our bedroom, and take you out of this monkey suit -”

“- it’s a tux, not a suit -”

“- I’m going to take you out of this tuxedo,” you corrected, tugging on his tie as he smiled down at you, “And then we’re gonna sleep for twelve. Whole. Hours.” He groaned. 

“You love me so much. You know exactly what to say. You treat me so well.” 

“I know.” you said, smiling up at him. He couldn’t help but press his lips to yours in something a little longer than a peck, and you hummed again. “Now you’re making Henry jealous with all the faces you’re making.” 

“How can you tell, you can’t see him?” he asked. Looking over, he was able to see that, yes, the man you were with before wasn’t looking incredibly happy at the moment. 

“I’m a mother of at least five children, Bruce. And I have to deal with you. I can tell when someone’s glaring at my back.” 

“I do glare a lot.” He grimaced. “I should’ve known better.” 

“Underestimate me again and you’ll pay for it.”

“And if I do then you can name your price, my dear.”

[fizzycherrycola]

UK Bros Weekend WIP

I’m still working on my PrUK story, I swear, but this came to me in a dream and I had to write it down. Words in (brackets) are just basic notes of what I want to happen. Please keep in mind, this is a WIP, nothing here is finished. Warnings for England being a bit of a twat.

Windsor, UK; 2 February 1901

(The air is cold and damp. Nipping. Ice clings to brick.)

Wales shakes his arms, making the frost fall from his greatcoat, impervious to the aura of death and solemnity that, like the shrouds of the snivelling women who today line cobblestone streets, does drape over Windsor’s train station.  

Slipping his hand into one of many pockets, his fingers wiggle about, then clasp around paper wrap. He smiles. Pulling the small bundle out, he tears open the package without so much as glancing at the label.

Scotland raises one of his great, shaggy brows. “A biscuit?” he asks. “Where’d you get that?”

“From a bakery in London,” Wales says, gazing at the confection’s fancy crucifix design. “Shop windows were piled with them; you should’ve seen it. Loads of different flavours, too.”

With a crunch, he bites into it, rolling his tongue along the golden-brown edge to avoid spilling crumbs on his ceremonial outfit. It’s a lovely flavour, pungent ginger with a dash of cinnamon, causing his toes to curl. The treat is almost enough to help him forget today’s awful weather.

(Ireland action.) “Is that a mourning biscuit?” (Describe him. Matching greatcoat and helmet. Stubborn lock of red hair poking out the front. The strap looks too tight.)

“Mmm!” (Mouthful of biscuit.) “It is. Would you like one? I’ve got more.” (Patting his pocket. He has several stashed in preparation for the long day.)

Ireland snorts. “I'm not sin-eating for a Famine Queen.”

Wales deflates. “That’s not fair. It’s only sin-eating if you eat it over her open coffin.”

“No, it’s.... Isn’t it if she’s within spitting distance?”

“But she’s not even that,” Scotland mumbles, nodding at Queen Victoria’s casket.  

(Describe it, coming off the train. Humans treating it with reverence. Readying it for the final procession to Windsor castle.)

Ireland hums. “Not spitting distance for you, maybe, but if that wind picks up again, I'd probably be able-”

“Shh!!” England hisses. (England action. He’s in front of them in the procession, just behind the carriage.) “For God’s sakes, will you lot be quiet?”

(The trio grumbles, shuffling in place. Cobblestones. Wales’ feet hurt. Dress boots.)

“(Fuck off)” Ireland moans. “We’ve been on our feet all day in the damn cold.”

(England action.) “All day?! It’s only been a few hours!” (England squints at Wales.) “...Are you eating?”

As if it would help, Wales hides the biscuit behind his back.

He shrugs. “Well, I haven’t had luncheon and it’s already noon. Figured we were allowed a bite to eat in-between processions. Besides, Her Late Majesty’s not attached to the carriage yet.”

(Ireland is amused.) “Aye, that’s military code. Procession can’t begin until the deceased is on the carriage.”

“And I’m starving.”

“You wouldn’t want him collapsing on route to the chapel.”

“Yes, and... well, I don’t think I’d collapse, but-”

“It’d embarrass the whole empire,” Ireland continues. (Sarcasm. More taunting. “You really need to be meticulous about this sort of thing.”)

England pinches the bridge of his nose and curses under his breath.  

(Describe him. Fringe from helmet nearly hiding his face. Wales feels bad, for a moment. Recall the effort England put into this thing. Humans were frantic. Military funeral for a royal, never done before.)  

(England action.) “Could all of you at least try to show some bloody respect? Christ, look at Australia – even he’s being civil. We’re almost at the chapel, and after the ceremony, you can bugger off and do whatever you’d like. But until then, keep quiet!”  

(He turns away with a huff.)

(Wales fiddles the last bite of biscuit.) “...Ireland?” he whispers.

(Ireland doesn’t answer immediately.) “What?”

“I meant what I said about the biscuits. I’m not helping the Queen get to heaven; I was just hungry.”

(Ireland studies him for a moment before sighing.) “It’s fine.” (He looks tired.) “What flavours have you got?”

“Oh.” (Wales action.) “I think I’ve got ginger, shortbread, buttermilk, almond....”

“Buttermilk.”

(Wales gives it to him. He opens it. It’s a skull design. Ireland gives a wry smile. He reads aloud the poem slip.)

“Thee we adore, eternal Name, And humbly own to thee, How feeble is our mortal frame! What dying worms we be.

Our wasting lives grow shorter still As days and months increase; And every beating pulse we tell, Leaves but the number to be leased.

The year rolls round and steals away, The breath that first it gave; Whate’er we do, whate’er we be, We’re travelling to the grave.”

(Wales action, finishing his own cookie.) “Oh, that’s an omen.”

(Scotland action.) “It’s not an omen. They print that poetry shite on half the wrappers; it doesn’t mean a thing.”

“He’s right,” (Ireland action.) “It’s just a reminder, warning humans that it all ends eventually.” (Ireland pops it in his mouth. Chews and swallows.)

(Psst! Australia catches their attention, behind them, where a few of the colonies stand together. He asks for a cookie. Wales tries to pass him one without moving from his place in the unmoving procession. Australia reaches, then his eyes go wide and he immediately snaps back to position, arms at his sides. Wales turns and sees England glaring at Australia. Then he turns back to the front.)

(Awkward quiet. Describe the scene. What led them there, to Windsor, the procession in London. The sobbing people that lined the streets. Most just gawking. And the pomp of the whole thing. The public display, the train to Windsor, the white horses, the military parade, the trumpets, the gun carriage. You’d think a queen had never died before. Most funerals of monarchs were performed quietly, but not this one. This is a departure from the norm.)  

(Wales doesn’t mind too much. It’s like a big, macabre celebration of death. The occult and superstition are as close as he can get to the old days. When magic beautifully intertwined with history and science. But for the sake of his brothers... Perhaps a quiet and speedy funeral would have been better.)

(To be continued...)

Speech patterns might change and some paragraphs might move around, but that’s about the first half of the story. Hoping to finish it before Halloween.

EDIT: THIS STORY HAS BEEN FINISHED!! Please read the full version HERE!

[broomsticks]

autumn/halloween mini fic rec list — remadora edition

bingo board made by @acnelli for the hpfc server!

GHOSTS: the fiction of realness by @evesaintyves (4.5k, M)

made this rec list just for the excuse to rec this fic tbh, havent stopped thinking about since i read it the other week. summary: Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and the ways they haunt each other and the people they left behind.

i loveee vaguely angsty ~literary~ refs in my fic and this one got me with that wuthering heights quote (that one, you know the one) in the summary. also beautiful writing (Dust-motes tizzy in the slatted sunbeams, bright and wild as campfire sparks. The questionmark shape of Tonks's waist and hip in her half-sprawled sleeping posture have become so familiar over these last weeks that desire no longer surges through him at the sight. Her aura of flyaway hairs is whitegold and brilliant in the sunbeams, like her spirit has soaked through the package of her body, a little, in the night.)

— and amazing concepts and ideas. without spoiling too much, there are certain story elements about non-narratively told / retrospective canon-compliant remadora that always get me, and these ones are particularly well done.

(also, anyone who writes both remadora and wolfstar with such love automatically gets inducted into my hall of favorite people forever full stop end of story <3)

*

TRICK OR TREAT: Happy Golden Years by BookishBrigitta (1.5k, G)

pure halloween fluff. everyone lives (everyone) au, remadora raise teddy lupin kidfic. the thought of jily and sirius getting to see remus as a happy and proud dad — “So, Teddy, my dearest, shortest cousin. You want to be a teddy bear for Hallow’s Eve?” — gives me the best sorts of warm fuzzies 🥰

*

FREE SPACE: Like Matins, the Morning Song of Birds by aegle (2.6k, M)

i do not talk about aegle enough for how much i love their fic — both their fics AND their bookmarks are really worth checking out for wonderful remadora mid-late 2010s oneshots.

anyway, here’s a rec for more vaguely angsty autumn mood remadora, vignette-style. quotes under read more, along with the blank bingo board:

It's been this way for weeks—late September, when she'd fallen asleep next to him, pale dawn blooming in his bedroom. A gentle entanglement of their wrists and ankles. Waking, hours later, the noon light heavy and her brain thick with sleep. Visions of hard sex in the unmade bed, his sleeping arm draped over her hip; the fever-rush of arousal following.

They'd not mentioned it—what had there been to mention? Nearness, proximity, touch. Sleeping under the antiphonal singsong of starlings, their bodies mirrored. Breath, lungs, lips mirrored.

Afterward, sitting in her over-bright office, her nerves still burning, she'd found the idea of a midday meeting a terrible and hilarious interruption, but an interruption to what? Even now, the last bit of oily whisky on her tongue, she doesn't have the nerve for confessions. The thought of his hipbones curving into hers sends a flush over her skin and silences her. What would she have said, then, in that bed? What sound might have slipped past the barrier of her mouth?

So they stand, London quieting beyond them.

(…)

In the dawn-hushed hours of his bedroom, this is, this is. Chests rising with sleep, skin warmed by skin. Autumn slipping through the fence rails. Outside, the morning song of birds.

[ninjakitty2988]

Chapter two. You are my sunshine.

You are slowly plodding along with your leg injury wincing in pain. You take a break in the late morning and you have been walking for 4 hours. You perch yourself on a large rock, you spot a small spring, you walk towards it and take a small sip "oh that's good it's drinking water."

Gathering your hands together you cup the spring water. It's cool, crisp and refreshing. Then you proceed to do the same to use the water to clean your face off. You take a moment to take a look at your reflection on your appearance in the water and the minor scratches on your face have almost disappeared.

Your stomach grows hungrily and you have one onigiri left over. It had salmon inside the onigiri with a hint of soy sauce and salt "suppose I better eat this. I will get something back at the butterfly mansion. Aoi makes great food".

You open your mouth and take a bite, sharing it with your kasugai crow. He picks up the rice off your hands and says "caw caw thankyou y/n" you smile sweetly and pet your kasugai crow on the head gently. your kasugai crow screeches "caw caw we should get moving". You stand up from the large rock you were perched on "yeah I hear you let's get back"

You proceed to walk towards demon slayer HQ "I should get there in the middle of the afternoon". You see your kasugai crow soaring through the clear blue skies and carry on walking ahead through a path through the rice fields.

An old lady stops to pass as you walk by and she speaks up "my dear are you ok that looks like a nasty wound on your thigh".

You answer back "oh yeah I am ok it's been treated I am on my way back home that's all"

She has a warm smile "well I do wish you well".

You nod and smile kindly "take care of yourself" you bow politely and walk on ahead. Every step you take your leg burns with pain "Aoi isn't going to be happy with me"! You scrunch your face thinking about how you will get scolded by Aoi! "oh well never mind it's too late for that I have to go forward".

The kasugai crow screeches "caw caw I can see the demon slayer HQ you will be there in an hour". You look at the ground and then to the sky it looks like it's late in the afternoon. You walk towards your goal getting back to demon slayer HQ.

A chill in the wind blows your hair and your pleated skirt and you look down at your uniform you only just noticed it has a large rip at the side of your injured thigh and you shrug your shoulders trying to cover it with your haroi ."I need a new uniform. Hopefully I get trousers this time. This skirt isn't what I wanted to wear, it shows off a little too much legs!"

You can see the HQ, your kasugai crow swoops down and perches on your shoulders. You sigh in relief. You grab the handle on the gate it creeks! You close the gate and walk gingerly in the gardens. You see nine of the hashria outside of the gardens and your face is shocked to see them all in one place. You ponder to yourself "there must be an important meeting for all nine of the hashria to be at HQ all at once".

Since Uzui Tengan is the sound pillar his hearing is sensitive to the slightest bit of noise he hears you coming through the gate. He turns around walk's fast towards you and grins with his hand under his chin, he bends down towards your face "oh what do we have here it's a pretty little demon slayer".

You look up at him nervously "leave her be Tengan" a water pillar with black hair and a stoic facial expression his name was Giyu Tomioka. Uzui Tengan backs off a little bit. You look around the gardens and you see a woman with pink and green hair styled in three plaits "she's adorable". The love pillar Mitsuri Kanroji smiles blissfully, blushing so lightly.

The flame pillar Kyojuro Rengoku with golden flame like eyes and blonde hair and red tips in the end of his hair he turns around to see what the fuss was about and he sees you his eyes are wide and he's shocked "y/n is it really you it's been so very long"!!

You look at him shocked you recognize his fiery hair from a mile away "Kyojuro it's you I can hardly believe my eyes I haven't seen you since you left for final selection" He comes running towards you smiling. All the other Hashira stand around looking confused.

[gingersnaaps]

too much of a good thing

he's so sweet, so kind, so dumb - is bokuto really capable of anything besides the best intentions?

wc: ~2.7k

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): explicit n*fw, dubcon sex to noncon creampie, manipulation, lovebombing and then neglect, overstimulation, cunnilingus, fingering, penetration, a lil angst, timeskip!bokuto, fem!reader with inner genitals

i don’t want minors interacting with my content

Being subtle was never really Bokuto’s thing, not even in the beginning.

In some ways, you suppose that you’re lucky - that you’re better off than your friends who you would always hear complaining, muttering about boys who didn't like to commit, didn’t like labels, who didn’t like texting first or buying gifts or putting in any effort at all.

Barely a week into your relationship, you come home from work with your head dizzy and feet aching from exhaustion, and discover a dozen bouquets of roses on your doorstep. Crimson petals are littered everywhere, strewn against the grey concrete of the steps, and although you feel your neck and face heating up with embarrassment at the grand gesture, you can’t suppress the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips.

He really was so sweet. Who cares if he wasn’t exactly shy about expressing it?

None of the other guys you’ve dated before had sent you good morning texts quite like his, filled with exclamation points and emojis, and none of them had tried nearly as hard as Bokuto does with his breathy, eager i love you’s, his frequent hugs whenever he gets the chance to see you, or even his phone calls that come twice, three times, even four times in the middle of the day.

But the more days that pass by, the more intense it gets.

He picks you up after work all the time, cupping your face in his hands, eyes gleaming almost unnaturally bright. “I love you,” he’ll whisper. “You’re so wonderful, baby. You’re perfect. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.”

You can’t help but think that these are the sort of words that come months into a relationship, if not years, but… there’s nothing really wrong with what he’s doing, is there? There’s no reason you should be uneasy, no indication of even the slightest hint of trouble on his part.

You’re probably just paranoid.

Bokuto doesn’t stop at words, though - he earns a good sum of money from his job playing professional volleyball, and he’s never hesitant to use it on you. A week after he leaves you the roses, he asks you out on a date to a restaurant you know is ridiculously expensive, and the uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach grows as you scroll through pictures of the establishment on Google Images.

“I don’t think I can afford it, Bo,” you tell him, voice hesitant and crackly over the phone. “If we go, I won’t be able to pay my share.”

“So?”

It’s just a word, but the implication isn’t lost on you. And if he’s fine with paying for you, if he’s okay with the hundreds of dollars you’ll be owing him, well - there’s no good reason to turn him down, right?

During the date, you talk with him as you spoon bites of delicate food into your mouth. The restaurant is too lavish, the plush velvet carpeting and crystal chandeliers almost a parody of luxury. You’re pretty sure the utensils are half the price of your rent.

He leans over in the middle of the meal, expression suddenly serious. “You’re enjoying this, right?” he asks.

“I am. I’m kinda lucky, aren’t I? Being spoiled like this.”

“Yeah,” he replies, his grin so bright it could rival the sun. “You really are.”

And suddenly - just for a moment - you catch a glimpse of something slightly off about his whole expression, as if it was a mask waiting to be ripped off to reveal something much, much different underneath, but the fleeting moment is gone so quickly you convince yourself that it’s just your eyes playing tricks on you.

Bokuto has been nothing if not perfect, after all. If you’re uneasy, it’s probably just because you aren’t used to being treated like this, aren’t used to someone that lavishes you with constant gifts and praise and displays of affection like he does. On the way back in the taxi, he whispers everything he loves about you softly in your ear, his arm snaking around your waist as his thumb rubs tender circles into your skin. His body is pressed so close to yours, his breath gently tickling your ear, warmth radiating out from his firm, muscled body.

He’s so good to you.

-

It doesn’t last forever.

Bokuto’s affection dries up slowly, but his presence has been such a constant in your life that it’s impossible for you not to notice.

Some mornings, you find yourself waking up to a hollow feeling in your chest as you check your message notifications and find nothing - no late night rants, no funny pictures, no enthusiastic, joyful good morning texts. During the day, the silence now stretches on for hours too long, uncomfortably empty and devoid of the persistent calls that you used to get every single hour.

When he does see you, he’s remarkably reserved - eyes always downcast, fingers fidgeting incessantly, clearly disinterested in what you’re doing, what you’re saying - in fact, disinterested in all of you.

Maybe he’s just busy with volleyball, you rationalize, but your stomach churns with anxiety and deep down, you know that something’s changed.

You try and ignore the dull ache inside of you that seems to follow you around wherever you go, a little voice inside your head constantly reminding you of what Bokuto used to do. Two months ago, he would’ve picked you up. He would’ve sent you flowers today. He would’ve taken you out to eat.

It builds up slowly and steadily, a crescendo of pain that grows in volume the longer he’s gone, like a tidal wave of confusion and hurt that swirls around inside you - until one day, you’re sitting by yourself in the car, sobbing quietly in the cramped darkness.

At least he doesn’t turn you away when you show up on his doorstep.

Your eyes are rimmed with red, streaks of eye makeup running down your face as a frown twists at his features. “Please, Bo,” you whisper. “Let me make it up to you.”

And you’re not exactly sure what you did, but you want to fix it, want him back in your life, want to wake up to his smiles and his laughter and his incessant, boundless energy, and you know you’re willing to do anything to get that back.

“Really?” he asks, eyes glimmering faintly with hope.

You nod almost imperceptibly, about to reply yes, yes, want you back so bad, when he grabs your waist with his hands and pulls you in for a kiss so passionate it borders on harsh. It’s a whirlwind of teeth and tongue, a mix of sucking and licking and biting that leaves you gasping for breath, your red lips swollen and slick with spit.

He pulls you inside, his hands roaming all over your body, groping and squeezing at your supple flesh, goosebumps running down your spine as he brings a hand up to brush against your nipple. For the first time in weeks, you see excitement on his face, and his voice trembles as he leans close in. “Let me take care of you,” he says. “Wanna make you feel good.”

And even though there’s apprehension crawling under your skin at his sudden mood swing, you’re so, so glad this version of Bokuto is back that you brush off that hesitation, the mixture of happiness and anticipation overwhelming every single thought in your mind.

As his fingertips graze the soft skin of your torso, his hands - so much larger than yours - maneuver your body around with such ease and grace that you barely notice when you end up on his couch, legs spread wide open as he looks up from between your thighs hungrily. “I - fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he says, out of breath, eyes running over the swollen outline of your cunt.

You whimper softly as his nose brushes up against your clit, his piercing, golden eyes still gazing intently up at you.

He doesn’t waste any of his time teasing you, his flat of his tongue sliding up along your slit with the perfect amount of pressure to leave you squirming. It’s almost as if he knows exactly where to lick and suck, eagerly pressing his tongue up against your clit in insistent circles, lapping at your dripping pussy until your juices are running down his chin. He’s so eager in between your legs, and everytime he finds a spot that makes your legs tremble needily, he gives it so much attention that you already start to feel that wave of pleasure building in your core.

“Don’t stop,” you pant, your hands sliding into his hair as your hips thrust upwards. “Please.”

Bokuto doesn’t need you to tell him that. Shouldn’t have wasted your breath, he thinks idly, diving in and eating you out with renewed vigor.

When his tongue glides around your spasming cunt and dips in briefly, you can’t stop the moan that tumbles from your lips. His tongue is so stupidly long and flexible, sliding inside and licking at your sensitive walls, curling up and brushing against your g-spot until you start to shudder and tremble under him.

You cum embarrassingly quick, your hips jerking and stuttering wildly as he finishes you off. He fucks you through your orgasm, sucking gently at your clit until the border between pain and pleasure starts to blur and you’re moaning so loudly he thinks the neighbors will have complaints for him the next morning.

“Feel good, baby?” he asks, voice sending vibrations through your pussy.

“Yeah,” you mumble.

“How about another?”

Your eyes widen. “W-what?”

“I think you can handle it, right?” a huge grin splits his face as he spreads your pussy apart with two fingers, looking at your swollen, spent cunt. He barely gives your chance to respond before he trails his fingers against your lips, fingers teasing in and out of your slick entrance.

This time, Bokuto uses his hands to stretch you out, inserting his digits one by one until three of his thick, long fingers are nestled inside of your pussy. He thrusts them languidly in and out, his fingertips caressing your nerves until you’re tense and wound up for him again.

“Come on,” he encourages. “You can take it.”

Your brain is hazy from the stimulation, barely registering anything but pleasure as his fingers search and probe like they have some sort of job to do. You feel damp with heat and moisture, the pulsing, burning need in between your legs insistent and demanding.

“Almost there,” he breathes, voice raspy with arousal. A fourth finger brushes up against your lips, and the thought of more stretch, more stimulation, more pleasure, has you clenching desperately against the ones that your cunt is already spread out on.

You sob, your body strung out and wrecked, suspended on the tipping point of another orgasm.

As you cum again, the feeling of relief - white-hot and blinding - rips along your core. You’re not sure you’ve experienced anything quite so intense before, and as you look down at him, hands still manipulating your cunt so expertly, you don’t know if he has the intention of stopping anytime soon.

He stands up and your eyes drift to his cock, flushed purple and almost painfully hard, dripping with precum. His hand strokes along his shaft, soft curses muttered under his breath, but he opens them wide again and looks down at you sadly. “I’m so sorry,” he says, voice pleading. “I don’t have any condoms.”

Bokuto sounds so genuine, his tone kind and filled with regret, and guilt begins to sting at your conscience. He’s made you feel so fucking good, given you the best orgasms of your life - is it really fair if you leave him wanting and unsatisfied?

You’re fucked halfway out of your mind when you answer, eyes still fixated on his cock, head swimming with thoughts of how much you want to please him.

“It’s fine,” you say, your words slurred and hesitant. “You can.. you can use me. Use my pussy to get you off. Jus’ pull out at the end.”

Ecstasy flashes across his face, and he looks down eagerly. “Fuck, babe. You’re so perfect. I love you.”

You hadn’t heard those words for weeks.

His strong arms pick you up easily, maneuvering you around until he’s the one sitting on the couch and your cunt is positioned right over his dick. His hands grip tightly at your waist, fingertips pressing so insistently that you’re sure you’ll wake up the next morning with bruises dotting your skin. He lowers you down slowly, carefully, groaning as he fills you up and the warmth of your cunt envelopes him whole.

He already looked big, just from the cursory glance you’d taken earlier, but as you feel the tip of his cock shove against your cervix, your breath almost catches at how you feel your walls expanding to accommodate all of him.

The drag of his curved cock up against your sensitive walls leaves your legs trembling and squirming, but he holds you firmly down as he thrusts up inside over and over. “Stay still,” he coos. “Let me take care of you.”

Bokuto starts off gently, fucking you with shallow little thrusts that have you panting with desperation. He can tell by the way your cunt is fluttering that you're craving more, that the two orgasms he gave you earlier just wasn’t enough for a greedy girl like you, and he relishes the way your small hands grip desperately at his shirt.

He raises you up off his cock, running the tip up and down your slit until your pussy throbs, and slams you back down again. The rhythm he maintains is steady and even, bouncing you up and down on his cock like a ragdoll, whispering stuttered curses and phrases of endearment against your ear, making you shiver from the overload of stimuli.

“Feels so amazing,” he moans. “Gonna.. Gonna cum soon.”

The heat in your core grows intense at the thought of his orgasm, involuntarily whining, and you start to rock your hips back and forth in an attempt to search out more friction.

Bokuto knows he promised to pull out. He knows that it wouldn’t be right if he stayed buried inside your cunt. But how is he supposed to stop himself when you feel this good, wrapped so obediently around him like a perfect little fuck doll? And the heat of your cunt is gripping incredibly tight all around his length, your little squirms and shivers so adorable as he uses you to get himself off.

He can’t help himself.

With one last, desperate thrust, he lets go, thick spurts of cum filling you up until he’s sure your insides are dripping white, and he caresses your stomach where your womb would be in satisfaction. It feels so good to cum inside of a tight cunt, much better than it would’ve if he’d forced himself to pull out, he thinks. And you look so pretty all full and leaking with his seed.

It takes you a moment to fully register the warm, wet feeling pooling inside you, your brain too fucked out, too stupid from the constant stimulation to truly understand what exactly dripping from your slit is.

When you do realize - oh god, he came inside me - panic starts to grip at the edges of your frayed nerves, your vision tunneling as the magnitude of what had just happened hits you. Tears start to blur the world around you, the dim lighting of his living room merging the furniture and warping the walls, and you faintly register the feeling of arms wrapped tight around you, a hand reaching up to caress soothingly at your cheek.

“You know,” Bokuto whispers, face lit up in wonder. “I think we’re soulmates.”

[faegirly]

Flight of the Last Dove - Grayson x Ex Enforcer Gender Neutral Reader Angst Oneshot

one mistake can change the trajectory of any relationship for the rest of the partners lives, but on this night, a decade after one choice ruined yours, Grayson hopes to make amends and start anew.

~

Grayson sighed as she stepped out of the gallery and onto the balcony, overlooking the now expanded city of Piltover with a slow sigh. she waited there in the familiar moonlight, testing rhe air against the shaven hair at the nape of her neck to see if it would change, let her know when the expected, the promised, would arrive. in the silence, she was not alone though. her memories brought to life a night she could never forget.

a ball in this very hall where an empassioned cellist led the gathered nobility and council together for a night of celebration and delight. flutes of wine clinked together like wind chimes through the murmur of soft conversation and hushed plotting.

she grinned at the memory of it all and leaned on the golden railing, turned silver in the light of the half moon. there was always plotting whether it was admitted or not, and she was not unfamiliar with being a part of it but that night, like this night she hoped, the plan that was to be set in motion was one for growth and not secret destruction.

the Sheriff of Piltover took in a slow cool breath, savouring the feeling of the nights air against the walls of her lungs, expanding her navy and gold trimmed uniform. it was now seven minutes past the hour but she was prepared to wait all night if thats what it took. thankfully, you were one to stick to your word in all situations and just as she turned to set her helmet down on the ground beside her, a weight dropped onto the domed roof of the ballroom behind her. she didn't need to lift her eyes to know that it was you who had arrived at last.

with a soft wise smile, kneeling to set her helmet down at her feet, Grayson then straightened and turned to you, resting an elbow on the railing as she smiled, "Fashionably late as always."

"Actually," you corrected as you slid down the roof and dropped onto the balcony beside her. "I'm 8 years late. you'd know that, if you'd been counting."

"I have been." she sighed, turning her strong body fully to face you. "I just didn't know you were also."

you didnt answer her. instead, you looked out over the bitterly familiar skyline, the glass highrises and skylights in houses catching the slivers of moonlight that were cast down through passing clouds.

"nothings changed." you mused. crossing your bandaged arms on the rail, the muscle in your jaw flexinf as you fought not to look at her.

Grayson sighed looked out over the pristine view also, watching you in the corner of her vision as she nodded, "It has expanded, and... has been cooler than I remember."

you rolled your eyes at her words, saying before she finished, "What, my presence really made that much if a difference?"

"Yes, it did, in fact." she admitted without hesitation, finally turning her grey green eyes to you, that gentle reliable smile on her lips, the same that lit up her strong but graceful face, and had made you melt before her so many times.

allowing yourself just a moment to meet her gaze and take in her firm presence, you pushed out a breath and lifted yourself up to perch on the railing. "so... how's the position of Sheriff treating you? all that power seems to be serving your men well."

"Captain-"

"Do not call me that." you snapped, heart suddenly in your throat. you cleared it to push it back down and cracked your knuckles as you muttered, "I am not a captain anymore, and besides that, I've had a decade to forget how it sounds on your tongue so don't start making me have to pick up those pieces all over again."

at your words, Graysons smile fell, a heavy sinking feeling taking the place of where her own heart would've been. after a breath, she took half a step towards you and asked, "You're trying to forget me? Then why meet me here after you left and made it a point to make sure I knew you'd never come back? Why after all this time?"

stinging tears clawed at the back of your eyes as you fastened your grip on the railing either side of you, jaw clenched tight as you shook your head, trembling in the cool clear air of topside and spat out, "Because... I wanted this to be the actual last time."

you heard the sheriff take in a stiff breath, could see her eyes widen in the corner if her eye but didnt pull your gaze from the gold framed glass door to the ballroom as you finally, after having years to prepare your last words to her, pushed out the heavy air in your lungs and explained tightly, "When we stood here at that gala... 8 years ago... we made a promise that as enforcers, as captains, as... deputy and sheriff, whoever got there first, we would bring peace between Piltover and the Undercity without violence. we swore it, made an oath..."

you paused a moment to reach for the bandage across your right palm with a trembling left, shaking inside as you unbound it to reveal a long deep scar across your palm. staring at it only brought back the warmth of those locked away memories, the tenderness of several that followed. you balled that right hand into a fistnro tightly your nails scratched through your skin a little, bu the pain was nothing you werent used to. you coulsnt say the same for the tears in your eyes.

Grayson's heart lurched with tight agony at your hurt, knowing full well why you fslt the way you did. brushing her thumb over her own right palm, knowing exactly where her own scar was now healed over, she took another step closer and reached out to place a comforting hand on your thigh, only for you to spring away like a rabbit from a fox.

you shook as you stumbled back, catching yourself on the rail and glaring at her with bright panic, quixkly binding your hand again tightly, too tight, as you stammered out, "d-don't you... dont you dare touch me. I'll... I'll die if... i-if you touch me."

she was powerless. for the first time in her life, Grayson could do nothing to resolve th situation. she only clenched her jae and sighed through her nose, swallowing before she muttered, that beautiful accent coating her words in a sincerity you didn't want to remember, didn't want to crave, "Despite everything, I never intended to hurt you. The Council would have pushed our hand eventually, but I stood true to our vow, no matter what."

"Only until the cost for going against them was too much to handle, right?" you bit back, the tears in your eyes blurring your vision in their heat. maybe it was better like that. if you could see her clearly, you couldn't remember evry instance of her that made your heart ache with longing for your old partner, old friend, again.

Grayson shook her head and took another step towards you, trying to rebuild the bridge that had been scorched away between you as she said gently, "It was not my suggestion. I would never order the enforcers under me to use any kind of force, none that wasn't necessary."

"None of it was necesssary!" you yelled at last, the bubbling pain in your chest that had been building for nearly a decane now erupting out of you and pushing the first tear to fall from your eye. with a shaken breath, you argued back as your throat ached with your bitten back sobs. "We had worked too hard, built up too much trust with so many in Zaun to just... flip over and abuse that loyalty for what?! a respect we were on the way to have anyway?"

"The Council-"

"For gods sake, Grayson! would you stop using the council as an excuse for what you agreed to do! It was you who signed off on the ambush, you who let your men bring guns down, you who stood by while they shot people, MY people, in front of their homes and families and businesses! The Council does not march down into the undercity to carry out their wishes, you do. You could've stopped all of this, refused all of this! if you had we could have-"

the accusation finally tore out of you, rash and vicious, and as soon as it was out, most of it before you caught yourself, the bitter cold of the night set in.

there was no comfort in Piltovers skyline. itnwas all razor edges and unforgiving glares, from the buildings and the people, but when you wheezed a breath and met Graysons eyes again, now wide with hurt and realisation of how much you were hurting too, it was suddenly too much.

the Sheriff was shaken to her core, guilt scraping against her bones at your words, at the truth, and the sound her name on your lips once again.

her heart ached for forgiveness, for another chance to do things right and as a small bead of a tear rose to the corner of her eyes, she whispered, so softly, "I... am so sorry, dove. Please... please forgive me... for betraying us, for betraying you."

but there was so much deathly heart ache in your chest you couldnt breathe, let alone look at her or be near her or listen to her voice anymore. gasping through your unending tears, you backed away again but Grayson continued, opening her hands and arms to you in surrender, in offering, "You're right about it all. None of this... the attack on innocents, your disappearance from the force, the decade of silence... none of it should've happened. But there hasn't been a day that went by that I didn't think of you and what I could've- should have done to change things."

she took another step, cautiously, and only when you met her eyes again did she ask, "Would you give me a chance to rectify my mistakes? start again with all of this? with you?"

her dedicatuon was irresistable and it took everything in you not to leap into her arms but grinding your teeth, you forced yourself to turn from her and push past her, swinging back up onto the dommed ballroom roof to prepare to leave again. but in the moment you paused to catch your breath and wipe your face, you allowed yourself one last look down at her, Sheriff of Piltover, your Captain, and say, coldly, "You're 8 years too late too, Sheriff."

without another quick look back, you launched yourself away into the night, rushing as fast as you could back down to the undercity, messily leaping from rooftop to rooftop, sliding down gutters and falling onto pipes before clinging to them and sliding down. you had to get away as fast as you could, and as new tears streamed down your face, tight breaths hissed through your clenched teeth, you focused on that alone, letting the pain push you to get as far away from Piltover as possible.

Grayson stood alone again on the balcony of the ballroom, staring at the rooftop whrre you had been crouched for just a moment. her chest felt hollow, devoid of a heartbeat or her breath. was this real? she couldn't think straight as she turned and caught herself on the now ice cold railing again, staring out over the relentless edges of Piltover without focus while her mind filled with only one thought:

None of this was worth losing you for. None of it at all.

end