#And I fucking hated it. But the thing is. It worked

[bunnys-kisses]

hi can I please make an order of crème caramel, berry trifle, mango sorbet and a spicy upside down cake with a side of lemon water served by Max Verstappen please? Sorry it's a bit long tho...

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu, i'd love to hear your order! and thank you to everyone who submitted orders! i am working through them!!

crème caramel ("oh. you thought you were getting away from me?" ) + berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + mango sorbet ("you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?") + spicy upside down cake ( "let's play a game: don't get caught.") + lemon water (university/college au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, university au, bully!max, mean!max, semi-public sex, library sex, fwb gone horrible, dirty talk/degrading language, obsessive!max, oral sex (max receives), choking/deep throating

"where are you going, schat?" max loomed over you like a heavy cloud as he placed his hands on your hips. he held you like he owned you, and in all fairness... sometimes it felt like he did.

you thought the one time you'd try to have a one night stand that everything would go swimmingly. but you picked the wrong man on campus.

graduate student, about three years your senior. with hands like bear paws and about the same strength as one in his grip. and he held you in the middle of the library.

"you just came in and now you're turning around in leaving? surely you had something to do here today. it was close to eight in the evening, the library was next to dead. you remained silent for a moment before he added, "oh. you thought you were getting away from me? is that it, you thought you could leave before i found you?"

you swallowed and lied, "i forgot something."

he chuckled as he leaned in a little closer, "was it your panties? because i found them in my car yesterday. pink with flowers? they kept me busy all of last night when you were ignoring my texts." he held onto you a little tighter, "it's not polite to ignore me, liefje."

the issue was that you wanted a one night stand with someone outside of your little english department. so you ended up with a geography graduate student... however, after that night, max became your shadow.

"what did you do to my panties, max?"

he let go of you and turned you in his arms. he smiled at you, the kind of smile that most at the school would trip over themselves to see. but you could see something else in those blue eyes, "don't worry, i washed them when i was done." then leaned in to kiss you on the cheek.

you pulled back a little, but couldn't go far as he had you basically trapped against him. you could call for help, but the student librarian at the front desk was more occupied with her phone.

max pulled your attention back to him as he said, "why don't we study together? think of it like a date."

you'd never date someone like max. not even as his thumbs tried to push up your t-shirt a little, you managed to get away. you swallowed, you could run and hide. but, max had more eyes on the school than cameras. someone would catch a glimpse of you somewhere on campus and max would find you.

max verstappen was denied very little in his life. and he wasn't going to start of trend of not getting his way.

"so why were you running away, my love?" he asked as he pressed himself up against you. his strong arms were around you middle as he pressed you to him. he smiled was threatening and you felt a cold chill down your spine.

"i told you. i forgot something." you tried to use the last bit of fight in you. but those eyes of his were all knowing.

"wrong. try again." he said before he went in and kissed you on the cheek, "i remember our first night together. you made me feel like nothing else could. you made me feel alive. i hate when you run away from me." he kissed the corner of your lip softly, "now, why don't we study tonight."

you looked up at him. he was a bit taller than you and for sure stronger. the gaze in his eyes warmed up when you nodded, accepting his offer for studying.

see, you knew what max needed. he wanted to be closer to you, he wanted to feel you all over. he even wanted to take you out on dates and make you the center of his world. he was obsessed with you, and you just needed to see that he loved you. but that meant less struggling.

he led you into the back of the library, the furthest part with two chairs in a desk. there was no one else around for a good while. most had left for the evening. which left you alone with max.

"liefje." he said as he sat on the chair and unzipped his fly, "come here." it was a siren's call before he sank his teeth into you. before he ripped you to shreds and drag you under the waves.

you knew what you had to do, you were thankful that the pants you wore were comfy because you knew that one round, even in a semi-public space, wouldn't be enough for max. you knew another pair of your panties would end up in his car.

he watched you lower to your knees and licked his lips, you looked like a doll to him. he said quietly, "let's play a game: don't get caught." before he ran his hands through your hair.

your face was up against his cock and you shuddered a little bit. the size of it was impressive and it made your mouth water a little. this was how he trapped you. the allure of his heavy cock in your face.

with a small whine he pushed your face further against his cock and you had no choice but to take it in your mouth. but few pleasantries were made when he got the tip up against your throat. you whined a little bit, it was almost a whorish noise as you relaxed against his grasp.

mad max, mean max, whatever you wanted to call him. you felt almost at home on your knees in front of him. he was your hook up gone wrong. horribly wrong.

his voice was a curl in your brain and made you shift a little bit on the carpeted ground, "you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?" he knew you had to take an extra semester because you failed a course. in a slight fairness it was max's fault, he wouldn't let you go write your final exam. too busy bruising that cunt of yours well into the morning.

even if you tried to write the exam all your brain cells were gone due to how hard hew as fucking you. even now, with his cock in your throat, you felt a loss in most brain activity. no higher thinking while he was choking you on his cock.

you felt amazing around his cock, there were few words to describe how it all felt. he could feel the flutter in his chest as he rammed his cock up against your throat. and when you made a choking noise, he told you to "shut up." before he kept battering his cock up against the back of your throat.

you looked up at him, your eyes looked so innocent as he pressed his cock into your throat as deep as it would go. he still had a lot to teach you about deep throating, but for now he'd take a small pleasure in your choked noises.

"such a pretty girl." he said, "you look so good on your knees. is this how you were passing all your courses? pretty blouses and dick sucking lips." he chuckled lowly as he gripped onto your head further.

you whimpered a little bit as you held onto his strong thighs as you worked yourself onto his cock. you felt the buzz in your head as you continued to move your head.

"this is how i like you. i don't get why you don't understand that. most would kill for a chance to be in your spot. but you get it so easily." he said in a low, harsh tone.

you whined a little bit and arched your back. you felt your body splashed with heat. you trembled a little bit with a certain want. max verstappen knew how to play you like a fiddle. he knew how to take you apart and put all your pieces back together as he liked them.

"such a good girl for me. i'm glad i got a hold of you before you became a slut. now you can't cum on anyone's dick but mine." he said harshly.

in the back corner of the library you gave him head. your brain felt unfocused as he bullied the tip up against your pretty throat. he wanted to bruise it so you couldn't talk for a few days.

"no need to speak words, liefje. not when your boyfriend could do all the talking for you." he said and the words marked on your brain and made your core soaked.

"max." you tried to say with his cock in your mouth.

"shush." he said.

you looked at him once more before his grip on you started to tighten even more. he pushed his cock up against your throat once more, you knew it would be bruised come morning.

you whined and relaxed yourself enough for him to finish down your throat. he groaned and held onto you as he finished in your mouth. you tasted the saltiness down your throat. and your mind went little a blurry for a moment.

when you got your mouth off his cock, you rested your face on his thigh and looked up at him. max was almost sweet when he brushed the side of your face.

"you should be studying how to make me feel good. stupid little thing already knows enough about english." he pinched your cheeks, "be my bride."

you pouted a little, your lips glossed with spit and pre cum, "no, max."

he sighed before he gripped your hair again, "enough thinking. get on the table. i'm not done with you." max knew you inside and out, no other man on campus could compare to him. he'll teach you eventually, that his love was the only one you needed.

[in-class-daydreams]

Imaging you and ex-husband Gojo getting into an ugly fight for one of the first times since the initial divorce.

"Does your little boyfriend know you kissed me?" he asks lowly.

Your living room was not the ideal place to get into spats like this, but you'd rather here than either school where eavesdroppers can spread your business all over the place.

"He doesn't, actually!" You turn and stalk towards the kitchen, calling over your shoulder, "He's not my boyfriend, so it doesn't matter."

Satoru and his ridiculous long legs easily keep up with you. "Is that how that works?"

You turn to face him, only to bump right into his chest. When did he get that close?

Jabbing a finger into his chest, you say, "If, by some insane lapse in judgement, I kissed you while I had a boyfriend, I'd own it and come clean. It's called 'communication,' Satoru, look it up." Again, you turn to make your way into another room, eager to be away from him, but he grabs you by the wrist.

"I hate when you do that! You say some pain in the ass thing, then you try to walk away! You do it every time," he gripes. "And what would you tell him, huh?"

"I'd tell him your fucking lips were dry!" you snap. "And that it was a mistake."

Satoru grabs you by the face with one hand, squishing your cheeks together and forcing you to look at him. With one flick of his finger, he uses his technique to force his blindfold off. You're left looking into his crystal blue eyes that make you feel like a teenager again.

"You still love me," he tells you.

"I don't."

"I can tell. You look at me the same way you always have."

"No."

"Say it!"

"Fuck off!" You turn and bite his hand hard. He yelps and recoils. His fault for always letting you through his infinity. "You want me to love you, Satoru?" you shout. "You wanna act like you've changed?"

Memories of him walking into the restaurant with another woman on his arm flash in your mind. Holding back tears, you continue, "Maybe you have. But you changed for other women instead of me, so why should I give a damn about what you want?"

Satoru always blamed himself for the divorce, as much as you tried in the past to reassure him that there were a dozen factors working against you. He's done his best to take what you've said in the end days of your marriage to heart and become a better man. Communicating with dates, being better about speaking his true thoughts, all of it was an attempt to be the type of man you wanted to be married to. For you to imply that all that was too little, too late cut him deeper than you could ever know.

And so, in a stroke of pure idiocy, Satoru reaches out, cups your face, and kisses you like he'd never get to again.

Heehoo

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[love44lew]

what turns them on/off

彡drivers lewis hamilton, max verstappen, charles leclerc, sebastian vettel, jenson button

彡genre hcs/scenarios

彡summary what gets their wheels spinning and what makes ‘em dnf ★

彡notes i apologize for the wait my loves i didn’t want any of these to feel rushed </3 thank you for 100 followers ❤️❤️

彡warnings sexual content

————-꧁🪼🦈🐋🐬🦭꧂-————

lewis

pleasuring you lewis loves to satisfy the people he loves. getting them gifts, compliments, paying the bill for any meal, you name it. as long as his special ones are happy, hes happy. so in bed you can expect those same things to apply. he gets pleasure from pleasuring you, he loves it. he enjoys seeing you trembling, blushing and fucked out more than his own pleasure. thats why his favorite thing to do is eat you out. and by life itself, this man can EAT!! its almost like your pussy put a spell on him he gets so lost in the sauce. you physically have to push him off to make him stop and by that time your legs are already shaking. he really touches the ocean floor if you know what i mean!! and the d is fire!! and it will put you to sleep. lewis loves being your personal melatonin.

meaningless sex when lewis was single and needed some pleasure every once in a while, he would just go on raya or hit up one of the six trillion girls who wanted him. he wasn’t satisfied with living that way. lewis is a lover not a player. he’s been through a lot of stuff to make him this way and he learned this the hard way through his late twenties and early thirties. born to be a lover, forced to be a hoe !! fortunately though, he met you and looking back on it, he’s realized how much he hated the shallowness of it all. lewis craves for deep meaningful connections and just having sex with random women didn’t fill that hole in his heart. he had to relearn the true meaning of sex and how magical and special such an experience can be. you helped him rediscover this important aspect of his life and it feels great. being with you has definitely taught him quality over quantity.

max

loss of senses max needs to see you, so darkness is a no no. plus, more unnecessary risk of hurting yourselves. he loves the sound of your voice, weather its your moaning and whining as he works your body in every way you enjoy or its just you rambling about your day while running your soft fingers through his thin silky hair. max needs the stimulation of sight and sound to get himself going. “let me hear you” he’ll whisper into your ear

this may be why he loves his mirrors !! the only solution to this issue is to just fuck u in front of a mirror. most men love to do that for their own pleasure but the only thing max is looking at while fucking you in front of a mirror is the way your face twitches, contorts, and relaxes with every thrust. the way your doe eyes roll back and cross, further showing to him how good he fucks you. he picks you up by your neck forcing you to straighten your back as he whispers sweet praise into your ear. “you look so pretty like this baby” “you want me to keep doing that gorgeous?” “uhuh im fucking you good baby” your legs twitch every time his sweet voice sings into your ear telling you everything you need to hear.

charles

charles loves to see you in lace, latex, and silk. the way the latex hugs your figure so beautifully makes you almost look naked. weather its black, beige, white, or print he loves when you look all sexy just for him. silk is almost like maternal for him. as much as he loves to see your curves he also loves the look of ‘sheets after sex’ the open back with the jewelry and the flowy trim, he loves it. it simply just makes him want to imagine you bloated with your shared creation but still keeping your elegance and beauty along with it. the look of silk makes your skin glow like the sun and you simply look like a greek goddess in his eyes. the beautiful custom embroidery that revolves around your every curve when you wear lace is unmatched. he loves that it shows just enough that he can imagine what hes already seen but also covers enough that others cant. the sexy elegant vibe of lace changes your aura enough to make him want to eat you out through your thin panties. your beautiful skin covered by a thin soft custom embroidery made just for him makes his mind go wild.

waiting charles is very impatient when it comes to his pleasure. weather its the pleasure of winning or reaching tip of his climax so good that he’ll just want to fall asleep after, he’ll work hard to make sure he gets there, for you too. sure, he can do foreplay but only for a certain amount of time until he begins to bore. ‘lets get to the good stuff already’ ((sass)) charles is a gentleman, so he will make sure you finish before him. plus, he has amazing stamina, so don’t feel rushed to reach your climax, he can wait for that. sometimes he’ll slow down just to watch you overstimulate for a little bit longer, just until you start fussing before going rough and slow, just how u like it. “whats wrong mon cœr? don’t you like it slow?” “ahh you want it harder.. yeah, just like that.”

sebastian

cuddling (smirk) the bed creaks as seb adjusts himself to face your back swinging an arm over your waist and the other snaked around your neck. “good morning, der liebling” he greeted in his raspy low morning tone, planting soft kisses on your cheek and shoulder. you turned your head to catch his lips. “good morning sunshine” you teased his nickname. he rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging his lips. he kissed your nose before diving back onto your lips, his hand now squeezing and caressing your waist and hip. you scooted back, carefully grinding your rear on his front. his hand stuck on your hip while his other now holding your neck. you continued grinding your ass back on him. little moans and purrs escaping between kisses.

full attention its important that you fully engage with seb while having relations. if you seem at all uninterested in what you’re doing he simply wont have the means to do anything anymore. its important to always make sure you’re not holding back when it comes to him. he loves when your hands are anywhere they can find groping or caressing his skin as hes burried deep in your core. he needs to feel extra wanted every time. “touch me” he whispers into your ear as he slowly inserts himself. the extra sensory makes him go wild as he resists cumming after just a couple strokes. your nails lightly scratching circles into his scalp as he’s pressing your knees into the cushion below. even when hes fucking you from behind you always reach a hand over to run down his chest and abs and make eye contact as you match his thrust rhythm.

(i might add jenson in the future but im trying to get this out for you guys asap!!)

—-

dm for tags!! plz request more ideas ❤️

[strawbuddy-luv]

Trans Tim off handedly mentioning random things that just confuse people more and more because he never told them he was trans (only Bruce and Alfred know)

Tim: "For the mission I'm thinking I'll go undercover, but it'll take some work to hide the bruises I got earlier. They're everywhere"

Dick: "Oh I think Steph is free right now!"

Tim: "...Ok?"

Dick: "Don't worry I'm sure she'll help you out with this! "

Tim: "That's awesome but I don't think I'll need help. I know how to use makeup."

Dick: "Really-? Ohhh, yeah your public image is like, way more public than ours. That must be tiring, having to hide the bruises all the time."

Tim: "Well yeah but I knew how to use makeup before that. For like, galas as a kid and stuff"

Dick: "...yeah..."

-----

Steph: -Complaining about a man- "And then he said "Oh you should smile more" like "you look like you don't want to be here" like what- what the fuck-??? Maybe I fucking don't dude."

Tim: "Oh yeah I hate when they do that. Like you've spent the entire time bitching about the consistency of snails, I can close my mouth for a few seconds."

Steph: "..."

Tim: "...What-?"

Steph: "Well- I mean yeah but- you know I have to deal with it like...way more, and it's just a bit weird that like, you as a guy are, I dunno, trying to relate? I mean you don't have to deal with it litreally everyday"

Tim: "Well yeah not anymore, but, you know...I still did."

Steph: :...What-"

-----

Tim: -Resting against on of the rooftop ledges-

Jason: "Woah, I can't believe it, Red Robin, slacking. What would Bruce do if he saw this!"

Tim: "Fuck off, it's just period cramps. I was just heading to the fire in the Dimond District." -Jumps off the edge of the building-

Jason: "Yeah whatever Timblina...

Your fucking what-"

-----

Bruce: "And for this mission, we'll be needing someone for the Caroline disguise, but we already know who that is so-"

Dick: "Wait does Steph actually know how to fight in heels-??"

Bruce: "...N-"

Steph: "Yeah Bruce, I mean, you could at least actually ask me before volunteering me to go fight crime in that dress."

Bruce: "You-"

Jason: "I mean no offense, but literally who else would do it? Cass isn't here right now and I don't think any of us are willing to get a boob job for the mission"

Bruce: "No one's getting a boob job-"

Steph: "Yeah! This is bat tech, Bruce probably has ultra realistic titties in everyone's color and size! Jason you wouldn't even need an attachment."

Jason: "I don't think Caroline Hills has fifty gun shot wounds and muscles the size of most those guys heads."

Steph: "Yeah bu-"

Bruce: "None of that will be necessary because none of you" -Pointing at the right side of the table- "Will be going. No one at this table will be needing any prosthetics...Or boob jobs."

Steph: "...Ok but who the fuck is going then-"

Bruce: "Tim."

The entire table: "..."

Steph: "Tim are you really willing to put on boobs for this-"

Dick: "I don't think that's the best idea-"

Jason: "You just said no prosthetics- Oh this'll be fucking rich"

Tim: "...

I...wouldn't need a boob job?? Or prosthetics?"

Jason: "Timbo, that dress is a pretty low cut, and, no offense, your training hasn't given you that many enhancements."

Tim: "...Thank you for the binding compliment?"

Dick: "The what-"

Tim: "Guys I- I already have boobs-"

The Table: "..."

Steph: "WHAT-"

Dick: "You do-?!"

Jason: "Bruce if you made Tim get boobs for some weird mission-"

Tim: "What- No! No one made me get boobs??? Besides, I don't know, biology I guess??? Genetics maybe???"

Dick: "...I'm extremely confused"

Steph: "WHO GAVE YOU BOOBS-???"

Tim: "I'm not really sure seeing as I was born with them"

Dick: "...

OHHHHHH-"

Steph: "What- is this like a birth defect or something???"

Dick: "Tim- Tim I think you're just gonna have to-"

Tim: "I'm trans."

Jason: "...That's-

Yeah

Ok yeah no that- that explains...a lot."

Steph: "..." -Head in hands- "I am such a fucking idiot"

[shy-writer-999]

hey friend! can i request a capital F FILTHY zoro x f!reader where they two of them are rivals/borderline enemies who fight all the time but after they both get a lil tipsy they end up hate fucking in the roughest most desperate way possible…

Ohhhh yes yes yes. YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND, ANON. anything filthy and with zoro i’m down. brace yourself because this is nasty. you told me capital F FILTHY and i gave you FILTHIER. this turned into a ~2.9k word monstrosity. i read it through like twice so plz excuse any overused words or typos...

everyone say it with me, now: "hate sex! hate sex! hate sex!!!!"

---

You and Zoro butted heads since the day you got on the ship. Zoro thought his tiffs with Sanji were super fucking annoying—but Sanji had nothing on you. Not only did you have an annoying quip in response to everything he said, but he heard you actively shit talking him in front of his face multiple times. He despised you—everything about you. He hated how you mocked him, hated how cocky you were around him, hated the way you fought, your morals, the way you spoke to everyone BUT him; he couldn’t stand you.

The pair of you had almost gotten to blows multiple times, but he just couldn’t bring himself to hit you. He’d threaten you with his sword but never use it, even though he thought about it more than he would like to admit.

Your asinine remarks would replay in his head sometimes. “Zoro, the amount of effort you put into working out and being stoic is fucking pathetic. Lighten up for once. You’re fucking draining to be around.” Your tone was vile and pitiful. He saw red any time you said stuff like that.

“Zoro, another bottle of sake? Like you haven’t had enough to drink for a whole year? Fucking alcoholic.” You would smirk and condescend, and he’d try to send it back your way but he felt like the couldn’t twist the dagger the same way that you could.

“Shut up,” he would respond, agitated and cold. “Mind your fucking business and go nag someone else, woman. You’re insufferable.”

What was the most agitating thing about you being an asshole to him was that you did it while looking so good. He hated that. He would actively mull the fact over—you were gorgeous, but you had such a rotten personality, it couldn’t be helped. You fought like shit, treated him like a child, mocked him, derided him… And he did the same to you. But he felt his cock twinge any time you got close and nasty with him.

“Yeah, Zoro? Going to go sneak back to your hideout and drown yourself with sake before swinging your swords around? Fucking weirdo.”

Sometimes he would get really intense about it. He’d seethe with hatred and respond with such loathing that it was a wonder he didn’t do anything about it. “If you don’t leave me alone, I swear I’ll slit your throat.”

“Yeah, jackass? I’m sure you like to dream about that, but you’ll never be able to do it because you’re 1: a pussy and 2: I’m your crewmate, idiot.” Sometimes you’d tease him for having the hots for you (which you thought was false), and he’d get so flushed and angry that you thought he would light on fire.

One night, a group of the crew was drinking on deck. You, Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Robin, and Usopp. Everyone was a few cups (or bottles) deep, and what started in raucous laughter ended with people splitting up into small groups or going inside for some snacks.

You and Zoro were unfortunately sitting next to each other, much to your mutual dislike. An offhand comment from Zoro (he was speaking to Usopp) vaguely alluded to you being bad at wielding a sword. It set you off. Your head whipped in his direction. He must have been sitting a few feet away.

“What the fuck did you just say, Zoro?”

He rolled his eyes and waved his hand. “What’s it to you? Can’t you mind your own damn business?”

You bit your lip and shoved the crude and despicable rebuttal back in your throat—it wasn’t worth fighting with him again. You already had a spat earlier that day, which left you both livid. Sometimes you’d goad him into it for fun and games. The added benefit was that he would get even hotter when he was angry. Sure, his personality was shit, but when he sneered and snarled at you he looked damn good. You were in denial about how much his scowls turned you on, but you ignored it because you couldn’t stand the man. He was just an atrocious person all around, and you let him know that every second that you could.

After you heard the comment, you huffed, snatched your bottle up and stormed inside. You were about to smack the shit out of him. When you stood up, the alcohol hit you—you were definitely tipsy, perhaps that was contributing to how enraged you were.

You went into the galley and you were about to grab another bottle when the door opened. Those familiar, maddeningly heavy, swaggering footsteps padded towards you. Presumably, Zoro was coming to grab another bottle of sake. Like he fucking needs one, you scoffed to yourself.

“Oh, great.” He was scornful and sarcastic. “You gettin’ more? Can’t wait to see how annoying you get after this bottle.”

“Zoro, you’re on my last fucking nerve.” You turned around and he was a couple feet away, arms crossed. Something in his eyes looked different.

“Is that so? When am I not on your last nerve? You’re so fuckin’ sensitive, get a grip.”

You bit your tongue, trying to not say something foul. You failed.

“Zoro, I’m so sick of you. Your presence is literally unbearable. I can’t stand you, seriously, not right now. And oh, by the way, you’re a shit swordsman.”

You knew that last part would infuriate him. You wanted to get him riled up. It was a sick form of entertainment for you. And anytime you told him he was a shit swordsman he went ballistic.

“Do you ever shut your damn mouth!?” He stepped forward, his voice angry. He was uncomfortably close. You were leaning back on the counter, trying to create any distance you could between your face and his, but he had you caged in. He put a hand on the counter behind you.

“Always looking to start a fight, huh?” His tone was contemptuous and belittling. “You’re about to bite off more than you can chew.”

The closer he got, the hotter he looked. You hated him, but fuck, he was a sight for sore eyes. When he was up this close, you felt even more intoxicated than you already were.

“And what would that mean?” You stared into his eyes, deadpan and annoyed. You placed it now, you could see what about his eyes looked different—his eyes were ravenous. He looked like he was starving for something. More liquor? You hoped he was hungry for something else.

“You’ve got such a big mouth and you never stop running it.” He was practically growling.

Your heartbeat grew faster, and heat started to bloom between your legs. He was so hot when he was angry. That was part of the fun. Especially when his voice got like that.

“And what are you going to do about it?” You raised an eyebrow at him, and your eyes were deadly.

“Might have to shut you up somehow. Maybe you’ll shut the fuck up if my cock is shoved down your throat.”

You actually laughed. “Oh, what is it? Like three inches?”

He drew his face closer to yours. The hand that wasn’t bracing himself on the counter came to squeeze one of your hips so hard that it hurt.

“I’m about to fuck you so hard I break you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fucking slut.” He murmured, his voice deep and hushed.

Your eyes were locked, eye contact blistering. He was staring into you so hard you thought he’d leave a burn mark on your irises.

“You’re an idiot, Zoro. Are you being serious? You’d cum all over yourself before you even got close to fucking me.”

“Mmmm, we’ll see about that.” He purred. You were speechless, your brain trying and failing to come up with something to throw back at him. It was short circuiting because he just said he wanted to fuck you.

In the moment that you were searching for an answer, his lips crashed into yours. His grip on your hip tightened; it was going to leave a bruise. As your bodies pressed together, you noticed his hard on rutting into you slowly.

The kisses were haphazard and sloppy, teeth knocking. He bit your lip so hard you almost yelped. A hand snuck up to grab a fistful of your hair and he pulled it so tight it’s a wonder he didn’t rip out a huge clump of it.

“You’re fucking useless.” He pulled away from you, murmuring in a husky tone centimeters away from your lips. “You talk all that shit but I know you want me to fuck you. Probably wanted it the whole time.”

“Shut up, Zoro.” You would have enjoyed every second of this if he just shut his trap.

He pushed you up so you were sitting on the counter. Sucking harshly on your neck, he bit it so hard you thought it would bleed. You let out a muffled whine in surprise.

“Are you already getting worked up and I’ve barely touched you?” His voice was poisonous.

“Holy shit, shut up, Zoro.”

“Say that one more time and I’ll put my cock in you.”

You doubled down. You hoped he was serious. “I said, shut the fuck up, Zoro.”

He let go of your hair and hips and proceeded to rip your pants and panties off in one go. He almost shredded the seams. He took in the sight for a moment.

Your eyes were bathed in lust, your breaths shallow and quick already. Your shirt rode up and your nipples were hard.

His fingers wandered to your now bare cunt and he let out a chuckle.

“You’re so fucking wet already. I know you’re going to take it all for me because you’re fucking desperate. Is that right?”

Your mouth went dry and you did the most miniscule of nods. You didn’t want him to know how badly you needed him.

He slid two thick fingers into your entrance then started to finger fuck you. Your walls tightened and pulsed around him, getting adjusted. Pushing them apart, his fingers roamed and prodded. It felt so good that you had to bite your lip to keep the moans back. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“You’ve been craving my cock this whole time like a depraved, touch-starved slut, haven’t you?”

His other hand grabbed a painful fist of your ass and then crept up to squeeze your throat. You let out a barely audible whimper and he felt his cock twitch.

You tried to squeak out words and you were barely successful. “You’re—the one—who’s hard—right now, Zoro.”

It was a lame comeback, but it drove him crazy. “Use your fucking mouth one more time and I’m going to stuff you so full you can’t talk.”

His fingers found your g-spot and pressed on it forcefully. You choked out a breathy “fuck you, Zoro,” and he went still.

“What was that?” His hand around your throat tightened. “Did you not hear what I just said, or are you fucking stupid?”

His fingers started to move twice as fast, and you squirmed. When he could tell you were about to orgasm, he pulled them out.  

He freed his cock from his pants and fisted it lazily for a moment before lining it up with your entrance. “You want this, don’t you? You ran your fat mouth too much, now I’m going to fuck the attitude out of you. Say I’m a shit swordsman one more time and I’ll choke the air out of you until you see stars, then I’ll stuff you full of my cock. But you’d probably like that. Fucking slut.”

“You’re—a fucking—shit—swordsman” you tried to get the words out as his fist squeezed your throat. You couldn’t breathe and you were so aroused that it was hard to focus.

He pushed his cock into your folds and through your slit, entering you inches at a time. You started seeing stars, as promised, and you could only focus on his vice grip around your throat and the sensation of his huge girthy cock stretching you out. He let go of your throat for a moment before bottoming out, and when his tip kissed your cervix he groaned.

“Just look at you. Drooling for my cock, you’re worthless.”

He leaned in so your foreheads touched and pulled out of you agonizingly slow.

“You want more? You want me to fuck you?”

You just looked at him, pouting. You didn’t want to admit it. But you wanted it, and you wanted it BAD. You nodded again and he plunged back into you forcefully. A wet squelching noise sounded into the room when he bottomed out again.

Zoro grinded his hips just enough so he could fuck you deep inside.

“What, the back talk stops the second I put my cock in you?”

You hissed air in through your teeth. “Fuck you, Zoro.”

His jaw dropped for a second and he lost composure, but he kept moving his hips all the same. “What was that?”

“I said fuck you.” You were glaring up at him petulantly.

He pulled his cock out completely and you gasped at the feeling of emptiness.

“Okay, if you hate me so much then I’ll just stop. Is that what you want?”

You could only shit talk for so long before the pleasure started to take over your mind in a haze. All that you knew now was that Zoro was saying dirty things to you and he just took his cock out. That was unacceptable, at this point.

“Zoro.” You whined. “Put it back.”

“Awh, you want me to put it back in?” He feigned pity while you nodded eagerly, throwing all dignity out of the window.

“If you want it that bad, then you need to beg for it like the pathetic little slut you are.”

Your cheeks smarted with blush. You couldn’t believe that you were about to beg for his dick, but you needed it so fucking bad you couldn’t hold back.

“Fuck. Please Zoro. Please keep fucking me.”

Now that he was getting carried away, he wanted to be cruel. You did have a habit of running your mouth, and he wanted to punish you for it.

“Hmm. That’s not quite good enough. If you really want it, say my name. Say my name and I’ll fuck you.”

“Zoro.” You pleaded, your voice strained. He snuck a hand back in your hair and pulled your hair so hard it hurt.

“No. I said, say my name.”

“Roronoa Zoro. Please. I need it.”

“Louder.”

“Roronoa Zoro. P-please.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He pressed his cock into you again with a groan. One hand was gripping your hip, and he moved the other down to rub circles over your clit. Your hips bucked.

You started to let out moans with reckless abandon—you needed it harder, faster, deeper, anything that he could possibly do with his cock, you needed it. The noises melted in his ear, but he was worried that someone would hear, so he kissed you. It actually felt tender at times—if you weren’t lost in pleasure, you’d have been able to feel his thumb rubbing a circle on your cheek. What was up with that?

Between his kisses, he said something filthier with each thrust. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“Fuck, Zoro. Feels so good. Your cock—feels so fucking good.”

His shaft and tip dragged over your g-spot countless times. Each time your moans got louder and the mess you were making on Zoro’s cock got juicier.

“Zoro, ‘m gonna cum.” You were at your wits end.

“That’s it, baby, cum on my cock. Cum for me. Just for me.”

That was all you needed to hear before you started to squirm and writhe with pleasure. Your fingers dug into his shoulders and your eyes rolled back in your head—it was that good. He fucked you through your orgasm and then pulled out to cum on your stomach. He wanted to cum inside, but he figured he’d save that for next time (if you were nice enough to let him).

Moments later, while he got you cleaned up, he admired how flushed you were and how lidded your eyes were with satisfaction.

“Baby, huh?” You giggled.

“What?” Zoro was puzzled.

“You called me baby.”

He turned crimson. “You heard me wrong, blockhead.”

“Mmmhmmm, sure. Now help me put my pants on. There’s no way I can walk after that, baby.”

He was speechless. He knew you were teasing him, but he liked it. Enemies to lovers, much?

You found out later that no one walked into the kitchen while you were fucking because Sanji almost went inside and got quite the eyeful through the mini window on the door. He almost puked at the sight then promptly told everyone “no one go in the galley because the two boneheads are doing something disgusting.”

[whatdudtheysay]

Part 1.

Lemme cook....

Y'all I'm thinking of.... Royal army leader Toji whose life long goal was... You. Your kingdom.

He wanted it all. Ever since he met you when you first turned 18, he was infatuated. You were graceful, kind, beautiful, soft, generous....fuck.

But life wasn't fair. He was the head of the royal army, not some ditzy prince who'd meet you at a ball and fill your little head with compliments and promises of affection...only to take control over your kingdom as a husband should do.

And was the kingdoms only heir, that was what would happen. He even heard you crying to your lady's maid about it one night while he was heading to your father's study.

Poor little thing.

Toji wanted you. No...that was an understatement. He needed you. He needed you so bad It was painful. He'd treat you better than any of those annoying Princes. He would worship any breath you took....

But like he knew....life wasn't fair.

Little did Toji know....you had somewhat of a crush on him too.

On the day you turned 18 and had the most boring birthday party, most of it was spent sitting down on the third throne your parents had created for you. Or...paid for it to be created. They hated getting their hands dirty.

Comfortable but not too much. Pure gold they said. It was becoming boring. But you couldn't complain. You were blessed to be born as the princess. The only princess of your kingdom.

So, you sat straight, chin up with a soft smile as thousands of villagers and merchants came through, giving you different gifts, gold, jewellery... etcetera.

You wanted to use the excuse of needing the bathroom but just then, the trumpets sounded and in came the royal guards. Your eyes lightly widened when you saw him.

First lieutenant, Fushiguro Toji.

He was tall as shit and handsome as hell. 6ft and 2 inches of pure perfection....those forest green eyes, that scar that slashed against his lips...his muscular physique. He was more of a man then those princes your parents have been trying so hard to introduce you to.

He dropped to his knee to bow deeply to you, his men doing the same.

"it is my pleasure to finally meet you, your Highness." Toji greeted. "May I?"

You nodded slightly, stretching your hand out. Toji smirked in a way that had your heart skipping unhealthy beats as he moved closer, taking your gloved hand in his before pressing a gentle, almost tender kiss against your hand.

Your father noticed whatever was going on between you and cleared his throat, prompting Toji to gently let your hand down as if you were made of glass.

He gave one last bow before leaving .

Now that was a man you'd be fine with marrying....

.

That night, Toji was pulled aside by none other than the king himself.

"Lieutenant Fushiguro....I'd be grateful if you didn't openly ogle my daughter." Your father told him in a firm but calm way.

"ogle?" Toji raised a brow.

"Yes. Ogle. Besides I'll need your assistance. The Duke from the northern regions will be here this Sunday morning to meet my daughter. You'll guard them." Her father ordered.

Toji kept quiet. He knew what your dad was doing.

It was the royal and rich way of telling him to "mind his place."

But Toji stayed steely gazed and nodded.

"of course, your Highness." He spoke flatly.

Your father gave him one last lingering glance before walking off.

He sighed deeply and glanced at the way your father disappeared.

Sure, your father said he shouldn't ogle you...but he never said he couldn't talk to you. Plus, he'd be in the palace for a while...

What better than to acquaint himself?

-----------

I wanna make this a series so y'all, lemme know 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

A/n - Y'all I'm so sorry about the taglist and all but I'm so disorganised. I'll get the people from the last taglist together and then try to get shit together<3

STILL TRYING TO WORK ON THE MASTER LIST.

Tags - @flamey-comet, @smolbeanzzz, @pandoraium, @hana-patata,

Thanks for support ↑ - if you wanna be added just ask <3

[leviismybby]

"You'll think twice before doing shit like that again." His deep voice whispers in your ear, it's been a few weeks since you started working as Captain Levi's paperwork assistant. Levi didn't like you at first, at least that's what he told himself yet despite that, he had you pinned on his desk most of the late nights in his office. Currently you were pinned against the wall, your legs wrapped around his hips as he fucks you slowly. He hated it when you disobeyed him.

Levi's hand moves to your jaw, he makes sure that you're facing him watching as your eyes roll back everytime his cock hits your deep spot. "When I tell you do to something you fucking do it, sweetheart." He bites into your neck leaving another hickey on your already marked skin. His hips speed up, your hand grab onto his shirt, wrinkling it as his cock goes deeper. The moans leaving your lips are loud enough for someone to hear if they walk past Levi's office, you could be thrown out of the survey corps if anyone found out but it honest worry you, the only thing you're focused on is him.

When your pussy starts to clench around his length, Levi grunts kissing you on the lips sloppily before pulling out of you and putting yo on the table. You were expecting him to enter you again, instead he spread your legs and kissed down your stomach. "You're a fucking minx." He kisses your oussy gently before spreading your folds with his fingers and letting his tongue run up and down, your back arches, fingers pulling on his raven locks. "Look how pathetic you are. You don't have a sense of shame do you?" His gray eyes watch your expressions as he focuses on pleasuring you with his mouth. Your hips buck earning a slap on your thigh from Levi, he pins your hips pinned down before sucking on your clit, a loud whine escapes your lips.

"Atta girl." He slides a finger inside of you, groaning as he feels your nails on his scalp. He shouldn't be doing this, you were his subordinate however the way you're reacting to his every touch is intoxicating. Feeling that you're about to cum, you slap a hand over your mouth and Levi doesn't appreciate that not one bit. "Let me hear you or else I am pulling away." It sounded more like a threat but there was slight desperation behind his voice. You let's your hand fall from your mouth and you grab the edge of the table instead, his tongue starts working faster and he adds another fingers inside of you.

"Captain! I am gonna cum- mhh!" Levi smirks slightly against your folds as he hears you, his hand speeds up, fingers sliding in and out of you. "Fuck...such a good pussy..." And that was all you needed to cum, your eyes rolled back, nails digging into the wood. Levi doesn't holds back and pleasures you through it as you cum on his tongue and fingers. He waits for a bit before pulling away and wiping his mouth, his eyes watch as you calm down from your high. Your hair was a mess, cheeks flushed, legs shaking slightly. If he could frame a picture of you like this on his wall he would. Kissing your neck lightly, he pulls his pants back up. "Now finish the work I told you and get the fuck out of my office."

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero!

Pt 5: What?!

Finally getting home from your patrol you sneak through the window of your bedroom and collapse onto your bed. After the call you decided that your patrol was done.

Frankly you're still coming to terms with the fact that Batman and his protogese are the same people who are essentially praying on your civilian self's downfall yet adoring your vigilante persona like it's the greatest thing in the world.

Though, now that you really think about it, it makes sense. Bruce Wayne is the richest man alive, he'd be able to afford to do this, they have the same amount of members as the heroes, same builds and heights, actually... Basically everything matches up.

Not to mention the fact that your senses goes off around both group members!

From outside your small room door you hear your parents arguing again - more like your mother yelling and your dad breaking things and stomping his foot. It was probably your dad's fault again. Don't get you wrong, you love your family! It's just that they're dysfunctional.

Your dad has a massive drinking problem that landed him working as a goon for Black Mask, he's struggled with his temper for years after he got hit a bit too hard in the head by Batman. Pair that with the fact that he's mute and he's a force to be reckoned with.

Your mom is always busy and rarely ever home, when she is she couldn't be bothered to interact with you unless you got into trouble. She grew up rich, often talking about how she went to the same school as Bruce Wayne and how she was a popular cheerleader before her life fell apart. She doesn't talk much on the topic but it's clear she holds distain for your father and, by extension, you.

You sigh to yourself, you need to shower. That means you need to get past them without them bringing you into it. Or you just don't shower for the night and have one tomorrow...

Your mom screams something out about not throwing knives and you decide to just shower tomorrow morning.

You change out of your costume and hide it safely under a loose floorboard, you change into your pajamas and get into bed. Today was a massive mental drain and physical drain.

...

You awake to a knock at the front door. Your parents usually ignore it and make you answer when someone knocks because "you're dispensable" as they say. Looking at the clock on the wall of the kitchen you see it's around 7am.

Groggily making your way to the door you look through the peep hole and see Tim standing awkwardly on the other side with a guy next to him, the guy next to him being so big and tall that you could only see a small part of his chest and arm.

You curse to yourself quietly, this is by far the worst luck you've ever had.

You open the door and look at the two. Now seeing the other guy the thing that stands out is a stripe of white hair on his head. Instantly you know it's Jason Todd.

You aren't an idiot. He's the only one in the family built like how he is - not including Bruce.

"What do you want?" You ask, annoyed. Tim chuckles weakly, as if nervous. "Wayne Enterprises wishes to give your mother her letter of departure." You blink once, then twice. "Huh? Letter of departure? The fuck does that mean?" You mutter, genuinely confused.

Jason scoffs, "it means your dear mother is losing her job, kid." He states uncaring of how blunt he's being. Tim elbows him and hisses something about being more considerate.

You don't listen, all noise becoming white noise. Why is she being fired? She works hard, she dedicates her time, she does her best! Is this because you have beef with Tim? That's not fair!

She's the only stable source of income, without that job you all would be living on the streets. You've heard AND seen so many horror stories about teens living on the streets, it's something you'd pray never happened to you. But now it's entirely probable.

So, in a moment of desperation you grip Tim by his shoulders "Please! You can't fire her! We'll end up homeless! She works all the time, she tries! My mother will improve if you ask, she needs this job. The whole family does!"

Tim seems shocked by this, his posture stiffening. Jason looks on guard, as if assessing whether he should step in, though he doesn't seem fond of the idea. You wouldn't doubt that he was made to accompany Tim as a body guard.

Tim opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. Clearly he wasn't expecting you to beg for your mother to keep her job.

"Uh... Look, I don't mean any harm by it, it's just that we need to make way for brighter minds..." He stumbles slightly over his words as if making the excuse up on the spot.

You won't back down however. "Tim, please, I desperately need you to realize this. I. Will. Die. On. The. Streets." Probably not true because of your mutation but the fear remains. "Please, I'll do anything for you to not do this! I already promised Bruce to stop talking bad about Aranea!" You please desperately.

Tim glances to Jason who quirks a brow and shrugs. The sound of movement from behind you makes your eyes widen and behind you you see your dad approaching, you were probably too loud.

He glares at you before yanking your hair so you move away from Tim and remove your clutches on him. You hiss in pain at the feeling but bow your head down.

Your dad eyes the two boys before looking to the paper in Tim's hands. He instantly knows what's going on and storms down the hallways of the complex to do who-knows what. That scares you. Your dad is unpredictable.

After some silence Tim speaks up. "Are you okay? Your dad pulled your hair pretty tightly..." You look down, ashamed. You couldn't even bother putting your walls up and defending your pride. Your life is basically falling apart at the seams.

"... I'll do anything for you to not fire my mother..." You mutter meekly, a far cry from how you usually act, something Tim notices immediately. He sighs to himself, he debates the odds. Maybe if he doesn't fire (Reader)'s mother then they can be even. The feud can end, it was pointless on your part to begin with for hating someone so sweet and kind, then hating him who defends the innocent.

"Fine. Your mother can stay, but, it may not be permanent. I suggest she find elsewhere in the mean time." Tim states before walking off. Jason takes a second to stare at your relived form, the slight smile of disbelief and look of relief in your eyes. He then leaves with Tim.

You close the door to the apartment and sink to the floor. That was terrifying. You'll have find a way of telling your mother the news before she goes into work in two hours.

You're officially having the day off from school and patrol today.

[caraphernellie]

hey, some more fluff shit.. ellie adores the smiles of her lover. when the corners of your lips curl up into that delicate simper, ellie can't help herself, smiling too.

even when it's done out of pity or sympathy—and let it be known that ellie hates to receive pity. but from you? she doesn't mind it, because your face just softens the blow entirely. she really does feel a million times better, like your soft lips are the cure to any ailment.

even on darkest days, ellie feels the purest happiness transmitted to her through nothing but your simple expression. she's so besotted with you that she feels the need to capture it with pen and pencil in hand, hours endlessly erasing and redrawing areas, scribbling out old sketches and trying again. there's something she feels she can't get quite right, it just doesn't hold the same feeling she gets from seeing the real thing.

it couldn't matter any less to you, because when she finally presents to you the piece she was most satisfied with, you smile. and ellie feels shown up, because this new, beaming look on your face is the prettiest she's ever seen, the kind that takes her breath away.

ellie loves being the one to make you smile and she loves it when you have to resist it, too. she's tried everything, memorising shitty puns and jokes to make you laugh, and it tends to be the jokes so painfully bad that ellie can see you hiding your grin at. pursing your lips and straining to maintain poker-faced.

"that was bad, babe. really fucking bad."

"was it though? you're laughing."

"i am not."

when you insist she's the least funniest person you've ever met, she pouts so dramatically, huffing and puffing, arms crossed. and it's all fixed the minute you press a kiss to her lips, chapped and sulking. she's the one who can't hold back from smiling anymore. and what else could ellie love more than your sweet smile? well, kissing it. from quick pecks to tender french kisses, the works. her cheeks are practically glowing red, the contrast to her attempted stoicism so wild that she gives up on it, her desires overtaking her in rush to kiss your lips 'till you're breathless.

take a shot every time the word 'smile' is said in this (dont do that)

[aingeal98]

Ultimately the resolution of Jason and Cass fights comes down to the fact that while he has his own ideals that don't mesh with the bats, Jason can be flexible. DC skipped the whole reconciliation with the family but while he's willing to kill it's generally a means to an end to him, not the whole entire point unless you're talking about Joker. Meanwhile for Cass the question of killing vs not killing is dead serious to her which means any time they're working together and things start going off track it's like:

Jason: Look if we kill this guy we send a message to his boss which makes it easier for us to negotiate with him from a position of power and I just think that-

Cass, snatching one of his guns and pointing it at her own head: Go on, pull the trigger. Kill him. Kill me. Go tell Batman that you let his daughter die to make a negotiation easier. He already let you die so no problem right? You think we should die? You think our life only worthwhile as part of a plan, just because we're killers? Are we doomed? Are we rotten to the core with no hope of redemption? Go on then, kill us and kill part of your soul alongside it. You clearly don't care for it so why are you even trying? Kill yourself along with us, come on Jason let's all just die right?

Jason, slowly backing away: I think you may be projecting a tiny bit so just. Calm down before I call the suicide hotline please.

Cass, slowly lowering the gun and knocking the random henchman unconscious: Yeah that's what I thought, fucking pussy.

Jason: Mm yeah you know what I hate you actually. Fuck this mission I'll just shoot you right now if you're going to be this annoying about it.

Jason, explaining things later to Dick: So I just kept shooting at her until I ran out of bullets and we both calmed down enough to call a truce. We tracked the guy down and didn't kill anyone but I did blow up the batplane just as a last minute screw you. Is she always this uh... intense?

Dick: Yeah, one time I broke up with Barbara and she threw me out a window. She's just like that.

[roosterforme]

Just thinking about Jake finding Darlin taking a nap after her first or maybe just a long day at work.🥹

Jake would find an exhausted Darlin' napping after a long day at work.... with their son.

Training ran late, and Jake hated leaving you and Liam on your own for dinner when he wasn't even deployed. By the time he got to the locker room, it was almost 7:30. It would be 8:00 when he got home.

He contemplated calling and offering to pick up that nasty pizza you loved, but he wasn't sure how your stomach was feeling today. Instead, he parked at the house and let himself in as quietly as he could. Concern washed over him when he was met with silence.

"Darlin'?" he called out, checking the kitchen first. There were some remnants of a meal on the counter, so hopefully you and Liam hadn't waited for him. When he walked past the nursery, he found it empty with the lights out. It wasn't until he walked into his own beroom and saw the two of you that he calmed down.

You and he were both sound asleep in the bed, a stack of books next to his little body. Both of you were in your pajamas, and Jake had never seen anything so cozy in his life. Your pregnant belly was so big now, two-year-old Liam had to curl up a little awkwardly next to you, but he was holding your hand.

"Fuck," Jake gasped, his heart catching in his throat over how much he loved this. Liam's little brother would be here any day now, and it was a good thing you were getting some rest. He tried to scoop his snoozing so up and away from you, but he was holding tight to your hand.

"Liam, it's Daddy," he whispered, wiggling those little fingers until they relented.

"Daddy?" he asked in his sweet little voice as he opened his eyes. "Hi, Daddy."

Jake kissed his forehead. "Hey, kiddo. It's bedtime, okay? Did Mommy help you brush your teeth?"

"Yeah," he said with a yawn.

"Perfect. Let's go to bed."

He was sound asleep again in a matter of seconds, and Jake kissed him three times and whispered, "I love you," before returning to his own room where he moved the stack of books.

He decided he would skip dinner in favor of more time cuddling with you and got himself ready. As quietly as he could, he undressed and cracked the window open. The sound of the ocean calmed him as he turned off the lamp next to the bed and climbed in.

"Liam? Jake?"

Your voice was hoarse in the darkness as you reached your hand out.

"Darlin', it's just me. I put Liam in his bed."

Your arms went around his neck, and your belly pressed against him. "I'm so tired," you whispered. Jake held you tight, kissing your cheek as you yawned. "This baby is kicking my ass."

He smiled into the darkness realizing that pretty soon, he'd be running ragged after two little boys. "Any day now, the baby will be kicking both our asses. Try to go back to sleep."

It took him a second to realize you already had.

[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch15

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4,Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14

Warning: MINORS DNI, sexual thoughts, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff, touch starved

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a long day of worrying over several different things, it was finally time to clock out.

You wanted relief to wash over you as Miguel took your hand.

You wanted to feel relieved as Miguel kept comforting you.

But it was difficult.

Your nerves were getting worse as you kept overthinking about everything that could go wrong. Miguel must have noticed because he kept helping you walk since you were stumbling everywhere. It was embarrassing.

"Amor, (love), I must admit while I hate how stressed you are, I can't help but find your clumsiness adorable." Miguel whispered as he kissed your neck.

"S-Sorry,"

"Allow me to ease yourself," Miguel hummed as his hands stroked down your waist, "I don't want my girl to get gray hairs before me."

"Haha," You chuckled.

As much as you enjoyed Miguel's attention, you knew that you needed answers first. Moving his hands away from your skirt, you leaned forward and pecked his lips.

"Answers first, Miguel."

"Of course,"

The car ride to Miguel's place was quiet. Miguel was respectful of your wishes, his arm only around your shoulder. How much of what Dana said was true? You knew that Miguel would be honest with you, but it still concerned you.

Noticing the car slowing down, you look out the window and saw beautiful skyscrapers. You watched as you pulled into a tightly secured parking lot. The driver parked and exited the vehicle.

"Sir, Ma'am, we have arrived." The driver spoke as he opened the door. Miguel helped you out,

"Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your night."

"Thank you, sir. You as well."

You were in awe over the parking lot alone. It was large, fancy and had lots of body guards. Miguel rested his hand against your waist, leading you towards a brightly lit elevator.

Once inside, you were surprised to see more buttons on the elevator pad than the one at work.

"Would you like to guess what floor I'm on?" Miguel asked you sweetly. You pressed your lips forward, thinking,

"Um...twenty?" You asked, pressing the button. Miguel just chuckled,

"No, try again."

"Uh, twenty-five?" You questioned, pressing another button.

"Haha," Miguel let out a loud laugh as he grabbed your hand, "You don't need to keep pressing the buttons."

"O-Oh! Sorry!"

"Here," Miguel held your hands as he pressed the final floor, "There we go, top floor."

--------

Miguel was itching to touch you more. The warmth of your hand was not enough for him. Feeling you tremble, Miguel just relished in your sweetness. He needed to be respectful of your wishes. To wait until he told you everything.

But Miguel was so bad at listening to himself.

Miguel wanted to kiss you. He wanted to press your body against his, wanting to feel your warmth. Miguel wanted to hear your sexy moans as he groped your body.

To have you pressed against these elevator walls as he slapping his dick into your tight walls. The sounds you would make as Miguel would turn your insides into a hot, wet mess. The way your legs would tremble as your pussy squeezed his dick.

'Shit'

Miguel inhaled deeply as he felt himself getting hard. How easy you did this to him. To think that even the great and powerful Miguel could fold so easily. All because of you.

"(Y/N), may I hold you just a bit?" Miguel asked, wanting you to feel what you were doing to him.

"S-Sure," You stuttered.

Ah, Miguel could never get enough of you. His shy little clumsy mouse. Closing his eyes, Miguel inhaled the perfume you wore. Such a sweet scent. Perfect for when he would ravish you later. His little dessert.

"Miguel," You whined softly.

"Sorry, I don't want anyone seeing," Miguel said a softly

It was true, he didn't want people seeing the state he was in. Almost like a feral beast just wanted to fuck his prey pregnant. Oh how the news reporters would eat this up.

Miguel just needed to wait until they got to his penthouse. Once the two of you did, Miguel hurried took your hand into his place.

--------

You're eyes widen at the sight of Miguel's penthouse. It was large and spacious. Miguel was quick to grab some water before leading you over to the couch.

"Sorry about this, but feel free to look around. I'm going to shower and take care of this first."

"It's okay. Take your time," You hummed. Miguel raised a brow towards you, a slight smirk on his face,

"Unless you care to join me?"

"A-Ah," Your cheeks started to burn, "A-Answers first!"

"Hm, if I answer some of your questions, would you then join me in the shower?"

Why did Miguel have to be so charming? Your heart was leaping at the thought of joining him. That and you pressed your legs together as you started to get hot.

"Maybe..."

"Alright. Before you start your questions, I want you to know that Dana means nothing to me."

"But she did at some point, right?" You hesitantly asked. Miguel sighed softly,

"We had known each other for a long time. She was a friend to me, at least before our two families spoke of marriage. To please my family, I tried to see Dana as something more than a friend...but..." Miguel's look turned sour.

"But?"

"I tried to love her, tried to give her the attention she wanted, but it was never enough. Dana wanted more. I couldn't stand her butting into everything. I started to lie to get rid of her."

"So...why did you sign the contract?" You asked. Miguel stroked your cheek,

"I did, but I didn't. One night I got drunk, too drunk, and she took advantage of it. (Y/N), I am using every lawyer I have under my belt to get out of this arrangement."

"I see," You whispered and gulped, "Um...have you ever...had sex with her?" You didn't want to ask, but you recalled Dana's words.

Miguel must have saw the hurt in your eyes. He kissed your head and stayed in front of you, keeping eye contact.

"I have twice, but it wasn't real love."

It hurt to hear Miguel admit it, but at least he was honest. You had wanted to be Miguel's first as well, but that might have been asking for too much.

"I have other questions...Dana mentioned about you hiding stuff about your family, your past and about your desires and wants?"

"I will answer everything you want. (Y/N), unlike that snake, I care for you. I truly love you and want to keep you by my side. If anything, my main desire is to free myself from that woman and have you all to myself." Miguel kissed your hands. "I want to keep you all to myself."

"Can't you rip the contract?"

"If only it were that easy," Miguel took the seat beside you, "If I were to rip the contract or refuse to marry her, then Dana will have access to my company. I can't let her take everything I worked hard for. She cares only for the money, but she will ruin everything."

"But...it allows you to openly have another relationship?"

"I've read the contract. I can do as I please, so long so, that I don't break off the marriage," Miguel sighed as he leaned back into the couch, "I swear that woman drives me insane."

Playing with your fingers, you could feel Miguel's stress. He truly hated Dana. Wanting to cheer him up, you slowly crawled on top of Miguel's lap. Your hands resting against his cheeks to get his attention again.

"I'm sorry for worrying about this...and for doubting you. I just...I just tend to overthink, that and Dana was pretty s-scary. This...This is my first relationship and I really really like you, Miguel. I was scared that it wasn't real."

"(Y/N)," Miguel wiped your tears away, pulling you in for a gentle kiss, "Sorry to not have warned you about her earlier."

"I-It's okay."

You sniffled softly, calming down. As you did, you whimpered as you felt Miguel's bulge press against your crotch. Miguel hummed lowly as his hands rested against your waist,

"Why don't I answer a few more questions in the shower? Help you clear your mind of worries?"

"Mhm, M-Miguel," You whimpered at the thought.

"Come, let's wash up."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter

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[icallhimjoey]

Not sure if you've done this but it fits the general mood of the fandom lately: I want grovel-y Joe. Knows he really fucked up but he's a guy so he doesn't know how to fix it so he just throws anything at the wall to see what sticks. And honestly we're not sure if we'll forgive him but we're definitely sticking around to see how far he's willing to go.

(yes I am in therapy 🤣)

okay im using this request to fix whatever that bullshit was that i wrote before this - hope you enjoy! Wordcount: 3.8K

---

I'll Let The Sun Decide

Joe realises it in the morning. Feels like the biggest fucking idiot in the world.

Correction: the biggest fucking idiot on the moon.

He watches you walk out of his bedroom after leaving a perfect cup of coffee, exactly how he likes it, on his bedside table and everything about that makes his heart ache.

After the way he behaved last night, he knows he doesn't deserve a sweet gesture from the girl who looks like she only managed to sleep for about two hours.

You look exhausted.

He only catches a glimpse of you, and a few seconds later he can hear the coffee machine go again. You're making a coffee for yourself after making him one, and Joe can't help but groan his face into his pillow.

Fuck.

He didn't reach out for you in the night.

Your one fucking rule.

He vaguely remembers going, "Hmm?" after he raised his head off his pillow in a jolt.

"Just me." You'd whispered, nothing malicious hidden in your voice, because it was after midnight and it wasn't the time to continue whatever you'd started earlier that evening.

He should've reached over then.

He hadn't. Not even a knee to your thigh, or a toe to your foot.

Nothing.

He should've been happy you'd come back to his flat instead of going to your own. You could've so easily decided to avoid him for a bit, but you didn't. You said you'd come back, and then you did, and, fuck.

He hadn't reached out.

He hadn't even read the texts you'd sent. Left you with a bunch of grey ticks.

Well.

He had read them, but only in the notification bar.

He'd seen the messages about you making it to the office safely. Of how Charlotte was there too - you'd do the work together and you'd be done much faster that way. A little later of how you'd just be another hour, and of how you'd let him know when you'd leave.

He wanted you to feel bad about choosing your work over him, so he withheld the coloured ticks and had felt real fucking smug over it. It was sickening how right he'd felt about his actions in the moment. Every petty little thing justified, just because you'd hurt his feelings.

You'd climbed into bed after he had already fallen asleep, and the feeling of movement next to him pulled him from his slumber. And then, instead of reaching over like he should have done, he had sighed all heavily, like he was really fucking annoyed that you'd woken him up as you got comfortable under his covers. He'd rolled over and ignored you. Turned his back and festered in his own anger like a moody teenager because he truly believed you deserved it.

What a fucking loser.

Didn't touch you all night.

The realisation slaps him in the face unexpectedly, and your early-morning kind gesture is what flips the entire script. What a fucking loser of a boyfriend.

You've made the deadline.

Joe sees it when he opens his messages after taking a perfect sip of hot coffee, and it's weird how he feels awful about himself and proud of you at the same time.

He didn't need to let the world burn over such a tiny inconvenience.

Joe hates the moon.

Longs for the sun.

The moon is cold and dark and he's all alone up there, only warmed by the light the sun will bring him.

The sun. Or, the messy-haired girl with tired eyes in soft clothes too big for her body who brought him a hot cup of coffee before she even made one for herself. Either or. Same thing.

Joe stares at your messages in silence, gives you the coloured ticks he should've given you last night, and feels heavy guilt find home in the pit of his stomach.

You finished all the work in time. Probably have done a real good job at it too. Did it at the office, away from Joe's bad temper, and managed to actually focus and forget about how he told you to fuck off when you were already on your way out anyway.

What a dick-move.

Fragile ego syndrome, you'd guessed then.

That dick-move is what had you second-guessing going back over to Joe's for a while. Maybe going back to your own flat was the smarter idea. Avoid the confrontation and just text him the next day, after he'd cooled off a bit.

Maybe he'd actually read those then.

Another dick-move.

Joe could be so annoying sometimes, but it was easy to read him and you knew that just a little consideration of your time would fix whatever this silly issue was. With that in mind, you'd made your way back over to his.

You knew his dick-moves only meant he was going to feel bad about himself come tomorrow morning.

And you were right.

Besides an annoyed sigh and a soft grumble, you didn't get much else from him when you got into bed.

That was fine.

Again, you didn't think it was the right time to continue a fight anyway.

But the morning brought something new.

You woke up before Joe did and it took a few seconds for you to remember. To realise your prediction was right. Joe hasn't reached out in the night. No silent I still love you touch under the covers for you.

And it stings.

Could make you cry if you thought about it long enough.

Joe's stayed on his side of the bed, facing away from you, and you tell yourself that at least you've come back to his flat like you said you would. You finished the work you had to finish, and did the right thing by returning.

But then, you concluded, you also haven't reached out to him at all, and immediately felt bad.

Joe can be so annoying sometimes, but you do still love him, and a warm palm to a shoulder blade could've at least let him know.

It would've made you the bigger person.

Which, you still were. You came back, didn't you? But Joe was being an absolute child and you didn't want to sink down to his level.

You should've reached over. Should've touched him. You have no good excuse for not following the one rule you came up with after your first real argument, and now you feel bad.

Shit.

The coffee is to make up for it. At least a little. To say, I'm sorry I didn't reach out, here's me doing that now.

"Morning," you whispered when you saw him stir and open a squinty, confused eye.

You didn't wait for a reply. Just left the coffee there and walked back to go and make yourself one too.

Joe watched you leave and the moon came crashing down.

He knows what the coffee means.

He's read your messages, can hear you make breakfast in his kitchen and decides he needs to reach out too. With his coffee in hand, he gets up and makes his way over to his living area where he finds you rubbing your fist into an eye through a yawn, with a carton of eggs in the other hand.

"Morning," he croaks, and sees how it's only just starting to get light outside, it's so early still.

It feels a little weird and embarrassing to speak to you right now. To remember how you'd been in this same room just a few hours ago, and he'd told you to fuck off.

Fuck off, he'd said. To his girlfriend. Had meant it with his whole chest too. What a fucking idiot.

You turn your head to give him a small smile that doesn't reach your eyes, and ask, "Do you want some eggs?"

The moon can die.

He doesn't want the moon.

The moon is too far from the sun. He wants you closer and happy and well-rested and for your smile to overtake your whole lovely beautiful face when you see him and he hasn't got the faintest clue where to even start to fix it.

He doesn't know how to turn all the feelings in his chest into words to convey how sorry he feels. Has no idea what to say. Has no idea how you'll react to a verbal apology either.

But you look so soft, shoulders slouched, the scrunched up bit of fabric that held your hair up and out of your face as you slept about to slip out. And, even though he can tell it's not a real smile, you're still giving him a kind face. You're being civil.

You've made him a coffee how he likes it and just offered to make him some eggs and, Jesus, he's just the most awful person ever, isn't he?

The overwhelming need to wrap himself around all of you takes over.

Joe leaves his coffee on the side and steps closer to attach himself to your back. You accept it, and he can feel how you let your head rest against the side of his as he hugs you, arms tight around your waist.

He's glad that you let him.

But he also feels the defeat there.

The, Joe what the fuck, that's waiting to slip out of your mouth. Maybe it's why you're keeping things surface level. No time or energy to get into an actual conversation right now. Just breakfast eggs and perfect coffee.

That's okay.

Joe doesn't know what to say anyway, and he'd love some eggs, actually.

"I'd love some, but," Joe kisses the side of your face, does it quick so he doesn't have to feel you pull away from it, and then gently moves you aside. "Let me."

A first attempt at fixing it.

Joe finishes breakfast whilst you go for the quickest shower of your life. When you turn the water off he asks what time you need to leave from the kitchen. His eyes find your coffee that's going cold, and he thinks it's so stupid that you have to be back at work so soon.

This time he doesn't feel sorry for himself, though. This time he feels sorry for you.

It's a big difference.

You've only just left the office, Joe thinks. And sure, sometimes he makes long hours and feels like he lives on set, but you're in an office.

He knows that's different.

Worse.

You've got to go and present all the things you've finished and he knows you like it just as much as he does. That being: not at all. There's no use in getting angry at you.

He sees that now.

You're just as much at fault for not being able to go out with him last night as he is. That being: not at all.

Joe watches you take a few hurried mouthfuls of egg on toast, and he wants to tell you sorry before you leave.

He doesn't.

Isn't sure how, and feels like a literal child because, Jesus Christ, they're just words.

But you smile at him, even though it's only small. And you let him kiss your cheek on your way out. And when you've left, it's not even eight o'clock, which is too fucking early, and he decides he needs to give you more quiet I love yous that he didn't give you under the covers in the night the way he should've done.

You get flowers delivered to the office that afternoon.

It's a large bunch, beautiful colours, and you can't lie; it absolutely makes you smile. You can tell it's expensive, and you know he's paid extra for the same day delivery, but... he didn't reach for you last night, and you didn't reach for him either, and whenever you think of Joe, that's all that comes to mind.

You'd seen him turn to stone.

So cold and careless.

Had seen in his face how he didn't give a single shit about how inconsiderate he was being.

A bunch of flowers isn't going to magically make that visual go away, but it's nice that he' tried's trying, and you try to hold onto that.

When you leave the office that day, you text Joe that you're headed to your own flat because there's food in your fridge that needs eating before it goes off, and your dishwasher is half filled with dirty dishes that have been in there for about a week already, so you kind of need to go turn it on, and there's probably also a load of laundry you could do, plus a quick pass of your floors with a vacuum, maybe.

Joe doesn't get to read it for a few hours. Busy day on set. When he eventually does, sort of annoyed that you had to wait for his coloured ticks again, he texts back, "Yours?"

And you text back so quickly, it makes his guilt grow.

"don't forget your key, im gonna lie down "

Perfect, Joe thinks. He'll sneak in and maybe get some of your shit sorted whilst you kip on your sofa.

But when he walks in, you're not on the sofa. You're already in bed, and that's sort of heartbreaking, because it's so early, and Joe finds the food that's about to go off uneaten in your fridge still. Finds the dishwasher still half filled, smelling rank, dirty dishes growing mould in there. He also sees the full hamper that needs sorting and washing, and, how had he even had the gall to assume that you could just make time for him at a moment's notice when you hadn't even been able to take care of any of this?

Joe starts the dishwasher.

Sorts your dirty laundry and starts a dark wash.

Cooks the food that's about to go off and places it in plastic tubs to have at another time.

Notices you've not taken the flowers that he had express delivered home and tries not let that affect him, but fails.

You're not sure what it is that wakes you. The beeping of the dishwasher, or the clanging of plates as Joe places the clean ones back into their cupboards. When Joe comes to find you, you're on your side, facing away from the door, but Joe can see you're awake by the light from your phone that silhouettes you.

"You're awake," Joe says, voice surprised, and it makes you turn to look over your shoulder.

"Hey," you say softly, and Joe's eyebrows knit together automatically at how sad you sound.

"Thanks for the flowers," you turn in bed to let Joe kiss you as he bends over to place a small one to your forehead. "They got delivered during my presentation."

"Was it embarrassing?" Joe asks, sitting down next to you, one arm either side of you as he leans over. Kisses you again, but on your mouth this time.

"Very. Vanessa just barged in with them."

"Did you like them?"

"Hmm," you nod and give a little smile. Joe's glad for it, but he feels there's a distance there still. You're keeping your hands to yourself, even though his bare arms are right there.

"I um," Joe starts, and wants to start listing all the things he's done. Wants to tell you how he's been sweet, and kind, like you were with him this morning, and he wants those things to be the silent I love yous he should've given you last night.

But then he changes his mind and says, "Did the, um... did the presentation go okay?"

You nod, because it did go really well, actually. Thank fuck. But Joe doesn't ask any more questions about it, and he seems to hesitate to even speak at all. Seems to want to say something that he's clearly not saying. Afraid to say the wrong thing, maybe. You wonder if there's a sincere I'm sorry hiding in there somewhere.

"You seem tired..." he skirts around the issue, and it's disappointing, but not surprising.

"I am tired."

Then Joe looks at the empty space in your bed for a moment and gets up. Starts undressing. Leaves his clothes in a neat pile on your dresser and goes to brush his teeth.

When Joe looks at himself in the mirror, he frowns.

Fucking idiot.

Look at that coward.

He rests both hands on the sink, hangs into his shoulders, breathes through flared nostrils, and feels like a failure. You must think he is one too.

He didn't reach over last night.

With his toothbrush still in his mouth, he steps back into your bedroom and inhales a deep breath through his nose before he mumbles a barely audible and a very foamy, "I shouldn't have..."

He hears himself, grumbles low in this throat and turns on his heel, spits the toothpaste out and comes back.

Starts again.

"I shouldn't have said those things. Last night. I was being a dick, I shouldn't have done– well, anything, really. I was being mean just to be mean, I'm–"

"Joe," you interrupt, your voice soft.

You didn't reach out either.

"No," Joe argues, moves to sit back down next to you, arms back either side of you, hands pressing into the mattress. "You have nothing to be sorry for, I just," Joe sighs. Frowns. Doesn't know what to say.

What can he say to make you run a hand up one of his forearms?

"I didn't..." he tries once more, but falters again. Drops his head and knows he can't cry because he is not the person he's hurt.

He didn't reach over last night.

"Hey. I didn't either."

You read between the lines, even though your vision goes blurry with tears. You can hear the words Joe isn't saying and can read the thoughts he's not communicating. Joe's face always tells you a million things. You wonder if he's aware how easy he is to read.

You also wonder if he's aware that it's not going to be enough.

Joe swipes a thumb across your temple, close to your eye, and catches a tear that was about to slide into your hair.

He swallows thickly. Tries to swallow down whatever's hurting his throat.

"I don't want to live on the moon..." he then mutters, regretting how he set the world on fire. He wants to live on planet earth, even though it's all grey and black ashes now. He'll plant flowers there. Will feed them water, and will politely ask the sun let them grow.

Will ask you.

You're the sun.

You get to decide.

You don't fully understand what Joe means, because it sounds ridiculous, actors and their theatrics, but you tell him you don't want to live on the moon either and he huffs a laugh at how absurd that sounds coming from your straight face that's pretending it's not actively crying.

You're the sun.

Of course you don't want to live on the moon, silly.

"Your priority–" you start, breath hitching, but Joe is quick to interrupt.

"You. You. Us. I'm... it's us. I promise, it's us..." Joe sighs again, seemingly upset at remembering his own behaviour.

"Saying that is easy, though," you start, finally letting your fingers slowly wrap around one of his arms.

A touch.

It's enough to make Joe's whole face crumble.

He ducks down. Lets his arms find your shoulders to pull you up a little so he can hug you properly, both arms wrapped tightly around your frame, his face hidden into your neck, and you know Joe's only crying because of your fingertips touching his wrist. The smallest things can get him sometimes – so dramatic.

But you continue, "I believe that you believe that your priority is us, but when you're stomping around your kitchen, blaming me for shit I have no controll over, telling me that it's my fault that I–"

"No," Joe mumbles into your skin, and pulls back just enough to press his forehead against yours. "No."

And you give his forehead a slight push with yours and you want to say, yes.

Yes that's what you were doing.

Yes that's what happened.

Yes you got caught up in all of your own feelings and forgot that I have a whole set of my own.

But then Joe whispers, "I'm sorry." and you can't help but go absolutely lax in his hold.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I love you, I'm sorry." he whispers his apologies against your mouth through heavy breaths because he's doing his best to not cry, but he's failing, because then he feels you shake with a sob, and, fuck that, he'll banish himself to the moon, actually.

He'll live up there no matter how miserable it is, and he'll take whatever sunlight he can get, and he'll be thankful for the rays you'll allow to even reach him at all.

"You didn't t-touch–" you stutter, and immediately feel Joe squeeze you tighter.

"I'm sorry, I love you. I'm so sorry." Joe whispers right into your ear. Keeps repeating it, over and over and over.

Your one rule.

He should've never broken it.

It's good to hear the words, the I'm sorrys tumbling over his lips, and you'll accept them for now. But actions speak louder than words, and you know that there will probably be a time where the way the world treats Joe will make his head grow to twice its size again. He'll do and say similar shit. Won't want to meet you halfway, but will demand that you make the trek all the way over to him, won't care what the ground will look like, and won't care if you're wearing shoes for it or not.

Joe doesn't know it right now, but you can see into the future and know it will happen again.

And when it does, you'll grow a little colder.

Let some of your rays die out.

"Here. Lay back." Joe says after holding you for a while, and when your head finds your pillow again, Joe curls around and uses every body part of his to touch yours under the covers.

Every inch of skin touching yours is a big fat quiet I love you that he'll repeatedly tell you all night. He's not gonna let go.

He knows he's on the moon still. Up there, all alone. Cold. In the dark.

He said he's sorry, but knows it's not enough.

Wants off, but is smart enough to not set foot somewhere he's not allowed yet.

He has said that he's sorry, and now he needs to wait for the sun.

Wait for you.

And he'll touch you under the covers until you're ready.

Whispers the promises into your hair as you fall asleep.

You get to decide.

He'll let the sun decide.

---

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[ladyofrosefire]

fuck it, bg3 companions shower routine

Shadowheart: Shar hates self-care, but a Shadowheart does take pride in her hair, and a Shadowheart who has learned to be kind to herself can indulge. Long, complicated hair routine, very specific water temperature, and a tendency toward long-ass depression showers. LOVES a bubble bath and will make a whole event of it with flower petals and candles just for her. Will bring a book with a little book tray and a glass of wine.

Astarion: Similarly complicated hair routine. Gotta hydrate the curls, and being dead does not do nice things to your hair. Less prone to standing there staring at nothing while the horrors set in, but prone to scrubbing too hard. Similarly fond of a bubble bath, although without the book or flowers, although he will fuck with an essential oil heater and likes to make his own blends.

Lae'zel: Queen of the 4 minute shower. She has been accused of not even waiting for the water to heat up, but she likes it blistering. Does not actually use 3-in-1, thank you. Having fairly short hair helps. She finds the other companions baffling. Would get bored in a bubble bath unless she had company (rubber duck counts).

Wyll: Sings. If someone called him on it, he would be embarrassed, the first time, for about a minute. Neither wildly efficient nor inclined to standing there for ages and ages and prefers to shower in the morning. Washing his hair is a chance to relax and take care of himself, although before he has his family back, it can be a bit melancholy. He has fallen asleep in the bath before. I feel like he'd love a bath bomb and he'd love the full romantic evening with candles and flowers and music.

Karlach: Please, please someone boil her. Once she gets her engine fixed all the way, she tries a cold shower just to remember what it feels like and keeps up a running commentary about how much it sucks while also not turning up the temperature. Absolutely loves sharing a shower with someone and will also sing. Should not attempt her little jig on wet tiles. May try anyway. Someone should introduce her to proper hair/skin care because if anyone is using 3-in-1, I'm sorry, it's Karlach. Genuinely cannot sit still for a bubble bath unless she has company to cuddle.

Gale: Voted Faerun's Most Likely to Relitigate Arguments in the Shower, Even if He Won Originally. Loves to pamper himself, canonically, loves a spa day, also canonically. You simply are not getting the bathroom back for a good hour, although not all that time involves running water. Plays around with different products and researches the living hell out of everything. Loves a long soak. The only person with a feline in their house to ever bathe in peace. Constantly torn between wanting a book with him when he has a bath and not wanting to get the pages steamy and damp, much less actually wet.

Minthara: Her ideal hair wash involves someone else doing it for her while also having the utmost certainty that the person will not attempt to murder her. If her partner washes her hair for her, she turns into a puddle. She has an incredibly specific lineup of products. If she shares, understand that she has bestowed upon you a great gift. More about bath salts than bubbles and could be persuaded to a sufficiently elegant bath bomb (it would not be a difficult check).

Halsin: Low-flow showerhead user. Hell, he might be the kind of person to turn the water off entirely when not soaking/rinsing out his hair... However, he is not immune to the "shower together to save water" line even though he KNOWS it doesn't work that way. He needs low-scent soaps/etc considering his heightened sense of smell. And listen, this man does not fit in a bathtub unless he goes somewhere special or finds a particularly large one. He made everyone floaty ducks, properly sealed against water damage, and he has one for himself that holds his soap.

Jaheira: Understands that having a chair in the shower is just being kind to yourself and proceeds accordingly. Will revisit arguments she had that day, but despite that has a quick and fairly simple routine. She needs the water pressure to pound the everloving hell out of her back. Loofa on a stick user. Like Wyll, she has fallen asleep in a bathtub, in part thanks to having and using a bath cushion. Truly, the expert on bath-based comfort.

Minsc: Also sings in the shower. LOUDLY. Boo is allowed to sit a shelf out of the way. The best way to get him to use lotion is to give him something that smells yummy. He has similar problems to Halsin regarding fitting in bathtubs. He tries anyway. He has been banned from at least one hotspring for doing a cannonball.

[sunflowerreid]

“Please I haven’t felt you in a month” sub Spence! Love ur work babe!

I’m so sorry that this took so long but I’m back now hope you like it :))))) x

Finally - S.R

Warnings : sub Spencer, quickie, sex against the door, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), dry humping

Twenty three days. It had been twenty three days since you’d last seen Spencer. He’d been working a challenging case and had to stay behind afterwards to help with paperwork and to help the families of those that has lost loved ones. You’d of course spoken to him over the phone, helped him calm his anxiety whenever he was feeling stressed or confused but it wasn’t the same, you hated waking up alone in a cold bed. The phone calls were almost always cut short, Spencer had been sharing a hotel room with Morgan so your calls always ended up being interrupted by his snoring or complaining. To put it in simple terms, you missed him. His touch, his smell, how he snuggled up to you in the morning, you missed everything about him, big and small. Luckily you’d received a phone call from him before you went into work claiming he’d be home and waiting for you when you got home tonight. The relief you felt was like nothing you’d ever experienced; since the moment you both became official this was the longest amount of time you’d spent apart from each other and you couldn’t wait to get back to him.

~One hour later~

He was home. The first thing you’d tripped over as you rushed through the door were his worn out, purple converse. They’d been chucked messily in the entranceway of your shared flat along with his satchel and coat. “Y/N!! Y/N!!” Spencer shouted, appearing from the bedroom after he’d heard the door open. “ANGEL!” You replied as he rushed towards you, arms wrapping around you, holding on as tight as he possibly could as he hid his face in your neck. “Missed you, missed you so much, love you” he whimpered trying to get impossibly closer to you. “I know angel, I know, never again okay I love you too honey” you soothed as you gently stroked his hair, fingers softly tangling in his curls.

His breathing slowed as his arms tightened around you, beginning to leave gentle kisses against the sweet spot of your neck. “Angel” you moaned as your finger tugged at his hair, bringing his head up to face you. “Please, please need you please” he whimpered as his hips began to grind gently against you, his head tilting back as he softly moaned. “So desperate for me angel” you whispered, putting your thigh in between his legs as his thrusts quickened. “God please, need you so badly haven’t felt you in a month” he sobbed getting closer to staining his boxers. “I’ve got you angel don’t worry” you reassured him, gently pushing his hips back and undoing his belt. “Against the door angel” you demanded, him immediately following your instructions as you pushed his trousers and boxers down together. His erection slapped up against his stomach, leaking, pulsing and as flushed as the rest of him. “FUCK” he shouted tears streaking down his face as you lowered to your knees taking the leaking tip of him into your mouth, tongue swirling against the sensitive slit. “God please, fuck please, need to cum please, PLEASE” he sobbed, hips twitching, thighs shaking as he hunched over slightly tangling his hands in your hair for some support.

“Alright honey, clothes off” you whispered realising how desperate he must be as he stripped himself of his shirt and with shaking hands helped you with yours. You jumped up into his arms as he held you up against the door pushing his sensitive tip through your wetness gently nudging your clit at the end of every thrust. “Alright angel no more teasing” you moaned. “M’sorry, gonna push in have to push in need to feel you” he begged, his ears ringing slightly. “Do it angel need to feel you as well” you whimpered slightly as he nudged the his thick tip inside. “FUCKK” he moaned as he thrusted inside filling you fully, “That’s it angel that’s it” you whispered head falling back against the door as he thrust up gently. “Please need to go faster can I go faster? Please baby please” he begged desperately. “Go on angel been so good for me” you moaned as he immediately pulled out before pushing back in. “God fuck, love you so much” he sobbed, head falling back into your neck as he thrust erratically into you hitting your spot every time. “That’s it angel so good” you moaned getting closer with every thrust. His legs shook desperately as his hips sped up losing his rhythm, “M’sorry m’so sorry gonna cum I can’t hold it M’sorry please can I cum?” He whimpered. He’d held on for longer than you’d expected, denying him would’ve been cruel. “Cum for me angel” you whispered in his ear. “YES FUCK YES” he screamed as he thrust one final time, his eyes rolled back as he shook violently against you. “Fuck angel that it” you moaned as you tightened around him, his orgasm triggering yours as you melted in between him and the door. “That’s it angel come back to me, did so well honey, love you so much” you whispered, soothing him after his harsh finish.

Hundreds of kisses, fifteen “I love you’s” and one shower later you were both tucked up in bed, legs tangled beneath the sheets as you slept peacefully for the first time in twenty three days. Blissfully unaware of the noise complaint currently being written by your neighbour. Nothing else mattered, absolutely nothing, he was finally home.

[major-trouble]

There's this book I want to talk about. About a Perfectly Normal Spaceship (lol) and the adventures of its crew.

So, I know I keep harping on about this, but I finished my reread this evening and I have to say - it's better the second time through.

There were a lot of things I missed on the first round, mainly because I was devouring it as fast as I could in a wide-eyed rampage of unbelievably hyper-focused attentiveness that nearly made me mess up the start of the academic year for a major post-secondary institution.

But anyway.

Taking a much calmer, more measured approach, I still found myself drawn deeply into the story and anticipating the next plot point with glee and amxiety. I could clearly see the foreshadowing now. And it made the experience richer.

For the record, I fucking hate reading first person narratives. They drive me up the wall for personal reasons. And first person present tense?? Fucking hell. This story blows my mind with how well the author takes these elements and makes them work. I want to hug Aspen and kick them in the ribs. I want to listen to Tal talk about shit forever. I want to understand Celti's motives and give Hive the opportunity to see butterflies.

The characters are real and grow in ways I was expecting.

Anyway, please go read this story. It's not going to change your life, but it will definitely cause a time dilation effect and make you late for something. Also go check out the rest of the @derinthescarletpescatarian stuff. You won't regret it.