#Any time someone mentions black holes I have to pull up this gif and make sure everyone has seen it

[deep-space-netwerk]

Alright, so, black holes right?

Most people have probably seen this astOUNDING image of the black hole at the center of the M87 galaxy - the first real picture of a black hole.

It may look like a blurry orange donut, but you gotta understand, this was and still is a hugely impressive achievement. At a black hole's event horizon, the escape velocity (or the speed at which something has to travel to escape the body's gravitational pull) is faster than the speed of light. By definition a black hole cannot be directly observed. Imaging the shadow of M87* required using eight ground-based radio telescopes all over the world, working together as an interferometer - or as though they were one single telescope the size of the entire planet.

So that's fucking cool in its own right, but how did we know that black holes existed before 2019 when we could actually "see" one? How do we detect something that reflects no light when we DON'T have a simulated telescope the size of Earth? The answer is gravity.

We think that most large galaxies have supermassive black holes at their centers, left over from their chaotic infancies when hundreds of thousands of early stars collided and then collapsed, and then kept colliding. To give you an idea of what we mean by "supermassive", the black hole at the center of the Milky Way, Sagittarius A* (pronounced "A-star"), is about 4 million times the mass of our sun. And that's SMALL.

So while black holes aren't the horrible all-consuming reality-guzzling unmakers of creation that science fiction likes to paint them as - we aren't in any danger whatsoever from Sagittarius A*, now or ever - they CAN get big enough to really throw things around. So we looked for objects moving under the influence of . . . nothing.

This gif is a years-long timelapse of stars orbiting something in a seemingly-empty region of space the center of the Milky Way, the approximate location marked with a red plus sign.

That something is Sag A*. It's an invisible behemoth, made of the extraordinarily dense remains of the birth of our galaxy, juggling entire solar systems the way Jupiter flings asteroids. And for so long, we couldn't even see it.

This shit makes me go fucking crazy. Imagine what else is out there that we don't understand just because we don't have the tools to even know it exists! Not just in space, in any field of scientific study!

It wasn't until the 1990s that we started realizing trees talk to each other, and now we know there's fungal mycelium networks that connect trees across entire continents. Just THIS YEAR we discovered an entirely new ecosystem underneath the hydrothermal vents in the deepest parts of the ocean floor. For most of human history, the existence of planets around other stars was highly debated, and now we've confirmed over 5 thousand of them. We even know what some of their atmospheres are made of!

There's a saying that "the more you know, the more you know you'll never know", and I feel like there's never been a time in history when that's been more true. And it's almost comforting, y'know? The universe is so vast, it feels correct that we shouldn't be able to understand all of its intricacies.

Reality is stranger than fiction, and the reality is there's stuff out there that we don't even have the words to begin to describe. Until we do! And our reward is even more questions!

[spookypete-94]

Dead!GhostxLiving!Reader

Just for you @meraziam. I liked this concept and I'm glad you do too!

Part 1 here

Ghost followed you home from the cemetery curious about who you are and what exactly happened to make you so angry.

TW for mentioned abuse and suicide

Enjoy!

The idea of going to the cemetery to tell off your dead abusive ex made you feel better... at the time. Now you just felt ridiculous. Someone could have seen you curse out and spit at a grave... what were you thinking?? You had to look insane.

Maybe the walk home would calm the nerves, wearing off the anger and embarrassment of your recent tantrum.

Leaving the graveyard, you couldn't help but notice feeling cold. Like the frigid from being outside too long on an icy day, seeping into your bones. Lingering and making your bones ache.

Perhaps sickness was setting in. Maybe winter right around the corner.

If only you could see the large hulking figure with an arm wrapped around your waste. It was black, longer than a normal human arm. A shadow holding you close, trying to console your feelings, but he was pulling your energy away making his stronger.

Returning home, Ghost stepped through the main door after shutting it on him.

Rude, but he couldn't blame you. He would close the door on himself in turn if he could.

Looking around he noticed the damage. The holes in the walls, broken items of yours from being thrown around, glass and debris scattered. It was all familiar to him. He was used to seeing this from growing up, but his heart fell, nonetheless. Memories of everyone in his household hiding and cowering from his father returned. Pieces of the puzzle all coming together.

You on the other hand made a cup of hot tea, still trying to shake off the cold burn you had picked up on your walk. Adding honey to your tea made Ghost feel nostalgic, something his mother did when he wanted something sweet.

Glancing over, he looked down at the laptop you were aimlessly scrolling on until you had clicked a press release from the local news. Reading over your shoulder, he learned what your name was along with verifying the name of the man you had visited that was in the ground. The man had been drunk when he struck you, trying to hold you down while you were trying to get away. Anger and panic rose within him, probably the same you had felt during the event. Luckily, you were able to slip away, calling for help... But the police were too late finding your broken lover gone. Maybe it was shame that caused him to take his own life, maybe it was something even greater than that.

How he would give anything to console you, to hold you and make this right. Can't you see how better off you are without someone hurting your beautiful self? You have Ghost now to look after you and keep you safe. He was here to take care of you, to make you his new home.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could have sworn a shadow was there. Every time you would look over though, it seemed to blend in with the rest of your surroundings. A trick of the eyes? Or maybe your head was still rocked from the assault. Either way, it pleased Ghost to know you could at least see something about him even if it wasn't his entire self. This fed him and made him stronger in his state.

Sure, you had noticed the little things around the house being done. Like the dishes being washed and the laundry folded and set on your bed. Pretty panties left on the top of the pile. Maybe your memory was still short from the trauma, but honestly you had no recollection of doing any of these tasks. It was like someone was taking care of you. Someone making sure your house and routine was running smoothly.

It was you hiring a handy man to come fix the holes in the walls however that Ghost learned more about his new abilities. Watching another man step into your home enraged him. Ghost wanted to protect you and have all to his self. He made himself tall, form black as night, not even a chance of any light shining through. Approaching the handy man slowly, like he was stalking his prey. The poor victim turned and ran, unsure of this unnatural being that was encroaching, all too sure that it was not of this world.

So, when you came home and the work was done, you didn't even think about it at first. Until you noticed tools left next to the check to pay for the job left on your table was when it seemed suspicious.

Who does the work and doesn't take the payment for it? The handyman even had gone as far to block your number after reaching out to get him his check.

Finally, what made you even think about someone else being in the house was the heavy footsteps sounding down the hallway and into your bedroom one night.

Sitting up in your bed, you glanced around, trying to calm down. Were you dreaming again? Still breathing heavy, trying to convince yourself that was the case and everything was fine. Until you saw the other side of your bed sink down... like someone was laying on it. An indent in the blankets and pillow where a head would be. The feeling to get up and run away was overwhelming, but at the same time you weren't exactly terrified.

Was it your dead ex?

"Who are you?" You asked.

Just as expected, no answer.

Instead, the indent moved as someone rolled closer to you, an arm slithering around you to pull you back into them.

He never held you like this... this was someone else entirely.

"Who are you?" You asked again. Still no answer. The cold feeling was back, and your energy was zapped, leaving you tired and craving sleep.

That's fine. You would find a way to communicate somehow.

Simon Ghost Riley Masterlist

[lovebugism]

hiii idk if you’re still taking requests but can you do something smutty with steve in season 3 w his scoops ahoy uniform on after he gets home from work or something🙏🏼🙏🏼

like sub!babygirl!steve is so 🤤🤤😽😽 and a

dom!femreader 🫶❤️❤️ AND OMG HE HAS A MOMMY KINK😧😧 I BEG OF YOU

✶ ┄ OH, BABY !

summary: after a long day at work, steve harrington needs someone (*cough cough* you) to take care of him. pairing: sub!steve harrington / f!reader word count: 5.6k warnings: sub!steve, brief use of a mommy kink, r calls steve daddy like twice i think, mention of a breeding kink, 18+ mdni (ignore any typos, i am way too tired to proofread <3) a/n: hi, it's me again, turning a blurb request into a full length fic. also i can't stop writing for sub steve apparently. all i can say is baby girl is baby girlin real hard in this one lol thanks so much for your request! enjoy xoxo

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

It’s sunset by the time his shift at Scoops concludes. He serves the last few remaining customers while Robin less than kindly ushers out the loitering teenagers that have stuck around all day. 

A group of moms clad in vividly colored spandex tells him “we’re being bad today” like some sort of mantra that makes them feel better about ordering plain vanilla ice cream. Some middle school aged girls with a mouthful of braces, crimped hair in pigtails, and absolutely wreaking of fruity perfume and daddy’s money try helplessly to flirt with him while they use a matte black card to purchase a banana boat sundae.

His last customers of the night are an old married couple, all gray and wrinkly and smiling like life’s still so new to them. They order one strawberry cone to share between them and hold onto each other’s shaking, frail hands as they make their exit.

Steve smiles as he watches them go. He sees a lot of you and him in them. He hopes by the time you both are all old and brittle, you’ll still be happy like that, still so in love.

Working in the downstairs abyss of Starcourt makes him feel crazy sometimes. With no windows and only manufactured fluorescent lighting for ten hours straight, it makes time feel less and less real.

Sometimes he’ll be in before sun out and cower like some sort of vampire when his shift is over. Other times, he’ll come out when it’s pouring down rain and be absolutely baffled at the sight of it because it was perfectly sunny when his shift started.

Everything else but ice cream all but ceases to exist in the hole of Scoops Ahoy — weather, time, life.

Even though it’s closing when he leaves, Steve doesn’t realize how dark it’s gotten outside until he’s walking through the desolate parking lot to his car. The bustling mall has fallen asleep with the rest of the town. The sky has long turned to a navy velvet, the stars and full moon bright white silk. 

It makes his limbs heavy and his eyelids heavier as his tired bones ache for rest.

Steve makes the longer drive out to the cabin rather than his own home to see you. Hopper’s out for some conference which means El gets to spend every ounce of her time at the Wheeler’s and you and Steve get to play house. 

He doesn’t bother to knock before he comes in. He shuffles through the entrance like his feet are made of lead and leans his weight against the door after he clicks it closed.

The sound of his arrival gets your attention from where you scurry around the kitchen. A smile pulls slowly at your face as you turn over your shoulder to look at him, placing a cover over a pot of something that smells like your infamous chicken alfredo.

“Hey, Stevie,” you greet with a beam and a sort of sunshine in your voice that Steve’s been missing all day.

His body relaxes for the first time since he got up this morning at the sight of you, freshly showered and in your pajamas for the night — an oversized t-shirt that definitely didn’t belong to you before, because it used to be his.

You look more like home than any four walls could ever be to him.

Steve tries his best to give you a smile in return, but it’s weighed down by fatigue and not all there.

You can see it all over him, every ounce of exhaustion on his lax and tired features. Slinging ice cream for less than grateful customers for ten hours straight has taken an obvious toll on him. The bright blue sailor’s uniform makes him look more boyish, but no less tired — or hot.

Your heart swells at how cozy he looks, fatigued and warmed and in dire need of being taken care of. It makes you glad that you started dinner earlier than normal, even happier that you’ve got the house to yourselves.

You exit the kitchen and walk the short distance to him, taking his scruffy cheeks in your palms and rubbing your thumbs against his cheeks.

“Hard day?” you wonder softly and smile to himself when you feel Steve nestle further into your touch.

The boy hums lowly in reply — neither a yes or a no, but a short hmph that means he doesn’t want to talk about it now. He doesn’t like thinking about work when you’re in his arms and all over him. He’d rather pretend like you’re the only thing that exists and let the rest of the world slip slowly away.

He turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrists. You smell like lavender, he finds, and it makes him that much more tired and needy for you.

His hands settle on your arms, fingers wrapping themselves just below your wrists. “Just tired,” he answers finally. “How was your day?”

“Better than yours, I’m assuming,” you quip with a smile. Your hands drag from his face, down the tense columns of his neck, and settle at the white lapel of his uniform. Steve lets you pull him down by his red neckerchief until his lips press against yours, the pillows of them far cozier than the bed and blanket he so craves right now.

He grows somehow heavier against you. He exhales deeply through his nose as his aching muscles start to relax, the warmth of it brushes against your cupid’s bow. His hands fall to your back and ball into your shirt as he clutches so ardently onto you, as though terrified he might have to go another agonizing ten hours without you.

Your smile contorts against his mouth. A laugh exhales sharply through your nose at this tired boy, exhausted and too willing to let you swallow him whole.

As much as you want to take care of you him, you want him to get a little food in his belly and fresh clothes on his skin.

He’s got freshly laundered cottons sitting in a drawer you cleaned out in your room especially for him and a pot of his favorite food simmering on the stove. He’ll be golden in an hour or more and you’ll happily take care of him then.

Steve whines when you pull away from him. The pathetic sound bubbles from his throat and his face screws up like you’ve actually pained him by not kissing him more. He ducks down, looming over you, as his lips chase yours.

You giggle at him, letting him kiss you — one, two, three quick pecks and a fourth sweeter, more drawn-out one he presses against you as the two of you stumble back into the living room.

“You need to eat first, okay?” you protest when you part from him again, lips clicking wetly as they separate. “You probably haven’t had anything all day.”

“I had half a banana in the break room at lunch,” he retorts, half-heartedly.

“Exactly,” you scold. “Go get changed and then we can eat, ‘kay?”

“If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you could’ve just said.”

You roll your eyes at him and how he’s still so sly despite being so damn tired. You push playfully against his chest and squirm out from under where he’d cornered you between his body and the back of the couch. “You smell like a sundae and cheap cologne—”

“Blame those assholes from Abercrombie.”

“—hit the showers, Harrington,” you tell him with a playful sternness, swatting him on the ass as you pass by him.

The action stopped surprising him a long time ago. He’d complained relentlessly about corporate and the stupid outfit they made him wear to work every morning until he realized how much you liked it. 

After that, Steve figured he could put up with the itching and the chaffing and the weird stares from other mall-goers. As long as it meant you being unable to keep your hands off of him, dropping to your knees in front of him before he left for work, visiting him at lunch because you just had to see him again.

“You comin’ too, or…?” he jokes in reply, already inching towards the bathroom, but secretly hoping you’ll say yes.

You refuse to amuse him, though, and instead tell him that you have to keep stirring the pasta so it won’t burn. He’s too tired and too excited to wash all the muck of the long workday from his body to beg.

You knew just what he needed — like you always do. He’s as good as gold by the time he gets out of the shower, smelling of your shampoo and practically glittering at how good he feels.

His skin gets to breathe for the first time all day when he slips on a pair of boxers and a faded forest green Hawkins High sweatshirt. They’re freshly washed. He can tell by how soft they feel and the way they smell of fresh detergent. 

It makes his heart swell. 

While he’s been slinging ice cream and questioning all of his life choices, you’ve been washing his clothes, folding them and putting the in their own drawer in your dresser. You’ve been cooking him his favorite dinner, knowing he hasn’t eaten all day, because you know everything about him. 

You do it all because you love him. You don’t have to think twice about it before you so effortlessly take care of him.

He swears you’ll feed him if he begs hard enough, but Steve hasn’t reached that level of tiredness yet. He does, however, force you to sit halfway in his lap while the both of you opt to eat on the couch in the living room rather than the kitchen table.

A repeat of Miami Vice plays on the tiny television across the room and you tell him about what you’d done on your day off in between shoveling forkfuls of pasta into your mouth with your legs slung into his lap.

Most of it was spent taking care of chores, a feat made harder without Hopper and El to take on the extra workloads but easier because their absence meant less shit to get done. 

You drove Dustin and Lucas to the Wheeler’s house later that morning, then doubled back across Hawkins when Max called and all but begged you to free her from the hellscape on Cherry Lane, as she so lovingly put it. You picked her up and dropped her off with the rest of her friends.

And even though they all swore they had rides back home, they’d called again some hours later and asked too sweetly if you could take them back across town.

You complain and grumble about it, but you do it for them anyway.

Because you take care of people. That’s just what you do.

“So you were a personal chauffeur for a bunch of kids all day?” Steve jokes and laughs to himself as he swipes a smudge of alfredo sauce from your chin with his thumb

“Basically,” you nod in reply.

When that’s all done — and the episode is over and the dishes are in the sink and your teeth are freshly brushed — you tell Steve to get into bed, and then to get his head out of the gutter at the look he gives you after.

He’s pleasantly surprised when you bring a whole basket of things from the bathroom and into your bedroom. He watches silently, obediently, as you light a candle on the far side of the room before climbing into bed beside him.

“Scoot down a little,” you tell him. “And take off your shirt.”

He does it all without question. He rises, strips himself of his top, and tosses the thing mindlessly on the floor beside the bed. With his lean torso and bare chest on display, spotted with tufts of chestnut-colored hair and smelling of your body wash, he lazes back onto the bed again with his head on the pillows.

Steve holds his breathe when you straddle his chest.

“Comfy?” you ask him quietly.

He can only nod in response.

His eyes are wide, twinkling with love and curiosity. It makes you smile. He’s always so soft in his way, so compliant with you — and, fuck, if you don’t love how he looks when he’s underneath you.

You lean down to press a chaste kiss to the chiseled tip of his nose then reach for one of the many bottles stacked inside the wicker basket. You drip the rose-scented liquid onto a cottonpad and tell him that it’s cleanser.

“I thought I was already clean?” he retorts.

“Well, this shit is gonna make ya glow like a baby, Harrington,” you tell him and swipe the stuff up and down his face — across his forehead, along his nose, and around his stubbly jaw. “Which means it’s perfect for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Means you’re a baby,” you quip once, then smile lovingly down at him. “My baby,” you correct.

“Damn straight,” he hums with a soft smile, then shuts his eyes when you trade the cleanser for what you call a liquid exfoliator. He doesn’t ask what that means. He doesn’t say much of anything really, because he’s enamored with the way you dote on him.

Your day has been just as busy as his, maybe not as mind-numbing, but still busy. You’ve been bouncing all across town, trying to make sure a bunch of kids weren’t putting themselves in total danger — Steve knows firsthand how hard that can be.

And yet, you keep caring for him, like it’s more important than how tired you must be.

The way you’ve settled on top of him is just a bonus. It’s not as domineering as you usually are in this position, straddling your legs over him and forcing his face between your legs with your fingers tangled in his hair. He wouldn’t have minded if that’s what you’d done in the first place. He would’ve thanked you for it, really.

It’s comforting more than it is anything, the subtle weight of you on top of him, keeping him grounded.

You rub something that feels like lotion into his skin. The tips of your fingers massage his face — they dig softly into his temples, relieving all the strain there, then trace around his curve of his jaw. Steve sighs and melts into your touch. It makes you laugh.

“Look at you,” you giggle, all soft like the moonlight streaming in rays from the windows. Then you tease him. “My baby’s gettin’ all pampered tonight, huh?”

“That stuff smells really good,” he notes. “Think it’s safe enough to taste?”

You know he’s joking, but you flick him in the center of his freshly moisturized forehead anyway, when his tongue darts out the side of his mouth to lick around his lips.

“You’re such an idiot,” you scold with a laugh. “There’s no way we’re gonna be able to have a kid if you keep acting like one, Steve Harrington.”

The boy's eyes fly open. “…A kid?” he repeats in something short of a whisper.

You only hum in reply with a little shrug like you’re trying to play it all off. Like you didn’t just drop the biggest bomb on him and left him to pick up the pieces. Like it isn't the sweetest goddamn thing he’s ever heard in his life (even though you are sort of making fun of him).

“You want a kid with me?” he presses, eyes sparkling and full of hope.

“‘Course I do,” you shrug again, focusing on capping the moisturizer and putting it away rather than meeting his intense gaze. “Want anything and everything with you, Stevie.”

The boy doesn’t bother to hide the grin your words put on his face. He’s all but beaming from where he lays beneath you, trying to make sure he’s still breathing because his heart has started to flutter something fierce.

It was something the two of you only ever talked about in passing — usually him bringing up the idea of having kids and you swatting them all down.

“We’re too young,” you tell him. “We’re too broke”, “we’re too dumb.” The occasional “my dad is literally in the next room, he’ll kill you if he hears you talking like that” shuts him up real quick.

But here you are now, telling him you want a baby with him, that you want everything with him. It drives him absolutely insane.

“Yeah?” he hums in response, idle hands rising and settling upon your bare thighs, rubbing at the smooth skin there, petting you almost. The room gets suddenly and unbearably hot with the look he gives you, innocent and knowing and hungry.

You feel him shift from underneath you, the hardening cock in his boxers making it hard to stay as comfortable as he had been.

“You wanna be a mommy, honey?” he all but coos. “Wanna take care of our kids like you take care of me?”

Though his words set a fire in the pit of your stomach, the tone of them makes you roll your eyes. It’s like flipping a light switch when it comes to Steve. It takes next to nothing to turn him into a puddle of mush.

He’s always raring to go when it comes to you, and you’d be lying if you said it was totally invigorating. 

“What happened to my sweet, sleepy, baby Stevie, huh?” you tease, hands leaving his face to caress the ones he’s got resting on your thighs. “Thought you were too tired?”

He shakes his head defiantly. “Never too tired for you.” 

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you scold with bubbly laughter when you feel his large hands trail up your legs. His finger falls beneath your shirt, the tips of them sneaking into the rounded hems of your underwear, all but cupping your ass to drag you further up his chest.

He’s practically salivating at the mere thought of tasting you. Of knowing that the only thing separating you from him is a couple of inches and the thin fabric of your underwear.

He knows that when he slides them to the side, you’ll be wet and needing him underneath, slick enough for his tongue to slip right in.

And, truth be told, oral sex wasn’t the easiest when you weren’t alone. It was too precarious of a position. If Hopper knocked on the door and barged in hardly a moment later, you needed to break away quickly.

So when your dad and little sister were home, it was easier to use your hands to get each other off. And, maybe, if Steve was real good, you’d let him fuck you.

But his mouth on you? There wasn’t enough good he could be for you to let him do that, not when your father was on the other side of the door in the living room. Because you’re pretty sure death would be easier than your dad catching Steve Harrington giving cunnilingus to his daughter. You’re pretty sure you’d die on the spot, anyway.

But Hopper is miles away. Your sister is on the other side of town. And you’re alone with your boyfriend, hidden away in a cabin in the middle of the woods. It’s the perfect recipe for the best sex of your life.

“Don’t care,” Steve murmurs, pressing kisses to the inner parts of your thigh when he settles you more intently over his shoulders. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah?” you croon. From below you, the boy notes the arched brow and knowing glint in your eye that usually means trouble. “Daddy wants to make mommy feel good, huh?”

Steve knows exactly why you said it. Why you chose to say it like that. It’s the same reason you brought up the kid thing in the first place. Because you knew it would drive him crazy.

And it’s not like you ever had to try to make him mental, all you really had to do was walk into a room and he was done for. But you didn’t just want to just make him go insane, you wanted to ruin him. 

And you know you’ve done just that when a groan spills from his mouth and two strong hands dig rather ruthlessly into your hips. He pulls you down without warning, pressing your clothed pussy closer to his face and dragging his nose between your covered lips. A moan leaves your mouth in a heavy exhale when the tip of it nudges your clit.

“Like being called daddy, huh?” you tease through bated breaths.

Steve nods in reply as he hooks a finger through the hem of your panties and slides them to the side, putting your pretty, glistening pussy on display for him.

He was right about what he said before — you were soaked. 

All but drunk on the sight of you, he presses open-mouthed kisses to your inner thigh. “Like the other thing, too,” he mumbles against your skin, like he’s hiding himself there.

“The other thing?” you question with pinched brows. The confusion ebbs like a rolling tide as you realize: “Oh. You wanna call me mommy, Stevie?” you ask with a joking lilt.

“Shut up,” he groans against you.

He’s pleasantly surprised when your hand grabs the strands of his hair like reigns, pulling him back just before he puts his mouth on your pussy. He’s even more stunned at the stern expression taking over your features, not nearly as playful as you’d been moments before.

Suddenly you’re ten feet tall, and he’s nothing more than an ant, at the mercy of your boot.

“That’s no way to talk to your mommy, is it, Stevie?” 

He shakes his head with glazed over eyes. “Sorry.”

“Sorry… what?”

There is an underlying tone in your voice, something teasing and yet somehow serious all at once. It’d make him roll his eyes if he weren’t lying beneath you like this. Now, with your pussy mere inches from his face, he isn’t quite sure how to be anything but obedient.

“Sorry, mommy,” he corrects.

A flip switches and you’re smiling again. “Good boy,” you praise and it makes his cock twitch in the confines of his boxers. Your hand guides him to your pussy again.

Steve’s always been good at oral. A little too good, actually. It made you jealous sometimes, to know that his technique has been perfected over years of experience.

“All the other girls were just practice for you, honey,” he’d soothe your seething rage with a wink and a tongue shoved deep into your cunt.

You believe him now, that every other girl was just an obstacle for him to get to you, because no one’s had him like this. No one will ever have him like this.

You’re the one who’s got him on his back with his mouth on your pussy. You’re the one who’s got him calling you mommy.

And it makes you feel like a fucking giant.

He wastes little time to envelope your cunt with his mouth. You feel the muffled grunt he lets out at the tangy and familiar taste of you. His tongue pushes into your cunt, licking you with the intent of devouring you entirely. His nose presses intently against your clit, prodding the little button as you ride his face. He encourages every thrust, guiding your hips up and down his mouth.

“Fuck, Stevie,” you whine and feel him smile drunkenly against your pussy, never ceasing his assault against your sensitive skin.

Your head falls back, suddenly too heavy to hold up. Your gaze settles on the ceiling, though you’re not exactly looking at it, and moans fall from your open mouth and into the heavy air — billowing laments in the moonlight.

“You make me feel so good,” you murmur to yourself, but to him especially, knowing he turns into a ticking time bomb when he’s praised. “Always make mommy feel so fucking good, baby.”

He groans against you, and it makes your hips twitch over his face.

Your head turns and your glazed over eyes fall on the hard cock trapped in his underwear. It’s more than apparent against the thin fabric with a wet patch of precum darkening the plaid cotton. The sight of it, paired with his lips wrapped around your clit, makes you moan most pitifully.

“Fuck, Steve,” you cry. “You’re gonna make me come. Holy shit, baby— gonna come so hard in your mouth.” The promise makes Steve double his efforts against you, wanting nothing more than to taste every drop you can give him. “I’ll ride you after, 'kay? Make you come so hard you can’t see straight. Fuck. I’m so fucking close.”

You figure his muffled whine is an affirmative.

“If you make me come now, maybe I’ll let you come inside me—”

You barely get to finish your sentence before Steve’s wrapping his arms around your thighs and keeping you pressed against his face. His tongue works overtime inside of your cunt, attentively flicking against every part of your velvet walls that it can reach, while his nose nudges your clit most relentlessly.

It has you reaching your climax within seconds, hips jerking against him while his hold on you tightens. Steve only lets you go when he’s certain you’ve ridden out every inch of your orgasm.

You’re shaking and half-numb when you unfold your body from his and settle next to him on the bed. You press yourself over him as your lips swallow his, tasting yourself on his mouth that glistens with you.

Your torso is splayed over his bare one, knees digging into the mattress at his side as you arch your back to push yourself further into him.

“Was that good for you?” he mutters after you’ve pulled away, sliding the tip of your nose up and down the bridge of his.

A laugh escapes you in a sharp scoff. If he couldn’t have felt how good it was for you — after you all but writhed against him — surely he must’ve tasted it dripping like honey from your cunt.

“It’s always good,” you assure him, then murmur more quietly, “Always so good for mommy.”

You keep the promise you’d made him no more than minutes beforehand. You pull down his boxers at the same time he’s trying to get you out of your shirt, and it’s just a mess of yearning limbs until the both of you are naked.

You rub yourself over his cock a few times, getting it all slick with you in the place of lube, because you know taking him is never an easy feat. The stretch of his dick inside you is always delicious but fuck if it doesn’t burn. It’s like fire in every sense of the word, hot and filthy paired with a distant ache.

Steve lets you set the pace as you get used to his length nestled deep inside your velvet. His hands rest compliantly on your hips as you grind against him, honeyed gaze fixed on your fucked out features as you take him — brows pinched, eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Then, when every inch of him is snug in your cunt and your senses return to you, you deny him of his want to touch you. Your fingers wrap around his wrists and push them into the pillow on either side of his head. “Mommy didn’t say you could touch her, did she?” you purr to him as you lean over him. He shakes his head obediently, if only it meant that you kept fucking yourself on top of him.

And you do. Most ardently.

You keep your bare chest pressed against his fuzzy one, nose-to-nose as you slide your hips over his. And even though he’s had you like this before (in this position and many others), it feels brand new every time. It’s like he’s never felt you before despite how familiar you feel.

It triggers his body into a sense of fight of flight, as though frightened he’ll never get to have you again. It leaves him fucking you like it’ll be the last time he’s inside you, every fucking time.

It never is, though — obviously. Most times he only has to wait a couple minutes or more before he gets to take you again.

But now, with his hands balled into fists beside his head and your’s braced on his chest, digging into the patch of hair there as you rock back and forth on his hard cock — the tip of it nestled deep inside of you and hitting every sweet spot that makes you keen — has left him an absolute wreck beneath you. 

He’s chasing his pleasure like he’s never felt it before. Like he won’t feel it again.

“Your cock feels so good, Stevie,” you moan above him.

“‘M not gonna last long, baby,” he mutters between harsh and labored pants.

“’S okay… I want you to come,” you promise and press a too sweet kiss to his swollen, pink lips. You move your hips more intently over him. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills your bedroom. “Want you to fill me up.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out in something short of a whimper. His eyes are glassy and his brows are furrowed and it takes everything in him not to fuck up into you — because he wants to be good, he wants to be good for you. 

“Yeah… Want you come in me… Fuck me until it takes,” you babble over top of him, knowing exactly what it’s doing to the whining boy beneath you. “Wanna give you a baby— fuck— I wanna make you a daddy, Stevie.”

A whine spills from his throat. His toes curl into the fabric of your comforter, eyes rolling back into his head, body tensing as he digs his fingers into the skin of his palms that still ache to touch you.

Your name spills from his mouth along with a string of curses and pretty little cries when he stuffs you full of his come.

You happily accept every load he shoots into you as work him through every aftershock of his orgasm. Yours doesn’t come so easy — you roll your hips over yourself and rub your clit until you’re twitching right along with him. 

You come down from your highs together with a tender softness. You lay over him, one hand combing through his curls and the other stroking softly at his sweat-slicked bicep. You watch with heavy eyes as his orgasm rolls over him. 

His chest rises and falls with every heavy breath, stuttering when another pang of pleasure hits him all of a sudden. “Fuck,” he whines harshly into the heavy air.

He’s happy you don’t deny him when his arms wrap around your waist, hands rubbing up and down the expanse of your slick back.

You press tiny kisses to his face as he comes down — his nose, his cheeks, his forehead his stubbly chin and jaw. You press one, two, three pecks to his lips before you slide off of him, then laugh when he whines.

You’re gone for hardly more than three minutes, but to Steve, it feels like an eternity’s gone by.

You return from the bathroom, wiped freshly clean, and blow out the nearly burnt-out candle on your dresser before you slither back into his side. One of his arms curls beneath your shoulders to pull you closer to him with his other rests on the back of yours that’s settled on his chest.

You share one pillow, noses inches away from one another’s, while you bask in the warm moment and the sex-coated air around you before you have to break it.

“You know I’m still on the pill, right?” you ask him.

He nods.

“And that we’re—”

“Way too young to have a kid right now?” he finishes for you, though the idea makes him sad. He nods.

“Yeah… And—”

“Too broke? I know that too.”

“Also my—”

“Your dad would kill me if I got you pregnant?”

It makes you laugh. You hadn’t realized you’d talked about having kids this many times — at least, not enough for him to memorize all the reasons why it’s not the best idea right now.

“Yeah, I know it’s not happening any time soon,” Steve says with a sigh. “I like to pretend, though. Plus, it’s not even about that to me, you know? I just… I just like being with you and… everything.”

Everything, you repeat to yourself. A word that means so much and nothing at all.

No one knows what everything means, they just know that it’s a lot, a whole lot. That’s what makes it so special. Steve wants it all with you — the overbearing dad, the sister with powers, the teenage kids who never let you have a single second to yourselves when they’re around. 

It’s a lot sometimes, most times, but he’ll weather it all with you.

“You like being with me?” you echo just to see him nod.

He does. “I love being with you,” he corrects.

“Love calling me mommy, too, huh?”

He realizes then, the sincere moment was just a set-up for that stupid joke. He groans and flops his head back on the pillow, but makes no move to distance himself from you.

“Oh, my god,” he moans in annoyance. “Am I gonna have to deal with this the rest of my life?”

You nod. “Sorry, Harrington, but I’m never letting that shit go.”

Good, he thinks to himself, even though he pretends to hate it because it makes you laugh. He never wants you to stop.

[atxxokirina]

Request: Being ronals girlfriend but neytiri having a dark obsession over reader.

Mommies Girl (18+, MDNI)

✮ Neytiri x Fem Reader ✮

contains: cheating, scissoring/tribbing, fingering, yandere neytiri, fdom neytiri, mommy kink, mention of mvrder, slight choking, pls lmk if i missed anything.

na'vi dictionary - yawntutsyìp = darling, loved one (yawn tut syip)

˙⁠ ❥⁠˙

Ever since you became Ronal's girlfriend, you felt eyes everywhere. Of course that was to be expected with you dating the Tsahík, but lately, you'd been sensing an extra pair burning a hole through you. Not to mention you've gained a.. stalker? More like a secret admirer. You would tend to find small gifts placed in your hut. Necklaces, bracelets that consisted of your favorite colors, and even handmade tops.

But the most odd "gift" you received from this person was their strands of hair.

No, not just a strand, an entire chunk of it.

And each time you'd look around to figure out who, or what it was, the feeling disappeared. "Yawntutsyìp, is everything alright?" Ronal snaps you from your thoughts, rubbing a soft hand on your back. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry." You flash a pained smile as she nodded, going back to eating. You sat in the common square, surrounded by the village as they all ate their supper. As Ronal conversed with those around her, you poked around at your food, appetite completely lost.

Unknown to you, your ex girlfriend was the one who's been creeping on you. She found amusement in this, knowing that you're indirectly looking for her. Your relationship together may have been over, but her undying love for you surely wasn't. She sometimes thought about killing Ronal, imagining how she'd execute it, and how you would come running back to her after. As she stares at you from behind, a she feels the urge to do exactly what she's been wishing for since you'd gotten with Ronal. Easy access. All she had to do was stick her blade into her spine and—

Stop. Getting too carried away.

Neytiri reaches for the small note she wrote for you, standing from her seat, "accidently" dropping it in your lap, walking away. You felt a thin leaf land into your lap. Your brows furrow in confusion, checking your sides to see who could have dropped it. You unfold the light emerald colored leaf, reading something written in black ink.

Ultxa si piak säpi pum txal pxiut.

Meet by the back palm tree.

"Hm." You quietly hum, still eyeing the note. "I'll be back soon." You tell your girlfriend, but doubt she heard you. Sighing, you stood up. Making your way to the desolate bunch of palm trees. The sky was dark and the saplings stood tall. You'd be terrified to be here alone if you didn't know any better. "Um, hello? Is someone here?" You call out. After a few moments when no one answers, you grew impatient. Just as you huff and begin leave the area, you feel a rough tug on your hair. "Ow! What the-" You yelped, pulling back from the source and turning your body. Your eyebrows furrow at what you see, body hot. "Neytiri..?" You scoff. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Your tone becomes aggressive and cold.

A shit faced smirk forms on Neytiri's face. "The fuck is so funny?" You scoff, face dropping in disbelief. She softly frowns, stepping closer to you and cupping your cheek in her palms. "Hi, baby.." She sighs, tracing her finger down your body. "Oh, I missed you so much." You looked up at her, eyes filled with daze. "H-Have you been, stalking me?" You ask quietly, swallowing back a gulp.

"I wouldn't call it stalking. Just.. random acts of love, hm?" She cocks her head toward you, now running her fingers through your hair, which turns into her pulling your head to her face, crashing her lips into yours. She wastes no time as her tongue slithered it's way into your mouth. You gasp at the sudden kiss, eyes widening as you're pulled into her. As your mouths meet, a wave of shock and arousal washes over you. This is wrong. Fuck, so wrong.

You weakly attempt to push Neytiri away, feeling her smirk against your lips as her arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer. The heat rises in your bodies as the two of you moan into the kiss. She walks you back into a tree, breaking the kiss and pushing you down onto the soft moss beneath you. You lay back on your elbows, wiping your mouth from her saliva. She gazes down at you, untying her top and, dropping to your level. She spits on your tummy, sliding her tongue upward, stopping in between your breasts. A small part of you felt hesitant to go through with this, yet you were still having trouble controlling the desire you had for her, considering your past together.

"Neytiri, we shouldn't-" You say with a whimper as she brings a hand up to your tits, circling a finger around your nipples and snaking her tongue upward. Squeezing your eyes shut, you held back a moan, but not for long. The second she began grinding her clothed pussy against yours, you lost control. Bucking your hips up as you pull her closer to you. "There's my dirty girl," She hums, now opening your wet folds and toying with your clit. Neytiri reaches behind her, unraveling the loincloth from around her excited tail and pulling it down. She gives your cunt one last touch, licking your slickness off of her fingers as she sat up. She glances down at your middle, "Take this off for mommy, hm?" Without hesitation, you're sliding the flimsly loincloth down. She smiles, licking her fangs and parting your thighs open, climbing on top of you.

You let out a jagged moan as your clits meet with each other. "Oh fuck.." Your lower muscles contract. "Did you miss me?" She whispers in your ear teasingly, grinding herself on your cunt leans down, pinning your wrists back. "Hm? Tell me baby. Tell me how much you've missed me." She lets out a soft, guttural moan. You mewled, eyes shifting down to where your two bodies meet, the sensation of your juices mixing together causing the woods to fill with low, wet sounds, along with your moans syncing together. "Say it." She snaps her hips, slowing down before coming to a halt. "Say it, or else I'll stop."

You frantically nod. "Y-Yes, yes I missed you.. fuck, please don't stop." You cry out in a low whine. Voice almost filled with shame. You wanted to feel terrible about cheating on Ronal, but you just couldn't. Not right now.

Neytiri inches her face to yours, leaving soft, wet kisses around your glowing freckles. "Gooood girl.." Before going back to humping your cunt, she finds your breasts, scissoring the nub with both of her fingers. You back arches at the matching pleasure, clit growing sensitive as well as your nipples. The sensation of your juices mixing only made you crave more of her. You loved the way she settled and bounced on you. Each rub sent a jolt of electricity throughout your body. "I missed you s-so much mommy," You moan again, forcing your eyes open as you grind your clit along hers.

"Yeah, I know you did." She wraps a hand around your neck, squeezing your airways before slamming you down. "And you know why you missed me?" She began to lick stripes up your neck, leaving marks that will definitely be visible later. "Because you're a slut. You're a fucking slut, yeah? Tell mommy how much you couldn't resist her." You could feel her pussy growing needier, as was yours. Your heart rate increasing. So, so, close to cumming. "I-I wanna cum mommy! Please, please let me cum," you whimper. "No. You're not cumming until you tell me what I wanna hear." She teased, leaning down to your ear, fucking you faster as her moans fill up your lobe. "Tell me you love me." She simply whispers, earning a strained moan from you. "No.. I love Ronal, I can't-" She pushes you down again, lowly growling. "You love her, huh? But you're letting me fuck you? That's some love." She snarles. The pressure was building inside of you. Any word you said came out as incoherent babbles and pleads. "So pathetic.. look at you coming undone for me. Bet that bitch couldn't do this to you, huh?"

"I'm gonna cum soon, and you're gonna do exactly what I said, aren't you?" Neytiri's clit against yours is now slowing down, a more sensual, needy pace. "Yes mommy.." You breathe out, tears rolling down your cheeks from the edging. "I love you, I love you so fucking much.. please, I wanna- I wanna cum so bad!" You whimper, attempting to speed her hips, but to no avail. "Mmmmm, that's mommy girl." She smirks in satisfaction, bouncing against your clit to get you there again.

You're close. So close. Just need one more push, one more thrust. "Cum. Cum for me now." You wasted no time. The tightening coil in your stomach began to unravel, a feeling of bliss that only she could get you to. The two of you moaning in unison is sweet music to your ears. You let out a loud, and long moan, limbs shaking and toes curling. As your high came down, the two of you pant. She crawls off of you, leaving another kiss on your nose. "You know you'll always be mommy's favorite girl, won't you?" You flutter your eyes open, weakly nodding with a whine. "Yes.." You say below a breath. "Mm, I know you will. And I'll always be better than the next one." She stands from her position, finding her loincloth and slipping it back on. "Think of me whenever you fuck your girlfriend, or the next time you try tell her you love her."

taglist: @pandorxxx @sweethoneycn @neytirishottie @sullybrosimp @tsireyafavgirl @teyamsbitch @encephalitis-on-sundays @sassypain @neon-groves @rosyjn

[scandinavianfairytale]

Doubt

Pairing: Tony Stark x Millionare Reader

Warnings: A few mentions of sex, but no act itself and a small age gap (7 years) between the reader & Tony 😊

"I think you two would be great together. He works a lot, you work a lot, he's rich, you're rich, he's a nerd, you're a nerd-"

"I get it, Pepper." You stopped your friend who has been trying to set you up with her boss for a few weeks now. She has seen you go through so many boring men that you were rolling your eyes immediately after someone offered a date to you. Experience taught you it will be a dumpster fire.

The last one turned out to be homophobic, ignorant and went into detail how his Christian ex-girlfriend was into public sex. As you listened to him you wondered if it wouldn't have been easier for you to just stay single. So you deleted all the apps and decided that you won't be going on any more dates any time soon.

And now Pepper has been pestering you about her boss.

Tony Stark.

In all honesty, a date with him worried you. He was a billionare, while you just made your first million, and you came from a humble home, still feeling weird and queasy when attending anything remotely fancy. The thought of dating a rich old(er) man confused you. There was a 7 year age gap, which doesn't seem much, but you've been dating guys your own age your entire life. And none of them could've ever imagined being as rich as you. Let alone as Tony Stark.

"Just go out on a date. I'm not asking you to marry him." Pepper pressed. Tony has been driving her insane, working at all hours, meaning that she was also working insane hours. So she figured...maybe if Tony gets a girlfriend, he'll sleep once in a while. And who would be better suited for him than her sharp-tongued and a newly turned millionare friend who was into robots almost as much as he was.

She has been trying for weeks to get you to agree. She didn't worry that much about Tony. If she was to mention a woman, he was on that subject immediately, requesting a date.

You, on the other hand, with your string of very bad dates...you were the tough cookie.

"One date." You stated.

"One date. If you like him, more dates, but for now let's go with one." Pepper smiled.

And then Natasha got involved. The sensual, no holding back friend that also knew Tony was "tasked" with your make-over. Not like in the movies make-over, the kind where she went through your closet and told you what to wear. She pulled out the black dress that was reserved for fancy dinners. Not a first date.

"He's a man. Not like the boys that you have been going out with. You need to pique his interest and you're not going to achieve that wearing those disgusting jeans." Natasha commented as she glanced at the jeans that you were wearing at that moment.

"He's dubbed as the playboy." You conutered.

"That's because playman doesn't exsist. Now go change."

As it turned out, the first date was actually really good. You actually had a good time. Tony picked you up himself and you went to a new art exhibition at the Met, followed by a dinner and a ride home. As you were about to exit his car, Tony took your hand and kissed the back of it.

"Thank you for the lovely time." He said with a smirk.

"Thank you as well. But please, let me get the next one." You smiled back as he let go of your hand.

"Deal. I do hope you forget that you promised to pick the tab."

"I don't forget things, Tony." You smiled before wishing him a good night.

As the weeks went on, you met with him several times. It was always interesting and you spent hours talking and he even made you laugh. You could feel hope and contentment bloom in your chest. That little anticipation whenever he called or texted.

And then it all came crashing down. You noticing that he started getting cold. He was texting less, no face times were requested. It just died down.

"He's busy with work." Pepper told you over the phone. Tony has been holed up in his lab for days, barely getting out of that room.

It's not like you weren't busy as well. You also had a demanding job and a life outside of it. And you understood the fact that he gets sicked into work, you knew from experience, but this was different. It hurt, because you got your hopes up. That he'd be different. And he was, much different than all other guys, but this time around you might've gotten attached. Which has never happened and it made you mad. Mad at yourself for feeling this, mad at him for doing this to you, mad at everything.

"I don't care how busy he is." You responded.

"Just be patient, he has never taken this much time for a woman before."

"That's because he immediately sleeps with them." You rolled your eyes, pacing around your still empty apartment.

"You still haven't slept with him?" Pepper stopped walking.

"Of course not."

"What do you mean of course not?"

"We barely spent 18 hours all together." Saying that aloud made your blood boil. How the hell were you feeling this way after 18 hours.

"You talk everyday, what do you mean it's been 18 hours? And so what?"

"I don't sleep with men I don't know. And if this is how he acts in everyday life, I think it's better I stop seeing him altogether."

"If you gave him a reason to continue trying it'd be for the best."

"If he's not interested in me with what he already knows, sleeping with me is not going to pique his interest. I'm done, Pepper. I'm not the type to sit at home and wait for a man's text. I don't care what his profession or reason is. This isn't me, nor is this my style."

You hung up the phone and angrily stared at the blank walls and the pile of boxes waiting for you to unpack them.

I can't believe that I'm feeling bad because of a man. You groaned before taking off your jumper and started unpacking. You put your phone on silent and threw it in the bedroom, away from your reach. You noticed how much it put you in a bad mood when you saw 0 messages from Tony.

It must've been a couple of hours when the doorbell broke your concentration. You made significant progress as almost all the boxes have been unpacked. In all honesty, you were mildly annoyed that you were abruptly taken out of your flow state as only 2 boxes remained.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Tony asked as you opened your front door, getting startled as you saw him standing there.

"What are you doing here?"

"You were not taking my calls. Can I come in?" He didn't wait for your answer and entered your apartment.

"I've been unpacking. And also that's rich coming from the man that has been steadily ignoring me for the past two weeks." You rolled your eyes.

Tony started opening your kitchen cabinets, looking through them. "Do you have any coffee? I could use a cup about now."

"You're not staying that long. And my coffee would be wasted on you." You snatched your speciality coffee from his hands.

"Why are you angry?"

"Because you showed up at my door, entered my apartment without my permission, and are now snopping around my personal things."

"You were angry before that." Tony pointed out and leaned on the windowsill.

"I was annoyed. Now I'm angry and annoyed." You glared at him.

"Okay. Why were you annoyed?"

"Because I feel like you're playing games." You confronted him.

"Regarding?"

"Me."

"I'm not playing games. At least not that I know of. Do you want to play?" Tony smirked and winked at you, making you roll your eyes. "Can you tell me what's got you upset?" He crossed his arms.

"It's been two weeks since we spoke. And then you show up at my place, accusing me of ignoring you."

"I was busy at the lab."

"I understand. I get how quickly you can get sucked up in work, I've been there. But I've never ignored someone I was interested in. A clear deduction from that is that you're not interested in me. Which is fine, but then you don't get to show up at my place, demanding attention. You don't get to act hot and cold and expect me to go along with it. I have an ego too. And also you pride yourself with being direct however you love playing games. There are hundreds of women who would love to play games with you, but I'm not one of them. I take no pride in becoming one of the notches on your belt."

"Great speech, a couple of things, though, if I may correct you." Tony straightened and walked towards you slowly. "I am interested in you. That's a given. How could I not be? Secondly I am direct and as such I can tell you right now that the reason why I was holed up in the lab for two weeks with no contact was because I needed to finish something before focusing on you. I want to spend more time with you. Take a trip or two." He paused for a second. "And have sex with you."

You let out a snort, feeling your face heat up slightly.

"Lots of sex." He was standing right in front of you, staring into your eyes. It made you insanely nervous, making your skin crawl, but in a good way (?).

"You made your point." You found your voicebut you knew it sounded breathless.

"Did I?" Tony asked before tipping your chin up and kissing you.

It was such a good kiss. God, you haven't been kissed this good in such a long time. Your hands pulled at his collar, trying to bring him closer to you, and together, you stumbled backward until his hand extended behind you, slowly pushing you into the kitchen wall and preventing your head colliding with the hard surface.

As you separated to catch a breath, Tony stared at you. "Still doubting my interest?"

"No." You replied firmly before reaching for him again.

Thank you for reading 😊

The GIF doesn't belong to me, belongs to the amazing creator 😊

My first Tony story! 🙌

[vqrtualheartss]

E42 Miles Morales x Black!Fem!Reader! - Across the Multiverse (might change it)

A/n : Soo, this is my first time publishing any of my writings online, although intended to be a oneshot, if all goes well a part two may come by. Feel free to give suggestions, requests, feedback. Next part here 3rd part heree

Warnings : cheating/ profanity, miles (1610) cheating, angst, cursing (only 2 words I think) , implied sexual assault,GWILES,, (not very detailed) harm done to reader

Reader = blue, Miles (1610) = red, Gwen = pink, others = white, may get a colour though

Genre : Angst(?)

I am in no way, shape or form trying to villainize Gwen, everything is just for plot in fact I love Gwiles. My only point of interest is Miles G.

𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷| Every Saturday, my boyfriend -and Brooklyn's infamous Spider-Man- Miles Morales, would sit down and tell me the tea in the Spider-society. I've learnt about his encounters with other spider-people across the spider-verse and his relations with them. It was a silly little tradition but I loved it.

"Yea, so basically, the multiverse is a collection of all the universes there are, including this one. And that cow..villain thing, called The Spot has holes that can drag you anywhere across the multiverse or somewhere different in this one. I'll make sure to beat his ass next time he comes though so I can protect you from it"

I threw the pillow supporting my elbows at him, he webbed it to the wall "Corny ass"

He got up from his seat around the desk walking over to my place on the bed hovering over my frame.

"I don't care if I'm corny, I'll protect and love you in every universe there is, including this one"

We started giggling like little kids as the gap between our bodies closed in, he cradled my face in his hands before our lips met. We froze in the moment for about ten seconds before pulling back.

"I love you so, so much , and I don't ever want you to ever forget that."

He was clingy at times, but oh so adorable

"Ofcourse I know, you like to tell me everyday"

"And I'll never stop telling you"

He pecked my cheek. My hand rested onto his, caressing it

For about what seemed like hours but was just a few seconds we stared into the other's eyes, pure love and admiration in each set.

Who wouldn't fall in love again if someone looked at them like that?

"Even after two years I feel like I still have a crush on you-...Uahhh"

I held onto Miles as everything in the room including us started to levitate. He was more confused than scared since he's used to wierd stuff being Spider-Man and all. What shocked him was the blue.. portal thing that opened up in the ceiling. As it spread more, everything returned to it's position. From it a girl with blond, shoulder length hair and a right side-cut floated down on the bed beside us.

Taking a moment to process the events, Miles launched onto her

"Gwanda!, I missed you so much" huh?

"I missed you too Miles"

I stared at them blankly, separating themselves off each other, he cleared his throat.

"Y/n, this is Gwen, Gwen this is my girlfriend, y/n"

I awkwardly waved to her, to which she did back with almost the same energy. It was like looking at an inverted version of myself. My skin was a medium ebony, hers a snow white, I had coily 4c hair, her's was wavy, not to mention our clothing styles. Polar opposites.

"So why'd you call her Gwanda, and she like that?"

Confused wasn't even the word for me right now. Miles scratched the back of his head, a nervous tactic of his

"It's an inside joke, you wouldn't get it"

I shook my head to his statement. The silence got a bit awkward before she decided to break the ice

"Soo, how's everything since I left?"

Not wanting to disrupt their convo, I started scrolling through my feed

"The worst obviously"

I raised my eyebrows in shock at his confession. "obviously" What's that to mean? I had to bite at the inside of my cheek to stop myself from doing or saying anything irrational. I allowed myself to step out their convo, aimlessly browsing through social media, my focus was deep into my phone. However, my head swiftly moved when I heard their last few sentences

"Let's go patrolling, we still have a lot of catching up to do" Gwen's eyes widened, her blue irises scaring me a bit, they looked quite uncanny

"Does she know that you're-"

"Yeah, she does. You can trust her" Not sure if I can trust you or her right now.

"In that case, yeah, I'd like that"

My face stained with an inquisitive expression, both tones sounded a little too.. flirtatious for my liking, what exactly was so secretive that they had to talk it out in the city? I looked up at both persons as they put their suits on, waiting to see if neither would acknowledge my existence. Nope, they just got suited up and.. left. If there's a word to describe something to be more invisible than invisible then that was definitely how I felt. Not even my boyfriend could say goodbye.. humph

"It can't be that bad, they're just catching up.. yeah"

Trying every and anything to convince myself, I took up my belongings, letting myself outside his room then house. At first, I called out to his parents - "Mama Rio, Tio Jeff?" - hearing no response I left, locking the door using the key I got from Tiá Rio as a reminder that - I'm always welcome - I smiled at the memory.

I tried walking around the city to clear my mind, about halfway through my walk I saw two familiar suits gliding and having their best time in the sky, moving along the roofs of houses. That's some patrolling

Mood ruined, I cut my time short and headed straight home. Unlocking the door, I took my shoes off placing the beside the table. I would usually call out to my parents but they were away on a business trip. After getting some food, I took myself up to my bedroom. Taking a shower and changing into silk shorts and an oversized shirt (sleep clothes). But before heading to the bed I sat around my desk, admiring fairy lights adorned with pictures of Miles and I.. my boyfriend and I. I looked out my window only to see the two leaned against each other, back faced to my vision.

"This is going to end badly isn't it?... Maybe I'm thinking of the worst, he loves me. He wouldn't replace me like that right?" Wrong.

For the next few days it was all about Gwen. Gwen. Gwen. Gwen. Gwen. I felt as if he was dating her

"Wanna go on a date? Just you and me, it'd be fun" "Sorry I'm already with Gwen"

"Bonito, do you still want to go for ice-cream?" "Sorry princess, drawing with Gwen. Can you pick some up though? She loves vanilla."

"Can you buy that plush for me? I'll pay you back." "Sorry, spent all my money on Gwen"

(time-skip)

I tried so. so hard to keep positive, but I just couldn't. I changed, now it was gaslighting myself from crying to crying. "How's this even fair, he's supposed to be my boyfriend.. who is he even dating now" I felt like trash, disposable, he made me feel disposable. I thought I'd have to die before I see this era come. Clearly, I underestimated fate. I felt replaceable, disposable, and, jealous. I had completely let myself go, my eyes were always puffy, hair more tangled than usual, I looked a mess. I finally decided to talk with him, knowing this talk would only end one of two ways: good or bad.

I fixed myself up, it didn't take much really, I combed my hair, putting it in a nice high puff. Wore some cute clothes and that was it. Call me a narcissist, but I knew I was always pretty (bad lil bitch). I stared at my reflection in the mirror, smiling as I admired my features, taking a couple pics too , I finally headed out. My parents were out on another business trip, they always are, giving me another reason to visit the Morales - to visit my second family-.

Arriving at their residence, I knocked to acknowledge the presence of anyone that may be in the house. Miles' mother opened the door

"Tiá Rio! It's so good to see you" she pulled me into a hug before pulling back, both of us smiling

"Likewise mija.. oh dear, what happened? Your face is all sad-looking and-"

Your son is what happened

"it's nothing mama, I've just been tired, that's all"

It warmed my heart at how much she seemed to care for me, assuming she was referring to my puffy eyes I lied. - well that's one thing you can't rid in a day - whilst listening to me, she gestured for me to get inside, closing the door behind me as I took my shoes off

"If it's that boy stressing you out, I'll beat him for you, just let me know" I laughed at her suggestion

"No mama, it's not him, thank you for the offer though" I was still chuckling, then she joined in

"Anything for you. I'll get going though, I have something on the stove to attend to" I shook yes, heading towards his room

"Leave a plate for me?"

"Always " I smiled as I turned focus to Miles' bedroom door. I went in deciding to not knock

I don't even know if I wished I did or not. The scene behind the door was heartbreaking, but I couldn't look away. There he was.. my "boyfriend" kissing Gwen Stacy. He was looking at her with those eyes, the eyes of love he used to look at me with. Both of them looked at me like they've seen a ghost. The expression wasn't too far off, they did make me feel like a ghost, invisible. I shook away any tears starting to form, but my eyelids were like a broken dam, no way or use in controlling it. If anything, I wanted him to see how I felt, to see how much he hurt me, to feel guilt, sadness, anything.

"Cielo, don't cry. It's not what it looks like"

"How long ?" He started to stutter. "How long Miles?"

"2 weeks, listen.. please. We were caught up in a moment and we just-"

"Do you think that's helping?" I felt my words ball up, stuck in my throat, my stomach continuously dropping. It's as if I could feel the sadness in my body. I didn't like it

"No.." I looked over his shoulder, looking at Gwen as she turned her face away, his sweater and other belongings on her

"What happened to protecting and loving me in every universe? In this universe Miles. I don't care about any other universe, you had one job to do. Is loving me harder than being Spider-Man?" I shook my head side to side in disbelief

"Princessa-" Gwen hummed a timid response. Un-fucking-believeable

"Do not call me that, there's your princessa" I pointed over to Gwen that had her sweater still stuck over her body. The air quotes from myself added to the comedic effect and subtracted from the restraint I had to not laugh

I made a run for it when he turned his head in the direction of my finger before I broke down. I couldn't let him see me like this. I ran to the door, shoes in hand as I searched for my keys, unlocking it. Talking to Miles' mother in between quiet sobs as she rushed behind me, "I'm sorry tiá" I finally made my way onto the streets of Brooklyn running somewhere, anywhere far from their house. Once settled I tried putting on my shoes, who knew that such a simple task was hard when crying ?

Rio's p.o.v

What the hell is going on, more importantly, why is (y/n) crying. I looked up in the direction of Miles' room to see him run forward to the door, a girl that was definitely not her behind him, her lipstick smudged. What the actual- she looks old enough to vote ?! I stood in my position, putting 2 and 2 together.

"Miles Gonzalo Morales. Get. Here. Now."

(Y/n) p.o.v

Still, I was wandering around the city, just something I do to blow off steam. - The hell? - it's kinda wierd to see Brooklyn this empty, especially on a Saturday evening. I continued walking until I saw the reason for the lack of people, The Spot.

Could this day get any worse? I sighed, Yes unfortunately, mentally, I answered my question as I tried running opposite from the creature, my attempts to escape failed as it stretched it's hands to engulf me in its nothingness. As it took me in, I saw holes that spread randomly, seemingly having no start nor end.

I knew what they led into -a new universe-, but not where. Knowing there was no going back, I decided to leap into a random hole, accepting whatever fate it throws to me. Before making my decision, a hole randomly spawned underneath my legs, bringing me into any universe it leads to.

It was a hard fall to say the least but I got up. I landed in...Brooklyn? It was nothing like my Brooklyn but, sure it was pretty. The place was littered with multiple shades of dark purple and other hues, a black tint being evident on the atmosphere. Having nothing else to do, I did what I know best, wander. For about 10 minutes my eyes never left the buildings, neon signs or billboards, it was chaotic...but in a harmonious way. I was now more amused than scared. Then my thoughts hit me like a train

"Where will I stay?"

"Wouldn't I already live here?, I could be dead. SHIT I COULD BE DEAD"

"what should I do now?"

Lost in my own thoughts, I didn't seem to acknowledge the group of men (3) that stood, cat-calling me. I decided to ignore their existence, walking briskly

"Hey doll, come here. I don't bite"

"What's a pretty girl like you doing here?"

With their words slurred, I could only assume they were drunk, plugging my ears with my fingers.

"ohh, so you think you're better than us now?" The third man stated

"bitch"

I blame Miles Morales of earth 1610 for this

They started to run after me, I started to run from them. To make the situation worse on my part, before arming myself with even a rusty nail, one of the men held on my arm, forcefully dragging me into an alleyway and throwing my body against the wall. One thing happened after another, now they started to beat and bruise my body anyway and where they could. Whether it was by throwing glass at my face, kicking my chest, slapping my face, throwing my head back into the wall, stomping on my body they didn't stop. They stopped when I was at my weakest, my mouth was bleeding, slap marks imprinted on my face, glass shards in and around my body, blood dripping at a slow rate from my head, most of it got soaked up in my hair, making the coils look more like curls. They did all this while letting out a few remarks on their minds.

"That's what you get for resisting, you had a choice y'know"

"Think you're better than the rest of us huh?"

"cry all you want, there's no one here to save you"

Spitting out blood, and wiping my mouth with my sleeve I begged for some forgiveness - "Please" "Let me go" -

"Hmm, you see. I really can't do that doll but you can get something else"

"what?"

The man's mouth distorted into a smug smile before he tore my jacket in half from the seams. I tried to cover my chest with the hand covered in blood as the other men laughed. He tore away my hand, slamming my head once more into the wall. Hard. Getting rid of any consciousness I may have had left. I silently cried as I felt my soul slip from my body.

My eyes started to shut , vision doubling as I heard the sound of metal scraping against the wall, faint screams came from infront me, my body getting weak. I heard men shouting, slicing, punching, and, the splatter of something that heavily fell on my face and clothes. Finally, I felt the hand that had intentions of violating my body fall, its owner seemingly dropping to the floor.

Forcing myself to open my eyes I saw a suit with colours of purple and black step towards me, lifting my body up.

"It's all good now. You'll be fine" The voice sounded almost mechanical behind the mask, the demeanour of the wearer gradually softening as he reassured me. I closed my eyes trusting the stranger with my life. I can trust him afterall..right?

[gothic-thoughts]

Professional Tease

(Some more love for the Gojo simps.)

Satoru Gojo x Black GN Reader Smut

Boss/ServantAU, MDNI

CW: giving Gojo🧠, recording, cursing

Word Count: 1201 (give or take)

After losing your phone, you asked other servants around Gojo's Mansion if any of them saw it, getting nothing but shrugs from most of them. You were starting to think you'd have to make a trip back to the coffee shop where you had your lunch break when another maid mentioned seeing it Gojo's main bedroom when she last cleaned it.

You thank her and head up the main stairs, peeking through the slightly open door and almost choking on air when seeing him with nothing but his pants and boots on. He grabs his shirt from the bed, toned muscles flexing as he slid his right arm through the delicate, blue fabric of the sleeve. After the left arm, you watch tentatively as Gojo's slim fingers trail up his abs before latching onto the first tiny button on the shirt. His left fingers hold the fabric while the right slowly pushes button after button through the holes, continuing until it was closed.

"Fuck, what I would give for those fingers anywhere near me." You think, nibbling on your lip. He tucks it into his still-open pants and proceeds to button and zip them, encasing the shirt before reaching back to his bed and picking up his belt. Gojo slowly slipped it through the loops of his pants all around his waist, stopping once he was about to buckle it right above his apparent bulge. He looks over his shoulder, eyes locking with yours as a smug smirk appears on his face.

"Whatcha lookin' at?"

Your eyes widen as he turns to face you, belt hanging open as he reaches for a pair of dark, circular glasses before slipping them on. Two slim fingers beckon you into the room and you step inside with goosebumps crossing your skin and your heart rate increasing while you gather your apology and thoughts. "Save it, I saw those eyes wandering." He whispers as he walks closer to you, not stopping until he was towering over you. You swallow thickly.

"Mine tend to wander too, so I opt for shades."

"Sir, I was just-"

"Satoru."

"....I was just passing by to see if you had my phone."

He pulled your phone out of nowhere, "What, this?" He says, slowly raising it above his head, "You took so long to notice, I was getting worried I grabbed the wrong one."

"You took it?"

"Aw, don't get mad, I knew you'd come looking for it. I just wanted to spend some...time with my favorite maid."

Your eyes widen as steps closer, resting his free hand on your hip and guiding you back towards the door. You look up at his flirty smirk as he whispers, "I have to be somewhere in about 30, so you're not getting the full experience of Satoru Gojo just yet. However..." He presses a single finger to your lips and, a slight distraction from the your back being pressed against the now-closed door. "I am open to a quicker experience..."

"Here?"

"Why, you scared?"

"What if someone hears from behind the door?"

"Like who, another maid? I mean, I guess you'd be making them jealous. Who's gonna get you fired if I'm your boss? Unless you don't want to of course."

With newfound confidence, you kneel before him and undo his pants, intentionally grazing his hard-on as you pulled them to his thighs. Once you pull his boxers down, 7 inches that have been stiff since he noticed you watching him dress spring out, twitching in front of your face. You grab it with one hand, resting the other on his strong thigh as your tongue glides up the side to the head. He looks down at you with a smirk while you stroke the remaining inches until he pulses between your lips---the sound from his mouth was whiny and drawn out.

"Easy; I'm not going anywhere." He soothes, playing with your braids, "You look so good down there, damn~"

Before long, the sight of you slobbering on him was almost more than he could bear so he starts rocking his hips forward, both hands pressed against the door as his head dropped forward to watch his flushed shaft spread your plump lips apart with each thrust.

“You like this, don'tcha?”

"Mhm."

He pulls himself from your mouth and guides your chin up to meet his shades. "Ah-ah-ahh~ I wanna hear you say it."

"I like it, Satoru."

"Bet you do... mmm, I do too."

He slips his length back across your tongue slowly, sighing as his hips move forward desperately. Gojo holds the back of your head and gently guides you to the base, making himself moan as his cock head driving past your tonsils, drool trickling from your lips when you gag.

"Yeah, you better send me this video." He pulls out your phone, making sure you hear the chime when starts recording, "Mmh, take it down."

You look up at him, your head stroking him so well that he moves his shades to the top of his head and bite his lip so hard it starts to bleed. His crystalline eyes lock with yours while he chuckles breathlessly at the wet sound of gagging that filled his bedroom every time his tip hit the back of your throat. 

"Ngh, yes~" He moans, zooming in on your mouth, "Ah, that's it, don't stop. Don't you dare stop, keep going."

Your hand slips into your pants and underwear, stroking yourself to the rhythm of your bobbing. He releases your head and presses his hand back to the door with a soft moan, hoping someone would hear your slurping. You suck him deeper into your throat until it twitched against your tongue, spilling more precum onto it.

"Damn, baby, who knew I hired a whore? Lucky me~"

Gojo's gaze was focused on your mouth through the camera, watching his dick quickly slip past your lips before he pulls out and strokes his sensitive tip along your soft tongue. He chuckles breathlessly as he pulls out completely, leaving a string of spit dripping down your chin. 

"What's my name?"

"S'toru." You choke.

"Again."

"Satoru~"

He plays with your hair again before grabbing it to guide your head back and forth along his throbbing cock while you pleasure yourself. Your tongue swipes over his slit, making his moans breathy as his hips falter and his cock twitch as you suck harder.

"F-fuck, keep sucking." Satoru groans, shivering, "Ngh, I'm gonna cum, fuuck yeah~"

With a shiver and a soft moan, Gojo finally shoot his warm cum into the back of your throat, continuing to shakily thrust until he was drained completely before he pulls out to smear the rest on your plump lips. He rubs his sensitive head on your bottom lip with a shaky breath, whispering,

"Clean it up. C'mon, I already late as hell."

You wrap your puffy lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around to clean off every white drop left behind. Satoru pulled out and pulled up his pants while you licked your lips clean with a soft sigh of relief.

"Don't forget to send me that vid. And when I get back maybe we can make another."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: first smut on the blog and its not even someone i simp for thats crazy 🎉🎊🥳🥳

[hellhound5925]

I’m back! And back with something I promise will be worth it! (I freaking love this gif and have been looking for an excuse to use it 😂)

One Shot - Sargent Hunter

“It’s better this way” (Part One)

So we can argue that 'The Love You Want' and 'Blood Sport' by Sleep Token inspired this. If you haven't, give them a listen and think about it from Hunter's POV. Also I'm going to throw a name in but feel free to read it as whoever you want. This will be a few parts and end happy I promise! Probably going to be some cute romantic smut so please stick around!

Warnings:

18+, heartbreak, smut, (I'm bad at warnings let me know if I missed anything) mentions of blood (unintentional self harm?). References to stars exploding. Female character/reader.

Summary:

Relationships during wartime are tough...you'd know that better than anyone. Being a Mandalorian, you has been asked to train clones on Kamino. It just felt like the right thing to do, and what confirmed that for you was the moment the handsome Sargent had his eyes on you. Eventually letting him get to know you, you felt deep and hard for the man, but the reality of the war was forever in the back of your mind....

————

The last few days have been full of moping around and trying to avoid the love of my life...yeah thats right I said it...he's the love of my life...however the reality of the war knocking on my door telling me he's been killed in action is one of the toughest pills to swallow. Having decided it would be easier to let him go than to bare the heartache, I've been trying to find the right words to say to make him understand.

I'm so lost in my own head, sharpening my blades I almost missed it, "Hey" Hunter’s voice comes from over my shoulder. The tone is a somber one, making my heart shatter like glass into millions of tiny shards. For a moment I hesitate, wondering if I should pick up the pieces or move on - I knew this was going to be hard, I just didn't realize how hard...Two strong arms wrap around my torso, pulling me from my thoughts, and instinctively I push them away.

"We need to talk" I mutter as a tear slides down my cheek. Quickly, I wipe it away before turning to face him all while avoiding his eyes. He's not stupid...it doesn't take enhanced senses to know what's going on, but I'm sure it intensifies things... his hand moves towards my face and this time I allow the contact as he turns my face up towards his. I immediately get lost, those big beautiful brown eyes that let you know your the star at the very center of his universe. The sun that gives life to the surrounding planets.

His voice is as calm as darkness of space, deep and almost apologetic "Please talk to me Mesh'la. I know you're in pain." Sucking in a shaky breath, I attempt to steady myself. "I think it's best if we both go our separate ways" the sentence comes falling out of my mouth before my brain can even catch up.

I search his face for any indication of a reaction but get none. He doesn't move, doesn't speak, doesn't even blink for that matter. It's like someone pressed the pause button and all of the galaxy comes to a screeching halt. Meanwhile I tear his apart, the star at the center running out of nuclear fuel, causing a collapse at it's core, ending in a large galactic explosion.

Without another word or explanation, I decide it's best to give him some time to deal with the black hole now left behind. I storm off down the hall, walking much faster that I intended to, escaping the situation. Tears stream down my face and a few clones passing by exchange concerned looks. I'm suddenly filled by anger - I just gave up on him…on us, I don't need your pity - I think to myself.

The feeling of something warm in my hand catches my attention, stopping my in my tracks. Looking down I realize I still have one of my blades in my hand and I've been white knuckling it, the crimson liquid seeps between the cold durasteel and my skin. For a moment I watch as it drips to the floor, creating a small puddle that spatters with each drop. As I watch, string of curses in my native language of Mando'a grace my lips with their presence.

A familiar voice calls my name “Circe?” Without taking my eyes off the drips that have my undivided attention, “Elek? (Yes?)” I mutter - brain still working in Mando’a. The crimson drips are picking up their pace but I can’t help but watch in a trance. I can hear a set of plastoid boots hitting the permacrete growing closer. “You are injured, I would get that looked at if I were you.” Slowly I reach for the blade with my other hand and Tech moves like he’s going to stop me, “I would not—“ I cut him off, hissing as I pull the blade from the wound. The cut is deep and now that it’s hit the air, it stings. He sighs in annoyance “Come with me. You need to get cleaned up.”

In the med bay I don’t meet his gaze. He has no idea how I’ve hurt his vod (brother), not yet anyways. Once he’s finished, he stands in front of me as I stare at the white bandage now wrapped around my palm. “That should do it for now. You will need to have it changed tomorrow. Come find me then.” When he’s done talking, I expect him to move but he doesn’t. I finally raise my head and meet his eyes. The same big brown eyes he shares with so many others look back at me and one particular Clone Sargent comes to mind, I come completely undone.

Not a sound leaves my lips, but tears stream down my face. Tech looks around frantically as if something will appear of thin air and offer an explanation. I’ve always been able to confided in him, he’s my best friend but we never talked about how I felt…he never saw this coming. “I ended it” my voice cracks. The look on his face tells me he’s put two and two together, his eyebrows look as if they are trying to find a new home within his hair line and just when I think his eyes couldn’t get bigger they do. And just then, in his eyes another star burns up into nothing. I can’t blame him for how he might feel, I broke his vod’s (brothers) heart and no one saw it coming.

Composing himself from the shock, he clears his throat and straightens his goggles - as if they needed it. “I am sorry to hear that” is all he says. I can’t lose my best friend too…not now. “I can’t lose him” I blurt out, sounding way more desperate than I intended to. He gives me a confused look. “If he dies out there…” I can’t even finish the thought it hurts like a thousand blades cutting deep into my core. Tears stream more persistently down my face, clouding my vision.

“You do not want to lose him out there…so you push him away here?” Confusion dripping from his voice.

“I know it doesn’t make sense but Tech trust me…it’s better this way.”

“Better for who exactly?”

“For me.” He doesn’t respond and silence once again fills the room. I don’t know why I’m trying to explain this to him…he doesn’t and won’t understand. Pushing myself off the exam table, I stride past him towards the door. I hesitate for a moment, “This will hurt less in the end.” And with that I head down the hall to prepare to teach my next class.

Taglist:

@cloneloverrrrr @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @idoubleswearimawriter @maybethatfanfictionwriter

@savebytheodore @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @jediknightjana @techs-goggles9902 @clonethirstingisreal

[billys-pretty-babe]

Strong Enough to Bring Sun to the Darkest Days

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Platonic!Fem!Reader

Warnings : mentions of depression, suicidal ideation and anxiety

Word count : 708

A/N : today has been extremely hard and i just needed an escape, this most likely won't be as good as my others but i just needed a distraction.

You hadn't seen your best friend in two weeks, you were currently holed up in your bedroom, having your mother make any unwanted guests to leave and unfortunately, that included Billy. You barely had the energy to drag yourself out of your bed to do some form of hygiene, most of the time, it was the bare minimum.

Your episodes became more frequent, more harmful to your mental health with the thoughts of wanting to go to sleep one night and not waking up the next. The first few days, you spent endless hours crying until you could no longer cry, just get the burning sensation of the tears and the burning in your nose.

At night, you felt nauseous when you were left home alone, afraid something would happen, your teeth would chatter, your hands would shake and your heart rate picked up, you thought your heart was going to explode.

Your parents left once again, both having a night job and as soon as the deadbolt locked, the anxiety settled into your belly as you bit your tongue, trying to swallow your lunch back down, deciding on skipping out on dinner. Not even an hour had passed before you heard footsteps in front of your window.

You tried to be rational, trying to tell yourself it was just a stray animal until someone's knuckles hit the window quickly, three taps. You tried to smile, you knew exactly who it was, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. You got up, your body aching from being in your bed, your bed having an indent in the shape of your body.

You pulled the black curtains back and there he was. Billy smiled, wiggling his fingers as he pointed at your latch, wanting you to unlock your window. He unlocked it and peeled the window up, listening to it creak from not being used for fourteen days. Billy ducked under the window, letting himself into your bedroom before you quickly shut the window, latching it and closing your curtains.

"What're you doing here," you asked as you made your way back to your bed, laying in your crater, the mattress hugging your body, trying to provide you comfort. Billy looked at you, tossing his leather wallet onto your bedside table, moving you over so he could sit beside you. "Why are you shutting me out?" You shrugged, you couldn't tell him you were getting bad again, he had helped you so much.

He reached for you, not wanting to overstep any boundaries by grabbing you. You reached out as well, grabbing his slightly calloused hand. "I'm getting bad again," you said quietly and he nodded, nudging your body over so he could lay beside you. "I know," he said just as quietly. "I wanted to give you some time but I was getting worried, but I haven't seen you in two weeks. They usually only last a couple days." You nodded, "They've been back to back." He nodded once more.

He squeezed your hand tightly so you'd pay attention to him, "I love you and I'm here if you ever need me. You can come to me whenever you need something or someone, okay?" You nodded, moving closer to him as you placed your head on his shoulder. "I love you too, B." He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and you smiled as you felt his smile.

"Can you stay the night?" He nodded as he moved his head to one of your pillows. "Already got a change of clothes in the car, sweetheart." You nodded. "Thank you for everything." He smiled, "You don't need to thank me. I'll do anything for you, you know that." You nodded, twisting the silver ring on his finger.

"Scoot, my ass is hanging over the bed." You laughed and moved for him as he moved so he was on the bed. "Go to sleep." You nodded, knowing how much sleep you'd been getting lately. "Love you." He smiled, "Love you too, sweetheart." He pressed a kiss to your forehead once more before holding you tightly, gently pressing your ear to his chest, where his heart would be.

One finger traced your features softly, lulling you to sleep.

[iknowsescapingjourneys]

(A/N: I have literally never written a fan fiction in my life so this is going to be an adventure. I have an eighteen chapter series planned for this if things go well. I am a white girl that grew up in the middle of nowhere, USA, so if I get any British slang wrong or accidentally mess up something when it comes to his culture, please correct me! I am completely open to concrit.

Other than that, there’s not many triggers in this chapter. Kinda new to Tumblr, I was an embarrassing teenager the last time, pls don’t look at my posts, so I don’t know what needs to be tagged. There’s some fighting, but nothing graphic or gory. Mentions of theft. That’s about it. I am going off of the interview with the directors that say that he is an adult, and there will be smut in later chapters.

Please let me know what you think! I will also do requests for one-shots if anyone has anything in particular they’d like to see.)

Reckless Driving

Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader

Chapter 1

The crunch of glass beneath the PVC of Doc Martins seems to become an increasingly familiar sound. The stretch and curl of fingers in her gloves causes the sound of metal claws scraping together to echo through the showroom of the commercial jewelry store, barely audible as an alarm blares heavily above her head. The night vision equipped in her helmet makes it easy to see the glass case she’s peering down at, and with a slam of a gloved, clawed fist, the barrier shatters into a hundred sharp, sparkling pieces that fall to the floor and the display below. Claws curl easily around necklaces and rings, dropping them into the cargo pockets of her pants.

She knows how long it takes the police to show up, and she knows that she has three minutes left, if she’s lucky. She’s been here longer than she usually prefers to be, having had a difficult time busting the first display open. The police scanner in her ear chatters away, reports of her misconduct and theft a hot topic. She scoots to her left, repeating her earlier process, and zipping up the pocket when it feels heavy against her thigh.

She turns on her heel to dash to the employee exit in the back, but finds herself colliding with something, a mix of blue and red and black. She stumbles back, eyes widening beneath her masked helmet. Her first instinct is Spiderman, who she is more than well acquainted with, and not in any way that could be deemed positive. Her fist flies through the air without thought, stopped short when it’s grabbed mid trajectory and used to push her back into the broken display case. Her back arches to avoid sharp shrapnel, and she kicks a leg up, outsole colliding with a denim clad knee.

Denim? She pauses her onslaught long enough to get a good look at who exactly has wandered into her crime scene. An eyebrow raises beneath the LEDs of her helmet as she takes him in. This, this was not Spiderman. What looked to be heavy liner circled the mask’s eyes, dripping down below the eye holes. The suit was covered in spikes, both built into it and adorned with bracelets, and belts, and even protruding from the leather jacket that hung loosely on his frame. A guitar was strapped across his back, strings messily sprouting from string trees.

She was pulled from her analysis when a heavy boot made contact with her chest, sending her flying back into the cash register of the jewelry store. She could hear sirens approaching over the sound of the alarm screaming, and she knew flashing lights were only moments away. Her eyes flickered back up to the man encroaching on her space like a predator stalking its prey.

“Man, look at the time,” She spouts, notes of sarcasm and nervousness sprinkled throughout her otherwise surprisingly even tone. “Guess I should probably head out.” She continues, throwing her upper body to the side to avoid another well aimed kick. This time she notices the yellow and blue of ladder laced cords.

“Blue laces, huh? Seems like an odd color for someone working with the cops.” She taunts, managing to pull herself over the counter of the cash register, shoving open the door to the back room with her own boot as she backs herself up.

The man seems to pause for a moment, running his eyes over her figure with a look of confused conflict. “Y’know lace code?” He asks, and she can’t help the laugh that bubbles from her throat.

His accent is thick, and it’s immediately apparent to her that he is not from around here, though New York was known to have a melting pot of people. His voice is deep, but not intimidatingly so, and she finds she actually quite likes it, even from the small sampling she’s heard so far. Her eyes glance down to her own laces, strung up in a similar fashion. One side yellow, the other side purple.

“I might,” She finally answers with a grin, knowing that the duration between the question and her answer was probably long enough that he knows she was taken aback by his accent.

She turns the lock to the back exit with clawed fingers, being as delicate and quiet as possible as she continues to attempt to distract him long enough to get herself out the door.

The heel of her palm presses against the metal lever of the doorknob, her eyes locking on a shelving unit just a leg’s distance away.

“I like the pin,” She mentions, gesturing with her head towards the large A of the anarchy symbol adorned on his jacket. When he glances down in an effort to see which one her eyes have locked on, she kicks her leg out, sending the shelf crashing between them, creating a makeshift barrier.

She knows if he’s anything like the Spiderman she’s used to, he’ll make quick work of throwing it to the side, but it’s a divider long enough for her to slam her hand down and barrel out of the metal door keeping her from her motorcycle.

The pads of her non-gloved fingers press down hard on a button strapped to her thigh and the bike roars to life in a brilliant light show, greens and purples illuminating the dark alley. She throws a leg over the seat, straddling across the leather as her foot slams into the gas, lurching forward as the metal door flies open again to reveal the lanky frame of the man she’d fought with moments prior.

By that point though, she was practically a bat out of hell, motorcycle weaving through alleys so fast that she wasn’t much more than a blur. To be fair, she’s well aware that he could probably catch up to her if he wanted to, using the webs to leap from building to building. Track her down, wrap her up, deliver her to the police.

For some reason, it doesn’t surprise her when he doesn’t.

______________________________

He couldn’t be arsed to chase after you, if he was being honest. First of all, this was a chain, and the markups on the shit they sold was enough to make his anarchist blood boil. Combined with the fact that the cops were out to get her, (and he would rather die than be seen working in collaboration with pigs), it seemed less than important to go swinging through a city he wasn’t entirely familiar with to repossess some cliché engagement rings and some overly gaudy necklaces.

So he knew it wasn’t guilt about letting her get away that rattled around in his head a day later. That conclusion lead him to where he was now: staring down at his boots as they moved him through the night, barely cognizant of what was going on around him as he shifted through thoughts that seemed to pop up faster than he could shoo them away, akin to pop-ups on a shady website.

His tongue ran back and forth over the metal of his lip ring, feeling the shift of piercing to flesh with each passing movement. A stem he often found himself utilizing when he was overwhelmed with his own mind.

He’s only pulled from his thoughts when a familiar sound erupts through the silent air from across the park he’s meandering through. His head snaps in the direction of the noise, pierced brows furrowing slightly. The rumble of a bass guitar, clearly played by someone with experienced fingers, because the tune sounded incredible.

Through the light foliage, definitely planted by a city council in order to make the area look more ‘organic’, he was just capable of making out a feminine frame propped on the black plastic playground border. He couldn’t say he recognized the song, but it definitely had an edge to it. A bite. He liked it.

She didn’t seem to notice him as he made his way over, eyes locked on the way her fingers caressed four thick strings, and the way they reverberated as she pulled away from each one, the timbre of each note filling the air.

“A little late to be putting on a show, innit?”

He can’t choke back the laugh that climbs from his chest when her head swings up to make eye contact with him, her fingers stuttering on strings that release a roar upon her mis-strum. He makes note of the way her eyes widen, akin to a deer stuck in the headlights of a car. Clearly she wasn’t used to people stumbling upon her little solo jams.

“Not much of a show.”

The woman in front of him mumbles, her eyes downcast once again in embarrassment, though he was just capable of making out the dusting of blush that adorned the apples of her cheeks. He settled himself on the plastic divider next to her, brushing off a piece of mulch that threatened to fall to the grass outside of its designated area.

“Not sure about that, princess. Can’t say I wasn’t enjoying it.”

He watches her blink a few times, face twisting in confusion a little as she glances up at him. He takes the chance to let his eyes wander the details of her complexion: the little laugh lines on the corners of her lips and nose, the way her eyes shimmer in the dim light of the lamp post, the gloss applied to her lips.

“Princess?”

She asks, and he realizes that she thinks he’s some prat trying to harass her in the middle of the night. He gives an apologetic smile, his lip ring reflecting the lighting and enunciating the gesture.

“Seems like I’m about to make a total cock-up of this whole situation.”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his hand against his forehead, warm flesh brushing cold metal bumps of thick metal captive beads.

“Promise I’m not tryna chat you up. It’s just a ‘abit.”

He watches her frame deflate from the bristled posture it held moments prior, and he relaxes slightly as well, leaning back as palms dig into rough wood shavings. His eyes wander her before he gets to her shirt and the back of his large, ringed hand hits her shoulder.

“You like R&B?”

He asks, fingers gripping on the hem of the black material and pulling it slightly to flatten the material so he can get a better look at it. Her lips twitch in discomfort for a moment, an action he doesn’t miss, and he pulls his hands away, not embarrassed but feeling a little bad for what definitely seemed like harassing this girl now.

“Erykah Badu is the background track to just about every trip I’ve been on.”

She says softly after an extended silence, and the little grin that climbs the corner of her lips is not lost on him. Maybe she wasn’t completely under the impression he’d lost the plot. He pulls his phone from his pocket, glancing at the time.

Then he glances at it again, eyes widening. How had he managed to fuck around until two in the morning? If people weren’t pissed because they were looking for him, they’d be pissed the next morning when he couldn’t drag his arse out of bed.

He was honestly a little disheartened by the fact that he’d managed to absolutely flounder the entire conversation, just to pick himself up right as he had to leave.

“Really should get going. I’m absolutely gutted I couldn’t ‘ear you play more of that bass.”

He says with a grin, long legs pulling to a stand as he tried to remember what direction he’d come from and how to get back. His spidey-senses tingle right before his hand wraps around his wrist, and he yanks it away at the last second out of instinct. She seems dissuaded by the rejection, and he does his best to soothe the burn with a grin.

“Sorry, doll. Just not used to being touched.”

He apologizes, raising horizontally pierced brows as an invitation for her to speak her mind. It’s the least he could do for harassing her and then fucking off right as they started to actually have a conversation.

“Do you think I could have your number?”

He’s no stranger to being hit on. He’s no stranger to being the one to hit on others, either. And he can’t deny that she’s a very beautiful woman. Still, he knows better. This isn’t his universe, and he’s not here to make friends, and especially not here to shag around whatever version of New York this was.

“I’m flattered, really. Can’t say I think that’s the brightest idea though. I could be mad, y’know?”

The woman’s shoulders drop slightly at being pied off, and he reaches out to set a hand on the pewter gray of the shoulder of her shirt.

“Don’t take it personal though, princess. I’ve just got a lot on my shoulders at the moment.”

He reassures, letting his hand drop back down to his side and turning on his heel before he stared at her too long and changed his mind. The last thing he needed to do was find himself attached to a civilian, especially one that he’d have to dimension hop for. The cons far outweighed the pros.

Hobie Brown was a rebel, but he wasn’t daft.

[cryptid-killjoy]

orleans-jester​:

“The Phillipines?” Maddy asked, trying to make sure that she heard her husband right. That was something so out of left field. She never even heard him mention it before.

All that he would have had to say was fireflies. But he went on, showing how much he had actually researched this. This - this passionate side of Bastien - she absolutely loved. She’d been worried about him lately, so this felt like a big amazing breath of relief.

She was smiling as he spoke, his enthusiasm being extremely catchy. “Of course I want to go to the Phillipines with you,” She laughed, like it was even a question. She’d go anywhere, as long as he was there. It was thousands of islands that made up one country, and she’d go with him, even if they went to the very worst one, just so that he could see the fireflies, and she could watch him while he did so.

And! And! And! There were so many that it was overwhelming, but that was good because it was pushing everything that had been bothering her out of her head, taking over the space.

“I didn’t know that either,” She admitted about the swans. “That’s really cool, means we’ll probably see a lot of them when we stay in our New Zealand house.”

The swan thing was very sweet. Sad, in the instance of an animal suicide, which was never that pleasant to think about, but sweet nonetheless. Swans didn’t have any idea of what romance is and yet … they set the scene, they might as well have written the book. This was hardly the first time that she was learning things from Bastien, but it had been a while since he went on this learning adventure. “I didn’t know any of that, someone’s been busy,” She said, admiringly.

She had it on her, as she always did when she went out. She’d run a small braid through the inner part of her, and tuck the feather into it, making sure that it stayed where it was supposed to by using her own hair to grip it. She was able to pull it out easily enough to show him what it was.

“It’s black, but you painted a white swan on it,” She said, presenting it to him. She didn’t even need to look at it anymore, it was tattooed inside of her mind. “And I know it’s a magic feather because the whites stayed vibrant on it.”

“When do you want to go, baby?” She asked, since she was the detail girl and would take care of all of that for them.

It probably did seem out of left field, but he’d researched it, as she said, and as much as Peru might have seemed like an obvious option considering their “in” there was more invested in what he’d learned about the outcasted people of the Philippines, especially The Happy Jail. Peru was already taken care of with Piper in charge. She was handling business. Whatever was the matter, it was only a matter of time for people. He watched the documentary on that jail as he said and then he went down the internet rabbit hole so to speak. When Bastien’s mind goes down a spiral of any kind there’s no stopping it and there’s no telling where it will go. 

It inspired him enough to make moves that were quite out of character and also so Bastien it was more Bastien than Bastien could ever be that it could still probably be quite shocking, especially out of context the way he tends to explain things. 

“Cool. I’m glad you’ll come because I used my Esme account to book an appointment with the warden on a dance day. Erm, well... you know... back up... in case you didn’t know, The Happy Jail teaches the inmates to dance to keep them busy, but it’s still a really sucky ass, hard core worst prisons for living conditions. Now I just have to figure out how to get there. I don’t think I can walk there. I want to give away all my money to a random prisoner. You can use cards to book flights too, right?” He asked being a person who never booked a flight in his life. 

 Yes, Bastien was suddenly on a mission to give his millions to a random anybody on some nameless island while he’s moseying around his firefly jail tour. The only dang time he’s used the account and it was to book a mission to get rid of it his way. 

“I’m never going to use it. Might as well give it to some other poor fucker that could use it. If he’s in that jail he’s probably a little down on his luck anyway.” 

He gave his head a good nod, like yup, that’s what he figures. 

“It’s an under rated place I think. I’m going to find out. National Geographic has a lot of information on what it’s like to captured as a tourist in other countries. It’s sort of like being on the street here or just about anywhere probably. Man is man, ya know? In the end people who don’t understand poverty always get surprised when they’re taken out of luxury. The criminal mind and the survivalist get blurred so much when the pressure is on.” He shook his head and tapped his chin with his hand. “I’d just donate it to the jail, but then it’d put it in the corrupt rich people’s hands. That’s why I’m going to give the money in my Esmeralda account to a prisoner instead. You know. Someone random. After I get to know them. I’ll know who. I’ll just know. It’ll come to me.”

As for the black swans, “Yeah right? I really thought it was like black panthers or sheep, a genetic mutation, and born at random. But, nope. It’s whole breeds of them. I also read the black swans have like a six percent rate of living through mate’s death and moving to find someone new in comparison to the others, and even sometimes lived in groups I think, sort of like Chip. So, I thought that was funny because it was a New Zealand thing. Well, it did say some were from Australia, but eh, it was too much of a coincidence with New Zealand to not be pretty hilarious to think about. Koda says nothing is random. So I’m going with it.” 

He stepped forward when she brought it out where it was hanging from her hair. 

“Oh, there it is.” 

He supposed he hadn’t noticed. His eyes had a lot to focus on. 

“But, what I liked to think on was this feather came from out Nola Park’s lake, but that means it’s ancestors probably came from New Zealand once upon a time. Then here I am generations of swans later painting it, giving it to you, and we take it back to visit it’s homeland. I thought that was pretty cool.” He shrugged just thinking about the evolution of time, so fascinating to him. “Wild, huh?” 

 Then he kept running the strand with the feather through his fingers, twirling it. 

When? 

“Oh, uh... I don’t know. Whenever. Just as long as we get there by the date of the jail’s dance performance because I made an appointment. We can do the other stuff before or after. It’s all whatever. I’m flexible.” 

Of course Bastien was flexible. 

“I just don’t want to miss my appointment.” 

Then he’d hand her his phone to show her his calendar and all the notes he had written down in it. Most of his notes started with the word Delta or Frankie. One said Happy Jail. Another said Maddy Surprise Stuff. He quickly put his finger over that one. 

“Don’t click those.” 

Bastien came rushing in their dungeon at a run. He dropped his hammer without even putting it in it's proper put-away location.

"MADDY!! MADDY!! You have to listen to what I learned tonight. You just have to."

His cheeks were flushed from the sprint. His pale skin all splotchy from the exertion to hurry up to get to her.

[calummss]

Hardships | Thomas Shelby

masterlist

summary: living and surviving in a place like small heath was hard enough. your rebellious daughter made it harder on you. thomas promises to get you out of the place

pairing: fem! reader x thomas shelby

words: 3.5k

a/n: this takes place during s1 but tommy is significantly older in this fic, maybe 30?

‘Yes, put me through.’

‘Good morning, am I speaking with Mrs. Shelby?’ A woman's voice sounded from the receiver as you wrote down another check and filed it into the record book.

The store started to crowd like it did every monday morning, women but also men coming to buy new clothes. Some of them would write checks and hand them in before leaving.

Rich people gave no regard to the staff that worked day and night, or would stay up late to go over final touches so that the clothes could be bought and worn the next day. Being the best tailor at the store, needles poking into your skin almost constantly was no unfamiliar occurrence. You were also familiar with waking up early and leaving with a salary that would only last you a week at best. Your husband worked tirelessly on his business that was starting to gain popularity, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

‘Yes, this is Mrs. Shelby. Who am I speaking to?’ You gave a quick smile to Betty, pushing the check files towards her and pulled the telephone across the counter, excusing yourself to take the phone call.

‘I’m calling from Small Heath Elementary School. My name is Mrs. Tarly, headmistress of the school.’

‘Good morning to you,’ you played with the hem of your dress out of habit. ‘Is there something wrong?’

‘There is something wrong indeed, Mrs. Shelby.’ Her unusual high-pitched voice shrilled harshly, making you remove the receiver a couple of inches away from your ear to prevent ear damage.

‘What is it regarding?’ You pushed. For someone being so worked up about something she seemed to forget the part where one mentions the reason for being so worked up.

‘Your daughter, Mrs. Shelby,’ stern, but somehow sounded like she was on the verge of tears as she continued to explain the situation. ‘She is too much to handle on a monday morning or any time of the day when she’s out causing nothing but trouble.’ She took a deep breath, almost bracing herself. ‘Stealing from classmates? Starting fights out of pity? What are you teaching that young girl at home? This gypsy-behaviour won’t be tolerated at this school.’

‘Excuse me?’ Gypsy behaviour? Though the girl was only half that, was there no way to talk to a human being.

‘Please come to the school immediately to pick up your daughter, Mrs. Shelby. We will continue this conversation in person in my office.’

‘But I—‘ Your words were cut off by the sound of the receiver being placed back onto the switch hook.

Placing the phone back down yourself, you slid it back to the main part of the counter, smiling at Betty who was checking out a gorgeous gold ballgown you had completed last night.

‘The girl made trouble again?’ Betty’s smile added a small comfort to your position.

‘How did you know?’ You sighed, carefully grabbing your bag from one of the drawers.

‘What else could it be? Oh—‘ She turned to a customer and checked her out before distancing herself from the registry, her pink-painted eyelids lifting. ‘It’s okay.’ She grabbed your hands, gently squeezing them, ‘I’ll cover for you.’

You stared down at your intertwined hands laced with guilt as you would have to miss work again. Lifting your head, your lips rubbed against each other, your eyes saying more than you would be able to. You let her hands fall back to her hips and grabbed your black coat that had gotten quite hole-ridden but you hid it well.

‘I swear I’ll make it up to you.’ You placed a kiss against her cheek, adding a quick smile before heading out of the door.

Muddy streets, garbage filled pavements, parents barely making a living after laying everything down for the king, filled the slum of Small Heath, Birmingham. You loved the place. You grew up here, met the man you love and had a daughter. The Small Heath community was like a family, always watching out for each other, aiding anyone who needed it. But with crime riddled areas like your home, suspicion of certain crimes you knew Thomas participated in or was the cause for, grew. You wanted a better life. To move into a nice house where the chirping of nightingales woke you up to a sunny and green field beyond your eyes could see. Not the cries and shouts of men that were covered in dirt, head to toes, as they toss and turn like a pair of lion cubs without their mothers. You wanted a life others were jealous of. A life where people called you spoiled if your food touched the ground and you let it sit there for the animals, instead just getting a new piece. A life people would call plastic because it was too good to be true. A home that was safe for your daughter; not having to worry if any given moment would be the last you would see of her innocence.

The school was only a 15 minute walk away. On your way you walked past Lizzie who had just finished her grocery shopping like she did every monday, and Pete, the postman who insisted on cramming two letters into your hand instead of letting you wait and coming by later.

As you arrived at the entrance, walking through the empty field, Judy greeted you.

‘Hey you,’ you smiled, resting your hand on her neatly braided hair. Her brown skin glowing in the sunlight.

‘Lily is in trouble again.’ Walking towards the school she almost led the way, her shiny black shoes leaving trails of mud on the floor.

‘I know,’ you chuckled. ‘That’s why I’m here. Your mother is covering my shift at work again.’ You joked, poking her arm.’You tell her that she is the best mother ever,’

Judy nodded proudly.

Entering the building you could see Lily sitting on a chair at the end of the hall.

‘Are you okay?’ You crouched down to her level, holding her face with both of your hands as you examined her, knowing she most likely wasn’t hurt at all.

‘The question you should be asking, Mrs. Shelby,’ Mrs. Tarly towered the two of you, her old gray hair blocking the lights (she was stuck in her younger ages). ‘Is the other girl, okay?’

You cleared your throat, standing up to see a dark-haired lady behind Mrs. Tarly, a small girl next to her with a reddened cheek. The woman scoffed walking past you, bumping into your shoulder making you stumble. You only met it with a small cough.

‘If you would follow me, Mrs. Shelby.’

‘Of course.’ You glanced back at Lily who was accompanied by Judy, and stepped into the office, the door closing with the loud rustling of the blinds.

‘What type of behaviour is exhibited at home for Lily to act so savagely? An 11 year old girl should have manners and be able to distinguish right from wrong.’ Mrs. Tarly jumped straight to the point before you could even take your seat. ‘Even that Judy girl behaves better for her kind.’

‘Lily is growing up in a very loving home,’ you shifted uncomfortably, the fabric of your gloves starting to itch your dry winter skin. ‘I can assure you that, Mrs. Tarly. And there is no need to drag in something unrelated.’

A cup was placed before you, shortly being filled with a steaming cup of tea, though your thirst was not bothering you the way she spoke of Judy.

‘We all know of your husband’s reputation.’ Judgement.

You were so taken aback you were at a loss for words. You became worryingly aware of your own heartbeat. Each sign of life closing the space towards your chest.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘How can you say that Lily is growing up in a loving home when your husband enjoys himself physically hurting people for money.’ Thin red lips wrapped themselves around the porcelain teacup. Nothing but judgement clouded her eyes like the misty fog that swept over Small Heath way too often.

You were unprepared. You noticed that when you brainstormed for a possible reply but nothing. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the way she spoke to you and about your family. Stereotypes seeping through her gritty teeth.

‘I think it’s in order to give the girl some punishment, don’t you agree?’ She folded her wrinkly hands neatly, projecting a good catholic woman that was deemed way too religious to be angry with . ‘A suspension for one week seems appropriate. What do you say, Mrs. Shelby?’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs. Tarly,’ you clutched your bag tight to your stomach, lifting yourself off the chair, her eyes following your movement. ‘I think I might have given you the wrong impression. Lily won’t be coming back.’

‘What?’ She too stood up, bracing herself on the table.

‘I’m also sure that when I speak to Mrs. Brown, Judy’s mother as you know,’ you readjust your handbag, ‘Judy also won’t be coming back.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘You in particular have shown me today that your school is not capable of handling children in their natural nature. Nor are you able to be kind to people that don’t look like me, though your Gyspy stereotypes are quite the entertainment.’ You chuckled. ‘I don’t feel comfortable sending Lily here anymore when much better options are available to me.’ You glanced around the room, kindly judging it with a fake smile. ‘Good day now.’

Lily was still sitting on the chair, Judy was gone, most likely in class.

‘Come on now, dear.’ You placed your hand on Lily’s shoulder, placing her hat on her head and strutted away through the long hallway, Mrs. Tarly not being able to keep her eyes off you, in shock to have a person treat her like she wasn’t the number one person to respect.

‘I can’t keep picking you up at school, Lily,’ you walked the same way back. The tension rose as the dark clouds started to cloud the blue sky. ‘I have a job that I need to work for to be able to feed you.’

Lily, mute since the second you saw her did not break her silence, her quiet breaths making you feel made fun of.

‘We aren’t rich like a lot of your now ex-classmates. I need to work and you getting in trouble is prohibiting me from doing just that.’ Sucking cold fresh breaths through your teeth felt like it was cooling down your building anger.

‘But Daddy’s business is good.’ Lily finally spoke, her shiny black shoes that Thomas had worked for for an entire month hit the pavement.

‘Not good enough…’ A heavy sigh fell from your lips, immediately worrying about the business because it was all that Thomas was thinking about.

‘She called me a gypsy, Mummy!’

‘Suck it up!’ You stopped at the corner that would lead to the Garrison. ‘The world is tough.’ You stared down at her, her lips pressing against each other. ‘We’re running out of schools and you need an education! You’re a modern girl in a modern world. Some people aren’t even allowed to go to school because of the way they look. You’re taking this for granted when other people wish for a life like yours.’ You caught your breath, shaky hand resting on your forehead.

Lily did not seem interested in the conversation, her eyes trailing to a group of boys that were taking turns playing with marbles. You nudged her arm to focus her back on what you were saying though you didn’t believe much change would happen.

‘Do you want to depend on your husband?’

‘You do.’ So disinterested, her tone was far from kind.

‘I make my money by making dresses.’

‘You basically work for free and let Daddy pay for everything.’ She crossed her arms. Her once white socks covered in dirt at the back of her calves with the constant polishing of her shoes when she was nervous.

With the words Lily had ushered you were in a state of disbelief.

‘I don’t want to hear another word from you until we are home!’

‘But—‘

‘Lily, I mean it.’ You started picking up your pace again, the weight of disappointment in your heart was heavy. ‘Hold it or I swear it you’ll be doing housework instead of enjoying your childhood.’

You didn’t mean it, Lily knew that too. She knew you were angry and that she had been disrespectful, her too feeling something heavy in her chest. You weren’t an angry person but when you were pushed to your limits it meant that it was serious, and she knew not to speak another word or the pot would overflow and add more damage.

Arriving at number 7 Watery Lane, the smell of burning cigarettes, whiskey, and sweat his your senses, adding to the burning flame within, as you walked through the door. Polly, who was sitting in the kitchen, her eyes on the newspaper, noticed that something was wrong, but before you could speak you had already walked past her. Blank expression giving her the hint of what had happened.

‘Tommy love, can you please come here?’ You stood at the green door frame not wanting to push your way past men.

Thomas turned around, cigarette sitting on his lips, his eyes droopy from the lack of sleep. ‘Give me 10 minutes.’

‘No, Tommy. Now.’ Crossing your arms you met the stares of men who felt way too comfortable in your own (part time) house.

‘5 minutes.’

‘I swear to god, Tommy!’ Your voice now grew attention of every individual that was either in the room betting, or people that stood outside the doors waiting to place their bets, but you did not care. ‘I have had a very bad day,’ you laughed, anger still to be detected, ‘and now you’re making it worse. Get up and come to the living room before I leave!’

The men in the room found amusement at the scene. A man’s entertainment would always point back to a woman.

‘Are you laughing at my wife?’ The cold voice of Thomas sent an immediate silence in the room, coughs and quiet sorrys filling the now empty silence. ‘The next time someone laughs at my wife, this bullet,’ Thomas held up the bullet, placing it into the revolver, ‘will go through their body and I won’t be cleaning the mess.’

As if the room couldn’t get any quieter, it did. Thomas walked over to Lovelock telling him to continue with the bets placed before his breath finally met yours, a half-worried look on his face.

You sat down at the table, Thomas closing the door to finally give you some privacy.

‘She’s been in trouble again.’

Lily met the eyes of her father. ‘They called me a fucking gypsy, Daddy, so I punched her in the face. It is what she deserved.’ Lily crossed her arms and sat back in her seat, sullen faced.

Thomas however smiled.

‘Nice one, Lily,’ the corners of his lips widened, high fiving here and instantly getting rid of her sad face. ‘Did you make sure your—‘

‘I’m sorry, is this funny?’ You cut in, now in utter disbelief and disappointment as you met Tommy’s gaze which had fallen back to his neutral tone that was driving you to your tipping point. ‘I was denied an education simply because I was a girl. She has the chance and you’re letting her get away with that? Do you not care about Lily’s future?’

‘Of course I care.’ The argument had affected Thomas but he hid it well.

Why he always hid his feelings you would never know. That the war had affected Thomas negatively you knew and experienced, but you missed the old Thomas just a small bit.

‘Really?’ You scoffed, your tongue gliding between your teeth as you fought every urge not to scream out. ‘ ‘Cause it doesn’t fucking seem like you do. Always going on about this fucking betting shop and how we’ll soon leave, day and night! It’s all bullshit, Thomas. We were born into nothing and we will die the same fucking way! My hope in everything has stopped and I don’t know what to fucking do anymore.’ The tears that welled in your eyes blurring your vision.

‘Y/n—‘

‘Don’t,’ you got out of your seat and back away from the table, hiding your tears. ‘I need some fucking fresh air.’ Leaving the two to themselves.

For a while they both said nothing. Silences that appeared too often in the Shelby household, a familiar feeling that one could never escape. Their guilt heavy in their hearts that bled with love for you, the person they loved the most. The woman that did so much for her family when she could only do so little. Going to work with dark circles under her eyes, tired from fixing up Lily’s dress in the early morning hours. Feeding her family, doing the washing, making sure her uniform was clean every single day, even though life was tiring her to the bone.

‘I made mummy really angry didn’t I?’ Picking at the skin around her nails, pain seared through her fingers. ‘I said something mean but I didn’t mean it.’

Thomas’ sigh sat heavy in the air, rough hand massaging his jaw. ‘Me too, Lily,’ He knew he upset you. Anger was a rare sight to see in your eyes. ‘Did mummy ever tell you that she was upset with me?’

‘No,’ staring at nothing, eyes focusing every few seconds. ‘But she cried a lot of nights when you were gone.’

Thomas threw his head back, angry with himself, the word fuck the only thing on his mind.

‘Daddy,’ Lily stood up and sat next to Thomas, her eyes seeking out his comfort. ‘Earlier I told mummy that she doesn’t really work for money and that she depends on you. And how her money doesn’t really support us…’

‘Your mother is a very hardworking person and amazing mother. We both made mistakes and should apologise to her because we love her and don’t want her to be angry.’

She nodded.

‘What about your business, Daddy?’

‘You know I would never lie to you right?’

‘Yeah,’

‘This business is starting to go places,’ his hands rested upon her shoulders. ‘I promise that I will do everything in my power to give you and mummy a better life.’

Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, sweetheart. Don’t you ever forget that.’

‘Tommy, where are you taking me?’ Rough gravel made you lose balance as he pushed you forward.

‘Wait and see, darling.’

You didn’t know where you were, a blindfold had been placed onto your eyes in Small Heath. You knew that you drove for a short while but you actually were a mystery.

‘A few more steps,’ Tommy instructed, the giggles of Lily you could hear from behind. ‘Aaand right here. Okay, stop.’

‘Can I take off the blindfold?’

‘Yes.’ The smell of his cigarette invaded your senses as your fingers moved towards your face.

In front of you stood the prettiest house you had ever seen. Big enough to fit three to four Watery Lane houses in it. The house was surrounded by acres of the greenest grass you had ever seen.

Tears welled in your eyes as Lily jumped up and down in excitement. Rushing to hug Thomas, he stepped back.

‘Before you give me all your love there’s one more thing.’

‘What could you possibly give me after this?’ You laughed wholeheartedly, wet cheeks reflecting the sunlight.

Thomas’ gloved hand disappeared into the pockets of his coat to reveal a notepad and a pencil.

‘What’s this for?’ You accepted the items, confused as to why this was another gift.

‘This notepad and pencil is for your speech you're going to hold this saturday at the opening of the Shelby School Institution for Young and Gifted Girls.’

‘I—, Wha—, Thomas I—‘

‘Girls in Birmingham of all races, class, and everything else that divides us will be able to get free education until the age of 18. You are the founder and owner of the institution. Now let us hurry into the house because we have a meeting with the first new teachers that will teach there.’

‘I love you so much.’ Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck pulling him into a kiss.

Maybe dreams and hopes shouldn’t be given up.

[teenandbeyond]

Think that I could request Gohan relationship headcanons with someone who’s super shy and docile? Thanks in advance!

Gohan x Shy. Reader Headcanons

I was surprised by the request, since usually saiyan-blooded beings go for fiery beings, but I like this twist. Edit: Lol, made the reader shy with random spurts of fieriness, couldn't help it oops Edit 2: Btw y'all know I separate SFW from NSFW for people who might only want innocent stuff or don't like sexual stuff, right? If not, now you know.

Want more from me? Masterlist 2

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

👓Studious👓 (DBZ or Dragonball Z)

Warning(s): SFW and NSFW

Let's just say it's...interesting to have a boyfriend who's half alien.

✨✨✨✨

SFW

Gohan loves how shy you are

It's so cute

You've mostly gotten used to little pecks on the cheek or temple

But anything in public and your body gets all hot

Sometimes he'll feed you, just to get the reaction you always give

Slight embarrassment

But he never fully embarrassed you from anything...only a smidge

You often think he hides sadism under that smile of his

During study sessions more often than not, he'll pull you into his lap while he works

Then came time to meet the family, you were nervous and he was dreading it.

Chichi was nice...intimidating at first...mom jitters, ya know?

But she found you pretty adorable and just interrogated you about your academic abilities, overall nice

Goten broke through your shell of shyness, he was too adorable to not indulge him, besides he was a kid, so he wasn't as intimidating.

Then Goku came home

Well...crashing through a window...but he was home.

No one but you seemed surprised, Chichi was just annoyed.

Your head snapped to Gohan, "This is...normal?"

Goku intimidated you by the middle of dinner when you witnessed how much food he could eat. He kind of teased your quietness, too.

You thought his kindness must have been an act, he must be an evil human black hole or something. No human eats food like that.

Turns out Gohan eats like that too, you supposed he hadn't eaten around you before.

Oh...He's not human? Neither is Gohan completely?

Cue Gohan apologizing for not saying anything sooner or not really planning to until the window thing that couldn't be easily explained.

And you being interested if he had any powers, him saying he wasn't really into fighting as much...only for him to cave and fly with you when he saw your disappointed face.

He might have to take you flying again, your eyes were filled with so much wonder and he got a joyful laugh out of you.

Because you were shy, you hadn't kissed yet.

Seeing Gohan with a girl might have made you a little jealous though...and you might've impulsively kissed him.

Only to hide away in his chest after.

Wait...he wanted to do it again?

At least on dates, he was mutually shy, so you felt a little better

He took great care of you.

Taking care of you when sick or hurt.

Helping you out with your own studies.

Making things together.

Dancing, sometimes in the rain.

And giving you all the affection in the world.

Even though half of it flustered you.

You were absolutely burning when you cuddled.

Or when a kiss got heated for the first time.

And he swears when you stood up for him in front of his family and friends and that unknown fiery part of you came out full force for the first time...

He'd already wanted to marry you, but sheesh, have kids with him, too

He could only smile when you stopped and the fire sizzled out, hiding in his chest away from the wide eyes.

Your occasional spurts of fire really excite the Saiyan part of him.

And oh, did he find you adorable in his clothes

NSFW

Was it mentioned how much he loved your shyness?

It's even cuter behind closed doors in his room

When you look away from his bare chest.

All the little sounds you make and when you try to hide your face.

He likes the power that you let him have.

Sometimes the change in personality overwhelms you in the best of ways.

The first time you decided to go all the way was risky, he was in the process of getting his own place but still lived at home. Chichi was away for errands but got back sooner than he planned. Didn't stop him though, he just told you to keep quiet while he answered her questions from the other side of the locked door to make her go away.

He liked kissing your neck, leaving marks of claim behind.

More often than not he wasn't traditional with the position.

Anything that let him see your face and how expressive it was fine, though.

He preferred to sit with you on his lap.

Surprisingly Gohan can get primal if in a certain mood.

Without those glasses in the way, his bare face seems much more carnal.

But putting aside shyness you find it much more attractive when he has them on, you can't explain it.

He also likes when you dress up in cute outfits.

He can also be evil and make you memorize test questions this way. But hey, you remember the answers!... And the...memorization methods...

Okay...maybe he's a little sadist-y

But he's still very caring and prioritizes your needs first.

But due to your submissive nature, you prefer him to take control

To embarrass you, occasionally he'll surprise you and put you in the position of control. He does his best not to coo when you stutter out demands, but you never last long before relinquishing control to him.

[pottahishotasf]

── 𝓓𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓪𝓵 ──

Tom Riddle x Reader Summary ▻ You are currently dealing with a situation where you are forced to be married and a confession that seemed to change your point of view. Warning(s) ▻ Tom and Mattheo are brothers because I said so. Tom is still a fucking asshole. Feelings. Denial. Mentions of alcohol and someone being drunk. accidental confession. thank you very much. Okay not all purebloods are related. I have to say this because its disgusting I FUCKING HATE INCEST. Word Count ▻ 800+

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ

"I do not like her nor do I give a fuck about her." He sneered at Mattheo.

Mattheo on the other hand just stared at him, his face showed his interest to infuriate his brother further and get him to admit the truth - as it already is visible in his actions - that his brother, somehow never thought about.

"One more word about her, I'm gonna feed you to Nagini."

Mattheo stood up without a single sign of fear as Tom is his brother and he knows him very well.

He does care about you, he doesn't even know how to hide it - the lingering gazes, the longing look he has as he gazes at you from afar, the constant stealing glances that he cannot seem to control.

In plain words, he turns into an incredibly clumsy person - or a dimwit should he say - around you.

Arrange marriage. The situation you're currently in.

It wasn't that bad, especially when you both agreed that you can hook up with whomever you please as long as you return home the next morning.

Every time after a party or some kind of an event, the pair of you would have a sit on the small cushion in your room with a glass of champagne or wine on your hands and normally share each of your last night's experience.

Well, he lies.

He'll admit in his past relationships, he had a ton of sex, but he suddenly stopped when he found out he was in an arrange marriage with you.

And all he wanted to do was to do it with you - do everything with you. not just sex, but also those sweet stuff that couples do.

Although, it seems impossible to hear such a thing especially coming from Tom's perspective - he still cannot deny how bad he wants to have that.

The way he'd love to go down on you each time he gets. He has never been this desperate for a woman and it drives him mad.

And that change of behaviour sure did surprise everyone - even his own brother was surprised by this.

Sure, he was still mean and a fucking ass hole but he wasn't the kind like his past - pulling any woman of his choice and fuck them senseless in a room or preferably just use their mouth in a dim lighted corridor like they're just useless things that he could buy or borrow.

And an improvement that Mattheo would like to include that he haven't seen any woman roaming around the Manor after they had sex or no going to the pub without you.

And he always has the same reason for everything "I want to make them proud." And by 'them' their parents.

He was offended when you didn't look interested the first time you were told about the arrangement. You looked at your parents as if they said something that offended you - so he offered the mentioned idea and you were quick to say yes.

***

Mattheo started teasing him about his relationship with you when:

***

One night, you went to a party with all the guest part of the sacred 28 - meaning, you were required to go.

You wore a black dress that night - his favorite - with a pair of heels that seem to match his clothing.

You were forced to greet each and everyone, kindly - while Tom stood beside you, his face full of seriousness that guests wouldn't even dare to glance at his direction. He nudges your shoulder once in a while to stop you from rolling your eyes.

Later that night, a beautiful woman invited you to their room to play "chess" - however, you didn't accept the offer knowing your fiance would get drunk tonight.

Tom is going to be pissed drunk tonight - don't tell him I told you that.

Thanks Mattheo.

No worries.

Mattheo left early not wanting to be responsible of his brother and carry him to the room the pair of you share upstairs.

***

You spotted him sitting - laying on the couch in one of the rooms - he was alone - passed out drunk.

Getting near him you almost gagged from the musky scent of alcohol.

"Bloody fucking hell, you smell like shit." You muttered. "Come on, get up."

Pulling his limp body up, you groaned and thought about how nice it would be to have Mattheo with you right this instant.

"You're definitely a lovely woman to fuck, but I have a fiancé who I like a lot. She'll get mad and kill you before I even can." He slurred.

"What in Merlin's left ball sack are you talking about?"

"Her name is Y/n. She's really pretty - no, beautiful. I still partly hate her though."

You dropped Tom on the bed and chuckled at his confession as he continued "She has a pair of beautiful eyes and her lips - oh her lips - I would kill to just give it a single bloody peck - Shh - don't tell her that."

Mattheo witnessed all of that, as he was just following behind you, just in case you needed an extra hand.

His eyes were wide as just his smile - he discovered that he was right all along.

His brother did like you.

A/n: This is an update because I haven't been posting and yes. I just taught of this and wrote it like a fucking asshole.

ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ, ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ, ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴇᴇᴅʙᴀᴄᴋꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ!!

@maelycious @slvtfor-gingerpubes @kimorna @dracoslittleangel @honeymunson @raajali3

[thatblackravenclaw]

Oh baby

Masterlist

wolfstar x fem!reader

word count: 943

warning(s): pregnancy, fluff, peter is actually a good guy but barely mentioned.

“Do you ever wonder who he’ll look like?” I ask Sirius.

“Oh, Me. No doubt.” He responds while caressing my stomach.

“Yeah, right.” Remus says from the kitchen.

He walks out and sits on the other side of me.

“He’s obviously going to look like me.” Remus continues.

I roll my eyes at the statement. They’re going to be very upset men when the baby comes out looking like me. He’ll probably have Sirius attitude though.

Something that I will always wonder is who’s sperm got me pregnant. Weird thought, I know, but I can’t help it. Like, who’s sperm was fastest? I bet I could make them argue about it.

“Hey, guys?”

“What’s up babe?” Remus asks.

“Who’s sperm do you think got me pregnant?”

There’s a pregnant (no pun intended) pause.

“Well, it was obviously mine.”

“OBVIOUSLY??!!” Sirius blurts out.

“Yeah? We both know that my swimmers are better than yours.”

And then the argument ensues for the next five minutes. I admit it was very funny at first, but now I’m hungry.

“Who would love to be my favorite husband and get me food?”

“I thought you had no favorites?” Remus states with a smile pulling in the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t, but whoever gets Orion food will be my first official favorite.”

Only a second passes before both of them apparate. About ten seconds later Sirius is back in the room.

“What is it you said you wanted, my love?” He says with an over the top grin.

“I didn’t, but since you actually came back.. I want bangers and mash with exactly 3 bangers from that one in the hole place in London, Butterbeer from The Three Broomsticks, and Ginger Newts from Madam Puddifoot’s.”

He winks at me before apparating again.

I feel a kick as I sing Orion’s favorite song. I can’t help but smile as I continue singing while laying my hand on my stomach to feel him. A few seconds later I feel another kick, but on the other side of my stomach. That can’t be right. Maybe I’m just buggin.

Another kick stops my train of thought. That’s it. I grab the house phone while also grabbing my coat. As soon as my coat is halfway on, I dial Lily’s number.

“Uhm, hi?” Lily says as she picks up the phone.

“Hey babe! What you up to?

“Oh, just was in the bed with James..”

“Baby making?” I ask with a smirk.

“Maybe.” She responds, stretching out the last syllable.

“Aw I’m sorry. Would you hate me so if I asked you guys to wait one more day?”

“A little. Depends on why.”

“I’m kinda, sorta, maybe about to give birth and my husbands aren’t here.

In no time her and James are outside with their car. I sit in the back seat and apologize profusely. I’m surprised we don’t get in a wreck with how fast Lily was driving.

James helps me out of the car once we’re outside of the hospital.

“So.. any chance you guys will name the baby after me if you have a girl?” I poke at James.

“You’re already the godmother.” He says as we walk inside.

“And?”

We walk up to the counter before he can answer. Can’t believe he’s trying to get out of naming their daughter after me.

“Hello! Y/n Lupin-Black. I talked to Doctor Pettigrew on the phone.”

“Right! Just sit in the wheelchair and someone will assist you in a sec.”

It takes but a few moments before I’m being wheeled off to the room.

I sit for about five minutes before I see a head poke through the door.

“How’s my favorite patient?” She asks as she sits on the stool next to the bed.

“This baby isn’t due for another week, Laura.” I respond, clearly irritated.

“So fantastic? Great! We’re just gonna do a quick ultrasound.”

She puts the gel on my stomach and picks up the transducer.

I sigh before speaking.

“How’s Peter?”

“He’s fine. In the break room right now in case you do end up popping tonight.”

“Ha ha.” I express dryly.

As she moves the transducer around my stomach I see her face scrunch up in confusion.

“What? What’s wrong?” I ask. I feel my heart drop to my stomach. It can’t be anything too bad, right? If there was something wrong with the baby.

“Well, pretty lady. It seems like you’re either having twins or an alien with four feet.”

I don’t get enough time to react before I hear rapid footsteps come into the room. Sirius is holding a brown bag while holding Remus’ hand. They look at me and I can’t help the biggest smile from spreading across my face.

“We’re having twins.” I say to them.

“YOU’RE HAVING TWINS??” I hear from the hall.

In comes James and Lily.

“One of them better have my middle name.” James says.

“Just because you have to endure the middle name Fleamont doesn’t mean one of our sons should have to.” Remus says with a laugh.

“I resent that.” James pouts.

“Besides. As much as I appreciate you guys driving me here, I already have their names picked out.”

After 31 hours of labor, I finally get to meet my perfect boys, Orion Reggie Lupin-Black and John Apollo Lupin-Black.

“I must ask.. Why Apollo?” James says as he hold John.

“First moon landing, moon, Remus.”

They all pause and just look at me.

“I’m naming the next one.” He says.

“The next one?? You must be having it. Now, give me my baby since you decided to be mean.”

[hvly]

𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕…hate sex with hanma

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ : Hanma Shuji + F!Reader

✰ - ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ : biting, rough unprotected sex/hate sex, 1 mention of spit, asphyxiation, light degradation, creampie. let me know if i missed any !

✰ - ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 1.7k

✰ -ᴀ/ɴ: i put hearts after some of his sentences because i think it’s funny that they do that for some of his subtitles.

bat shit cray cray ❤︎

“Hurry up so you can get out my house,” you huffed, chest heaving as Hanma pulled himself up lazily from his knelt position on the floor. He dragged his fingers across his lips, an impish smile spreading across his face as he sat himself in between your legs.

“That’s how you say thank you to someone that just made you cum?” he said, tapping your sensitive, puffy clit a few times with the underside of his cock. You twitched slightly, your body still sensitive from your recent orgasm. You mustered up the best glare you could shoot him, trying your best to ignore the steady pulsating in your core.

Hanma mocked your attempted display of contempt by jutting out his bottom lip and knitting his eyebrows together in feigned sadness. “Aww, are you pouting?” he asked, spreading your glistening folds and dragging the length of his shaft between them. “You upset that I didn’t blow a load in your lil pussy first?” His smile quickly found its way back onto his lips upon his words. “It’s okay,” he cooed, condescension heavy in every single one of his syllables. “I’ll fill you up just how you like, okay ❤︎?”

God, you couldn’t stand him.

There wasn’t much to like about Shuji Hanma. He was an apathetic, self destructive adrenaline junkie that only cared about his next high. The world was his playground and the people in it were just toys for him to play with. With no such thing as consequence or concern for others – or himself for that matter – anything and everything that would keep him entertained was all that he really cared about. Everyone and their mother knew he wasn’t worth the time of day and nothing even remotely good would come from situating yourself with him.

You must have been a fool then. Because here you were, legs spread wide with him right between them.

Again.

Hanma pursed his lips, a decent amount of spit falling from them and onto his tip. He rubbed his large palm over his cock head a few times, making sure he was fully lubricated. He prodded at your entrance a couple of times, sticking just the tip inside before pulling it back out, dragging it from your clit to your hole, and repeating the process.

You groaned loudly, increasingly getting frustrated. “I fuckin–” you were cut short when Hanma’s free hand cupped your jaw. His much larger hand squeezed your cheeks together, forcing your lips to slightly part. “Hate me. Yeah, whatever. Come up with something new,” he said, his index finger slipping past your lips and pressing down on the middle of your tongue.

Without a second thought, you brought your teeth down onto the unwelcomed digit. Hanma yanked his hand away with a sharp hiss, his movements coming to an abrupt halt.

“Do it again and I’ll bite it off,” you snorted, thinking that’s exactly what he gets for thinking he ran things and he was in your home. Hanma replaced his injured digits with a lopsided smile as he sat up straight in between your legs.

“You biting now?” he chuckled, pushing his messy blonde and black bangs off of his forehead. He slightly nodded his head to himself, inspecting the imprint your teeth had left on his finger. Before you could really process what he was doing, Hanma had gripped your jaw once again. But this time, there was more pressure behind it.

Not really giving you the option to look anywhere else you noticed he had dropped the obnoxious smile and his golden eyes appeared dark and dangerous. He genuinely looked angry, this being the first time you had ever seen him be so serious. And truth be told, it scared you.

You tried to pull away from his hold on you, your hands pushing and clawing at his wrist and forearm. “I put up with a lot of your shit,” Hanma’s face inched closer to yours, his heavy gaze boring into you. “But let’s get something straight,” he muttered, your face aching from the way his fingers dug into your cheeks and jaw. His lips hovered bare centimeters away from yours, his breath ghosting over them as he spoke. “You don’t bite me. Ever,” he said, each word accompanied with a deep and powerful thrust into your soaked cunt.

You snapped your head to the side, desperately trying to get out of his hold. Hanma turned your head back in his direction, his other hand gripping your leg that was thrown over his shoulder. “Go ahead and do it again,” he said, pressing his index finger over your slightly puckered lips. You kept your lips closed, muffled moans locked behind them. Had he not had the expression he was currently wearing, you would’ve happily obliged. But the burning ache in your jaw and his thrusts that were literally knocking the air out of you helped you decide against it.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought,” he scoffed, moving his hand from your jaw to cover your nose and mouth. You let out a surprised cry, what Hanma could assume were protests being buried underneath his palm. A wicked smile slowly spread across Hanma’s lips, your concerned whimpers amusing.

“Guess you better act right if you wanna breathe, huh?” he said as he continued to fuck harder and faster into you, the lewd sound of his balls smacking against your slick covered ass bouncing off the walls of your bedroom.

Hanma watched you below him as you tried to save what little breath you had. Your eyes were shut tight and he could see the light sheen beginning to cover your forehead. You were obviously trying very hard to keep some type of composure. Absolutely pathetic.

He loved seeing you all disheveled. In his eyes, it humbled you. So full of supposed hatred towards him, carrying yourself in a manner where you think yourself better than him. And maybe you would be, if every encounter you had with him didn’t end the same way. In your bedroom, you crying out his name , asking for more and more, and ending up with a pussy filled to the brim with several loads of his cum.

Hanma wanted to see how far you could go. How much you could take before you would actually say enough. Cupping the back of your knee, he leaned forward. Your eyes shot open, the increased weight of your leg and Hanma leaning into you forcibly pushing the air out of your body. A rush of air escaped from underneath his hand before he felt the skin of his palm being sucked back in slightly.

You squeaked from underneath his hand, shaking your head from side to side in an attempt to loosen his hold and catch a quick breath. A cruel giggle sounded from Hanma as your face became flushed and you squirmed beneath him. “You outta breath already ?” he said, groaning softly as your walls began to tightly clench around him. “Must be trying hard to breathe, huh? You got so tight all of a sudden ❤︎ !”

Tears and balls of white began to blur your vision. It was almost impossible to focus on the ache that was building in your core when your lungs were burning from the lack of oxygen. A mixture of muffled cries and squeaks filled the room as you thrashed around underneath Hanma. You needed air.

Hanma couldn't help but laugh. He had fucked you multiple times before, but this was the first time he was truly having fun. “The little slut wants to breathe, doesn’t she?” he cooed, sliding his hand between your connected bodies and rubbing rough circles on your clit. “Should I let the little slut breathe?” You nodded frantically, hot tears rolling down your cheeks as he piled on sensation after sensation.

With a pinch of your nose, he lifted his hand. You inhaled loudly, followed by several chest rattling coughs. Hanma continued to pound mercilessly into your abused cunt, using his now free hand to palm your tits that were bouncing freely. Loud gasps had soon turned into broken moans and heavy pants as the focus on the lack of oxygen was now shifted on the tight knot building in your stomach.

“Look at how fuckin’ nasty you are ❤︎ !” Hanma said, drinking in your messy expression. Tear stained cheeks, your lips and chin sloppy with sweat and drool, and your eyes clouded with ecstasy. Coupled with the way your cunt was drooling around his cock, he truly was having the time of his life. “You’re coming aren’t you?” he asked, squishing your cheeks together and placing chaste kisses on your lips.

You nodded, having enough breath to form a somewhat coherent sentence. “Gonna cum, ‘m gonna–Shuji!” you cried between pants, your voice raising in octaves as your high washed over you like a gigantic wave. Your hands had found their way to Hanma’s back, your manicured nails digging deep into his skin as you climaxed.

Hanma let out a long, guttural groan from the feeling of your walls fluttering around him and your nails digging into his skin. The combined sensation of pain and pleasure bringing him to his own orgasm soon after yours. With a few more deep thrusts, he painted your insides with thick ropes of his cum. Slowly, he pulled out of your spasming hole with a satisfied sigh.

Spreading your messy folds apart, he watched as his cum began to slowly seep out of you, the white liquid dribbling down your ass and onto the sheets below. Hanma took a glance at you, chest heaving and eyes shut. “What a mess I’ve made ❤︎,” he giggled, lightly slapping the side of your thigh.

As thanks for showing him a good time, he took the liberty of cleaning you up. Just enough so that you wouldn’t wake up with terribly sticky skin the next day. He could be a gentleman like that sometimes. After throwing on his discarded clothes, he took his leave, bounding down the steps of your porch with a light cigarette and a pep in his step.

On your nightstand, he left a simple note.

See you again soon – H. ❤︎

© 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘴𝘰𝘯 2022. 𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺.