#I have no content to offer rn

[thepixarau]

Together we are the Pixar AU

[hinamie]

sidelong

[asgardian--angels]

....idk in a fandom this gigantic how are people already coalescing onto a handful of popular headcanons and scenarios that just become the baseline now, when the source material gives us literally limitless possibilities to work with

[stromulites]

woe, bj shitposts doodles be upon ye

and bash cameo but he's barely there so ill refrain from needlessly mentioning people.

[snekdood]

idk if i agree with the whole "if you post art online it means you want people to like it" thing, i feel more like im tossing it out there as an option for people and hopefully it makes someone happy but even if no one cares about it its still gonna sit there like idrc if people see it. it's like leaving the curtains of my windows open, idrc if you look inside at that moment or not but heres a taste of my life if you do.

[igneouswyvern]

I wouldn't normally be making a post like this but I'm having major withdrawals after having completed Nier Automata and I need to process it somehow so here I am

MAJOR spoilers for all three chapters of Nier Automata under the cut, seriously if you have any slight intention of playing the game do not read

Some of the game's major themes are loss and hopelessness, but the thing I find most interesting is the game's emphasis on partnership, usually just with two people but it occasionally features more than that.

The first time we see this partnership in action is with Adam and Eve right in the very first chapter. And it makes sense. Their namesakes are literally from the story involving the Christian god creating Eve for Adam, the two becoming "one flesh," and essentially being linked up for life. And in the game it is no different. Adam imparts his knowledge onto Eve, and he also "plays with" him. They're shown as two sides of the same coin from the second time you fight them. They're linked. They're inseparable. Imagine what were to happen if something did cause them to be separated? Well, when 2B kills Adam, Eve flies into a blind rage. He can't think. He can't see straight. All he can think to do is to destroy the entire world. And realistically, from his perspective, it makes sense. Adam was his world. Adam was the reason he went on, the driving force to keep him going. Without Adam, who was he? What would he do with himself? His only options were to kill himself, or to kill everyone else. Revenge is a reason to keep going. So he chose revenge.

And at first this seems absurd and childish, but we see this immediately mirrored in the third chapter with 2B and 9S. 2B's death unfortunately comes right after 9S learns that the humans are extinct and everything he's been fighting for is a lie. But it's okay, because as long as he's fighting side-by-side with 2B everything will be okay, won't it? And then he witnesses 2B die, and his entire world is shattered. His response is understandable, really. He has nothing left to live for. He could kill himself, or he could kill everyone else. Revenge gave him a reason to keep going. So he made his goal to destroy every last machine that did this to 2B, and then kill A2, the android who ultimately dealt the final blow to her. It doesn't matter what her reasons were. It only matters that she's dead. And what will 9S do once he accomplishes this goal? Who knows. He certainly doesn't care. And then, at the very end of the final chapter, A2 reveals the truth to 9S. She reveals that 9S was always destined to learn the secret about YoRHa. And she reveals that the only reason he was paired up with 2B was because 2B was destined to kill him once he got too close to the information. They weren't joined by some red string of fate wishing them good fortune. But they weren't joined by accident either. They were joined so that one could kill the other. They were doomed from the start. How foolish of 9S to get so attached.

We don't learn much about A2 in the game proper (unless I missed side lore, which is entirely possible). But it's pretty clear from the hints we picked up that she too had a friend in YoRHa who died. This is presumably why she left YoRHa--why keep fighting for them anyway? Her friend is dead and there's nothing left. A2 too chooses the path of revenge, but somewhere along the way she keeps her sanity, separating her from Eve and 9S. Yet her ways are seemingly aimless. The best explanation she can provide for her intentions to 042 is to kill every last machine lifeform, yet she doesn't really have a plan for accomplishing this at all. Throughout her quest, she wanders aimlessly, going to the desert because of a goliath signal 042 detected, then going to the Resistance Camp because she damaged her fuel part, then going to Pascal's village for the part, and finally wandering into the tower because 042 told her it had been opened. What is she really living for anyway? I doubt she can really say for sure herself.

Speaking of the Pods, these two are also connected. They begin connected by 2B and 9S's connection, but once 2B dies, they shouldn't have any reason to be connected anymore. And yet they still are, sharing data routinely and coming to conclusions. And thus, they continue to be bound, this time by 9S and A2, although it is imperative that they do not come into contact with one another in this instance, because A2 and 9S are highly hostile to one another. And through all the AI nonsense, Pods 042 and 153 do form a bond unrelated to their androids. It makes you wonder what might happen if one were to die.

The theme continues with Devola and Popola. Designed to be twin androids, their sisterly connection is unmatched. They would not be able to keep going without the other. They were ostracized, hated, and attacked, but it doesn't matter, because they had each other. In the end, they both die for the sake of letting 9S enter the tower. 153 points out that one could have survived, but they stayed together and both perished. 9S shuts her down, because he knows exactly why they wished to stay together. Perhaps he wishes he too had died with 2B.

Pascal is one of the few characters to not feature a pair. His duty is rather to the entire village. He imparts knowledge to the children and teaches them how to be peaceful, how to survive. He would risk everything to save even one member of the village. So imagine his despair when the battle is over and he finds that every last one of the children killed themselves out of fear, fear that he taught them. They were his reason to keep on living, and they're dead because of him. He immediately recognizes that he can't live with this reality. He asks A2 to either kill him or delete his memories, because he just can't go on.

While barely relevant to the plot at all, both 2B and 9S's operators show a desire to form a partnership. 2B's operator asks a fellow operator out, and is devastated when she is rejected. 9S's operator expresses a strong desire to start a family. Both missed out on this opportunity.

The commander doesn't come in a pair, but she too is linked up with other individuals. When all of YoRHa is going down, she rejects the chance to escape. What is the purpose of going on when everything you've ever worked for is crashing down around you? Without her soldiers at YoRHa, she has nothing left to live for. She goes down with the ship.

The theme goes even deeper when you look at the side quests. Rescuing the machine's younger sister. Protecting the mother machine's son. Helping a resistance member recover her memories about a deceased loved one. Confirming another resistance member's loved one is dead. Following the wandering couple and helping them survive together. The android who repaired a fallen YoRHa member and pretended he was his own son, because he needed to take care of another person to have a reason to go on. The pair of YoRHa betrayers, one becoming enraged when the other dies, and the captain coming to avenge them both.

The boss of the amusement park, doing anything she can to get the attention of the male machine lifeform, desperate to form a partnership, destroying herself to please him.

The machines in the forest rallying themselves to protect, and then to get revenge for, their king.

Perhaps what really makes both androids and machines human is their need for connection. They can't go on without connection. They will do anything they can to find one other person that they can rely and codepend on. One person that they can protect at all costs. One person they can focus on to strive to keep going. If they have that, they can do anything. But take that away...and what's left is despair and hopelessness. The world can be bleak and desolate and utterly hopeless, but as long as you've got your Person, there's always a reason to keep going. But on the other hand, the world can be beautiful and full of life, but if you don't have a Person, you don't have anything.

This game deals with a lot of themes, but I think the social aspect of the characters in the story is what hit me the hardest.

This got...long...if a single human being has read this, thanks for coming to my TED talk I guess

[arolesbianism]

You see the problem with trying to talk to ppl abt oni lore is that most ppl who have read the logs are like on tier 3 while I'm on tier 7. And most ppl past that can't match my freak because of tier 6 being such a massive hurdle. And I theoretically have the power to make tier 6 stop existing and bridge the gap between layer 5 and 7 but that'd require me single handedly updating the wiki and god damn do I not want to do that

[whytheylosttheirminds]

home for the holidays (part one) - r.c.

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️

summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. It’s gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you over…

content “enemies” to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni

Brodyyy <3: hey thanks again for offering to give me a ride back to nc for break!

You: ofc! anything for u after u gave me those o chem notes bestie

Brodyyy <3: i’m glad to hear ya say that…bc i have one more favor to ask

You: what’s up?

Brodyyy <3: one of my frat bros needs a ride back too, can he join?

You: does he live near us?

Brodyyy <3: he’s from obx but if you get us to my house I can take him the rest of the way in my mom’s car, so no extra driving for you!

You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!

You: as long as i’m home before 6pm on the 21st i’m good

Brodyyy <3: cookie day?

You: exactly, u get me

Brodyyy <3: dw we’ll get you home in time for cookies! Tysm!

You: np!

You: what’s his name btw?

Brodyyy <3: …

You: *questioned* “what’s his name btw?”

Brodyyy <3: rafe

You: be so fr rn

You: as in cameron???

You: Brody, did u seriously invite rafe cameron to drive home with us??

Hour one

You could see your breath, fog filling the air with each shivering exhale as you pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. Even after three-and-a-half years, you’d never gotten used to these North Eastern winters. The plan was to be well on your way towards a milder climate by now, but here you were, leaning against the open hatchback trunk of your car, desperately clutching your hot coffee as you waited for your friend to show up. With his friend. You rolled your eyes as you checked the time on your phone for the hundredth time, none of your many texts to Brody returned.

“Brody, I swear to god,” you mumbled under your breath, “five more minutes and I’m leaving your ass.”

Time ticked on without any sight of him. With a resigned sigh, you reached up to close the trunk.

“Hey wait up!” a voice called from behind you. You whipped around to find its owner.

Standing a few feet back on the sidewalk, sherpa lined corduroy jacket, backpack slung over his shoulder and obnoxiously handsome smirk painted on his face, was Rafe Cameron. Notorious playboy, frat president, and hands down your least favorite person on this campus. 

It wasn’t a big school, everyone knew Rafe Cameron. All of your friends had crushes on him, some of them even managed to hook up with him or have stories of making out with him at frat parties. Every Friday night, he popped up on every Insta story on campus, somehow everywhere at once, and yet your paths had never crossed directly. You were okay with that. You knew his type well enough.

“I’m Rafe,” he interjected when you didn’t greet him.

“I know,” you said dryly.

“My reputation precedes me?” He grinned, his slight southern drawl reminding you of home with a pang of nostalgia, until you remembered that this guy was from a completely different world than you.

“I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” you shot back, slamming the trunk closed. “Where’s Brody?”

Rafe usually gave people about ten seconds before he decided if he liked them or not. A lethal combination of impatience and general distrust that he disguised seamlessly under cocky confidence. Your arms were crossed in hostility as you frowned at him, even though he’d barely said two words to you. 

Ah yes, he knew exactly your type. You were that irritating brand of stuck up smart girl who always saw right through him. Sure, you were surprisingly really pretty, a fact Brody had forgotten to mention, but annoying nonetheless. He decided right then not to like you, since you so clearly had already decided not to like him. 

“He’s not coming,” Rafe informed you. “Didn’t he tell you?”

“No, he didn’t,” you huffed, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he got a gig with a professor to be a research assistant, but he’s gotta stay on campus to do it,” he explained.

“He could’ve told me,” you rolled your eyes, checking the time again to calculate how far behind his no-show had made you. “I’m gonna have to adjust the schedule.”

“The schedule?” He cocked his head, picking up on the tightly wrinkled knot in your forehead as you pulled a folded piece of graph paper from your pocket.

It was color coded and intricate, every mile, every meal, every gas stop accounted for, down to the minute. You had a pencil in your hair, tucked neatly into your messy bun so you could pull it out quickly and make necessary changes, as you were doing now. You held the paper up against the side of your car, erasing and scribbling intensely as you recalculated the trip. 

“I need to be home by six at the latest, it’s nine now, that leaves only an hour for stops and traffic, we were supposed to leave at eight…” you looked up to eye him pointedly as you said the last part, silently blaming him for the delay as you did your mental math.

“Sorry to make you wait, I needed my beauty sleep,” he raised his hands in defense, lips curling back to display his shiny white smile. “You don’t think this all just happens naturally do you?” He gestured to his face.

You tucked the paper back into your pocket as you eyed him up and down, unimpressed and yet simultaneously beginning to understand why all your girlfriends had fallen so easily for this douchebag. He was handsome, sharp features permanently set in an arrogant smirk. His body was tall and lean yet built, enough that you could tell he was muscular even under all those layers. His dirty blonde hair sat messy over his forehead, sticking out at all angles in a way that made it clear he’d just woken up. 

But you were smart, life and your high IQ made you an expert in reading people. You could see right through him.

“I wasn’t waiting for you, I was waiting for Brody,” you shut him down. “And since he’s apparently not coming, I’m gonna hit the road,” you slammed the trunk closed, pulling your keys from your pocket and making your way to the driver’s side door.

You opened the door, fully intending to climb in and drive off on your own, but Rafe appeared quickly by your side, closing the door before you could climb in.

“Woah, woah, wait,” he said, his arm out next to your head to hold the door closed.

You scoffed at his boldness and stepped back, “uhm excuse me!”

“You’re excused,” he smirked down at you. “How am I gonna get home?”

“Greyhound station is that way,” you pointed over your shoulder, trying to push him out of the way of your door, but he was too sturdy to be moved. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, planting himself.

“I’d rather ride with you,” he flashed you a devilish grin you just knew he was used to throwing around like currency.

“Dude, can you just let me into my car?” You shut him down.

“What’s the magic word?” God, did this guy have a punchable face.

“Please,” you reluctantly let out through gritted teeth.

“Hmm, no,” he turned it back on you, planting his feet firmly on the ground, both of you knowing there was no way you were gonna be able to overpower his large frame.

“Okay seriously? I know you’re used to using your body to get what you want, but it’s not gonna work this time,” you were done fucking around, an invisible clock ticking in your mind while your trip was delayed even further by this jackass. “Get away from my car.”

“I will when you agree to give me a ride,” his lips twisted and his voice dropped, aimed down at you, “or we can keep standing here and talking about my body.”

You couldn’t help but blush, and he couldn’t help but like it. The embarrassment at the involuntary response only fueled your anger.

“Why would I do that? I don’t even know you,” it wasn’t entirely true, you knew more than you cared to know about him. Or at least, in this moment, you thought you did.

“Brody said you owe him a favor right? Do it for him,” he suggested.

“If he wanted to cash in on his favor, he should’ve been here himself.”

“Okay then, what if I paid for gas? What was Brody gonna do, go 50/50 with you? I’ll cover the whole trip,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, opening it to flash you his black card. 

You couldn’t help but also notice the polaroids tucked in the see-through pockets. On one side, what appeared to be a family photo; Rafe, an older man and two young girls smiling on a giant boat. On the other side, some sorority girls in bikinis, flashing the camera at a charity car wash. Who the fuck was this guy? 

“Brody was also gonna take you the rest of the way to the Outer Banks. I’m going west and there’s no way I’m getting on a ferry, how are you gonna get home?” You reasoned, though he could hear in your tone that you were starting to actually consider saying yes. 

Time to bring it home, he thought.

“I’ll figure it out. Just get me to the ferry and I’ll be fine. I’ll be eternally grateful, I’ll owe you a big favor. And I never do people favors.”

“The more you talk, the less I want to be stuck in a car with you for eight hours,” you said. 

Dammit, his plan backfired. But he hadn’t missed the way you eyed the picture of him with his dad, Sarah and Wheezie in his wallet. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“Please? All flights are sold out and I’d really like to see my little sisters for Christmas,” he blinked his wide blue eyes, mustering up all the sincerity he could find.

Family was your weak spot, you wondered if Brody had told him that. As much as you truly did not want to get in this cramped, two-door car with him, you felt bad picturing the two little girls waiting patiently for their big brother to come home for Christmas. Ugh.

With a deep sigh, you finally said, “fine.” 

Rafe slapped his hand on the car’s roof in celebration, reveling in his victory as he finally stepped away from your door.

“I’ll get you to the ferry and that’s it,” you qualified, trying to dampen his enthusiasm. “I need to be home by six, if I’m late you’re gonna owe me a lot more than a favor.”

He crossed his fingers over his heart solemnly, “scout’s honor!”

“You can throw your stuff in the backseat,” you instructed, your trunk already full to the brim with presents for your family.

“What, you got too much junk in your trunk?” He chuckled at his own joke as he jogged around to the passenger’s side.

You rolled your eyes hard as you climbed in the driver’s seat. This was gonna be the longest eight hours of your life.

Hour two

The heat in your car was cranked at full blast, but you were still shivering as you drove. This car was a hand-me-down from your dad, it got you back and forth to school, but left plenty to be desired in the way of amenities.

Based on the designer watch he was wearing and his Gatsby-esque reputation, you were pretty confident this was the least fancy car Rafe had ever been in.

“Sorry about the rattling,” you said, needlessly gesturing toward the dash, which shook steadily with the hum of the engine. “She’s a good car, but she’s got creaky bones.”

“It’s cool,” he shrugged, pulling a pack of gum out of his coat pocket.

“I’m sure the G-wagons you’re used to don’t shake when you accelerate.”

Rafe popped a piece of gum in his mouth, snapping it obnoxiously between his teeth as he looked over at you, head cocked in observation.

“You don’t like me,” he surmised simply.

Your mouth fell open slightly, startled by how directly he clocked you, “I- I barely know you.”

“Then why do you roll your eyes everytime I open my mouth?”

“Maybe I just don’t like what you have to say.”

His eyes narrowed, considering this for a moment before deciding, “nah, I think it’s something else. Did we have a class together or something?”

“No, just a couple mutual friends,” you smiled the fakest of smiles.

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Girls you’ve ghosted mainly,” you said.

“Whaaat, me? Ghost someone? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he smirked.

“Yeah right,” you shook your head with an incredulous laugh that only widened his grin. “You know exactly what I mean, you ghost them and then you gaslight them that you were never a thing to begin with. We call it the Rafe Cameron special.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never done that,” he said.

“That’s such bullshit, this girl in my hall freshman year showed me all your texts, you totally gaslit her.” 

“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.

You almost took the bait, mouth opened indignantly to argue again before you finally caught onto his game and the growing prideful smirk on his face. He was fucking with you.

You turned the music up, blocking him out as he chuckled under his breath in the seat next to you, ever so pleased with himself.

“Oh, c’mon, lighten up,” he tilted his body toward you, his long legs cramped in the small space of your front seat. 

He placed his hand on the back of your headrest, his arm easily reaching the distance between you. 

“It’s college, it’s not that serious. Everybody’s hooking up and breaking up. I mean, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of flings,” his eyes ran up and down your body with that final remark.

You stumbled over your response. You weren’t necessarily a shy person, but you didn’t walk around discussing your personal life as openly as he apparently does. 

“I…can you stop looking at me like that please?”

“Looking at you like what?” He grinned, feigning innocence.

“Like you know me at all.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he nodded. “Though I think I’ve pretty much figured you out.”

“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah, I mean, I have my guesses at least…”

“Please, share with the class,” you turned the radio down to better hear his absurdity, sure that he was full of shit.

“You were top of your class in high school, graduating with a…3.97 GPA,” he began. “You got in automatic acceptance to a bunch of state schools but you insisted on going to your reach, which thrilled your parents I’m sure. College isn’t as easy as high school, but you’ve settled around an A minus average final grade. You’re not in a sorority, I would’ve seen you at a mixer, but you’re definitely in some organized groups. Not sports, that’s not practical enough, it’s gotta be something where you can do some networking. Brody said you’re what, pre-med? So you’re probably in some kind of medical honors society. I bet you’ve had only one serious boyfriend, maybe a long distance high school sweetheart, but you’re too focused on school to make that work so you dumped his ass. A few hook ups since then, but nothing real. How am I doing?”

Your eyes were glued to the road, face gone ashen as he continued to nail correct guess after correct guess.

“My high school GPA was 3.98 actually,” you said weakly. “And I don’t like this game.”

Rafe had never been more smug, beaming triumphantly at your confirmation of all his assumptions.

“Don’t worry, I’m done playing,” he leaned forward to take off his coat, balling it up to use as a pillow so he could lean his head on the window. “Wake me up when at the next scheduled stop, will ya?”

“No promises,” you grumbled, making him smile as he drifted off to sleep.

Hour three

Bright red brake lights glowed in a line stretched out in front of you for a mile. You sighed deeply, your foot sore from holding down the brake for a full ten minutes. Resigned, you finally gave in and put the car in park, eyeing the clock on the dash anxiously.

Rafe snored. Loudly.

You shot him a bitter glare as he sat passed out in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the stop-and-go traffic jam you had gotten stuck in, enjoying his free ride and interrupting your music with his loud snores. Out of spite, you leaned forward and turned up the radio until your music was practically blaring through the speakers.

Somehow, like even in his sleep he knew how to push your buttons, he started snoring louder. You turned the music up as high as it would go, singing along at the top of your lungs until he finally started stirring, eyes blinking open. You quickly turned down the music, stifling a laugh at the confused, grumpy look on his face.

“We’re not moving,” he mumbled, groggily taking in your surroundings.

“You have great observational skills,” you teased him.

“You didn’t think to account for traffic on your little itinerary?” He said smugly.

“I did,” you defended yourself, “just not until we passed through DC. This part of I-95 isn’t usually so packed.”

Rafe sat up in his seat, not having much room to stretch out his legs but trying anyway. He watched the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, nervously tapping your hands on the steering wheel.

“So what’s happening at six o’clock?” He asked, trying to pull you from your anxious thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Before we left, you said you had to be home at six. What’s at six?” 

“Oh, uh, it’s kind of silly actually, you wouldn’t get it,” you sat back in your seat, finally accepting that the car in front of you wasn’t moving anytime soon.

“Try me,” he said.

You looked at him, trying to decide if you wanted to share and risk his getting his rude opinion on something so special to you. But you were hungry, and tired, and stressed, and honestly, after a few too many hours in his charismatic orbit, you were looking for more reasons not to like him.

“It’s because of cookies,” you admitted.

“Cookies?” He cocked his eyebrow, trying to maintain his non-judgemental stance.

“My mom makes these gingerbread cookies that are literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted. They’re so good, she makes them every christmas, but she only makes one batch. It’s an old family recipe her mom left her when she passed away and my mom said she isn’t supposed to give it to me until she’s…gone…”

You paused to swallow hard, like there were more words fighting their way out. Feeling a little too vulnerable with Rafe’s eyes on you, you pushed them back down. 

“…anyway, I have three younger brothers, and they get home from their practices at six. The second they walk in the door, they’ll attack those cookies and there won’t be any left for me. So I need to get home before them or I’ll have to wait a whole year for more cookies.”

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he decided whether or not he was gonna tease you.

Finally he landed on, “gingerbread, really? They can’t possibly be that good.”

“Oh no, believe me they really are. I’m not usually into gingerbread either but these are seriously the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up, smirking at you from his side of the car. It took a second for you to hear your own double entenadre. 

“Oh shut up,” you laughed, reaching over to swat his arm.

“I didn’t say anything!” He pretended to wince, rubbing the spot on his arm you’d hit dramatically. You flexed your hand, surprised that it stung a little, his arm firmer than you were expecting. 

“You question the cookies and then you mock me,” you shook your head. “I should make you get out and walk the rest of the way.”

“No, no!” He chuckled. “I would never question the cookies. I’m sure they’re delicious. Don’t make me walk.”

You zeroed your eyes in on him, “fine. You're safe. For now.”

He wiped his forehead playfully, mouthing a silent ‘phew!’

After a few minutes, traffic started moving again, though painfully slowly. Rafe was drumming along to the radio on the dashboard, growing more impatient by the second. His fidgeting reminded you of a bored toddler.

“Why can’t you mom just make more cookies?” He blurted out.

Your grip tightened on the wheel as sudden brake lights ahead of you forced you to slam on your own brake yet again. This was the direction you were hoping the conversation wouldn’t head in.

“She, uh…she just makes the one batch,” you tried to shrug the question off, but he was too busy tapping away and shifting in his seat to notice your growing discomfort.

“I mean how long can it take? A couple hours maybe? I bet she could just -”

“She just can’t, okay?” You snapped, your growing irritation with the traffic jam making the words come out a little sharper than you’d intended. You took a deep breath when his eyes snapped toward you, “sorry. She just…she can only make one.”

Rafe nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he returned his attention to his phone, typing rapidly.

“Alright then, take the next exit,” he said.

“What?”

“In a half mile on the right, take that exit,” he repeated.

“Why?” you asked.

“I found a faster route,” he explained. “Let’s get you those cookies.”

Hour four

Rafe was right, the alternate route he found for you had caught you up to schedule, even putting you about twenty miles ahead of where you expected to be by this point.

With the made up time, Rafe finally convinced you to stop for food, and, after several minutes of arguing, to let him drive the next stretch.

It was amazing how much your mood improved with some food in your system. Now that you weren’t the one behind the wheel, it was you shuffling restlessly in the seat, unfolding and refolding your schedule and refreshing the GPS on your phone every couple of minutes. 

“In one hundred and twenty two miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and twenty miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and nineteen miles-“

“Veer left! It’s gonna keep saying the same thing every time, you really don’t need to keep refreshing it,” Rafe grunted.

You shot him a glare, making a show of turning your phone off and tucking it in your pocket. 

“Remind me why you couldn’t just drive yourself?” You snarled. “What, is the Beamer in the shop?”

“It’s a Range Rover, actually,” he corrected you, pulling forth yet another eye roll from you as you mumbled ‘of course it is.’ “And yes, actually, it is.”

“Ah, you pimping your ride?”

He snorted, “what is it 2005? No, I, uh, totaled it, actually.”

“I knew I shouldn’t let you drive,” you winced, grabbing the handle above the passenger door theatrically.

“Relax, it wasn’t my fault,” he assured you.

“Let me guess, the other driver was so blinded by your dazzling smile that they crashed right into you?” 

“There was no other driver,” he said, smirking with a sidelong glance in your direction. “Glad to know you think my smile is that powerful though.”

You regretted your word choice immediately, your brain was working so fast to deflect his charm you had lost the plot a bit. You scrambled to put the focus back on him so he wouldn’t see the way you were blushing.

“Okay so what’s the story then?” You asked.

“It’s really not that interesting. I was driving around campus and there was something in the street, I swerved and hit a tree, that’s it,” he reached to turn the radio a little louder, your eyes narrowing at the avoidant tone he’d adopted.

“You saw ‘something?’ What ‘something’ did you see?” You pressed, amused by his discomfort.

“Just, uhm, an animal in the road,” he said dismissively.

You nodded, a little “ah” leaving your lips as you returned your gaze to the window. You tapped your fingers on your thigh to the beat of the song. You wanted to know more, he knew you wanted to know more. The tension broke quick.

“What kind of animal was -”

“Ohhh my god, you’re so nosy, it was-“ he cut himself off momentarily to lower his voice, “it was a bunny alright?”

Your laugh was immediate and loud, head falling back at the image he’d conjured for you.

“Alright, it’s not that funny but whatever,” he rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the little curve of his lips at the pretty sound of your unguarded giggles. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said between laughs, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “it’s not funny. It’s nice. You crashed your Range Rover trying to save a little rabbit. I just didn’t expect Rafe Cameron to break for bunnies, it’s very cute.”

Rafe never got flustered, he practically majored in flirting, it never phased him. So why the fuck was he blushing like a little kid right now?

Get your shit together, Cameron, he thought, she’s just some girl.

“So you and Brody, y’all sleeping together or...?”

Your laughter stopped dead in its tracks, head snapping towards him as your jaw slammed shut.

Pointedly not answering him, you grabbed your Coke from the cupholder and took a long sip.

“Is that a yes?” he continued. 

“Not that it’s any of your business,” you cut him off, fiddling with the straw, “but no, we’re just old friends.”

Long gone was the playful air of the bunny story. Unable to recover and get a positive reaction from you, he figured he might as well dig himself deeper. In for a penny…

“But, c’mon, you’re saying you two have seriously never…”

“Ew no, he’s literally like my brother,” you shut him down. “Why do you care so much? You jealous?”

Fuck, he hadn’t meant to give you the upper ground, he needed to level the field. 

“You just seemed pretty upset when you found out he wasn’t coming is all. Like, I dunno, a woman scorned and all that…”

“Have you considered it’s because I realized I was gonna be stuck in a car alone with you for eight hours?”

Thoroughly pissed off, you sank down in your seat and continued sipping your Coke, avoiding looking at him by counting the mile markers on the side of the highway. 

Rafe looked over at you, taking in the flex of your jaw as you stewed. He usually didn’t give a fuck if his words offended people. He preferred it, actually. But something about the shape of your smile and the sound of your laughter made him wish you were always happy. He felt like shit for making it go away, then he felt like shit for feeling like shit given his decision not to like you.

His eyes stayed on you for longer than they should, studying the shape of your silhouette in the soft light of the December sun. 

“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.

Rafe’s eyes shot forward and he realized with panic that he’d been veering off the road, the front of the car dangerously skewed in the direction of the metal guard rail. 

“Fuck!” 

He cut the wheel hard, overshooting his correction and causing the car to jerk sharply to the left. In your concern, you gripped your drink so hard the lid came off, your ice cold diet coke splashing out of the cup and all over you.

Rafe redirected the car until it was back in the correct lane, but you were already covered in diet soda. Coke dripped from your hair onto your face, your mouth hung wide open in shock and fury.

“Shit, my bad,” Rafe said, reaching in the fast food bag for some napkins.

He started dabbing it completely unhelpfully at your shoulder and you ripped the napkin from his hands.

“This is my favorite shirt, ugh what the fuck Rafe!” You scolded him, trying to use the napkins with very little luck, the shirt was definitely ruined.

“I said I’m sorry! Jesus calm down, it’s not like I did it on purpose,” he huffed at you, hating that he liked how you said his name, even when you were yelling at him.

“No of course not, you never do anything on purpose,” you quipped.

It took everything in him not to snap back with a “you don’t even fucking know me,” but he remained silent. Biting his tongue was a new taste to him, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t like the feeling of you being pissed at him either. Today was a day of firsts.

“We’re gonna have to stop so I can get a new shirt from the trunk,” you said.

Eager to return to familiar territory, he jumped at the opportunity to antagonize you, shaking his head and tsking condescendingly, “no can do, there’s no stops on the schedule for an hour.”

“Okay well this is obviously an extenuating circumstance,” you argued.

“So was me wanting to stop at that outlet mall to get presents for my family, but we didn’t stop then,” he countered.

“Right, because those things are comparable,” you scoffed. “It’s not my fault you waited until the last second to do your Christmas shopping.”

You were right, but he still resented the know-it-all tone in your accusation.

“Well I’m the driver and I say we’re sticking to the schedule,” he doubled down.

“So I’m just supposed to sit here covered in soft drink for the rest of the trip?”

“I have an old sweatshirt in my bag you can borrow,” he offered.

The urge to continue fighting with him until he agreed to pull over was strong, but the urge to get out of the cold, sticky shirt was stronger. With a sigh, you climbed into the backseat and dug through Rafe’s bag until you found a soft, worn out hoodie with a logo on the front that said “Kildare Academy Lacrosse” and on the back “Cameron #44.”

You reached down to peel off your shirt, looking up first to catch Rafe watching you through the rear view mirror. Your hands paused on the hem, giving him a steely look.

“Uh, a little privacy please?” 

His eyes continued flicking between you and the road, “I just wanna see if you found the right sweatshirt,” he claimed.

You let out an indignant tsk, mouth open in disbelief when he gave you a little wink through the mirror. You reached forward and smushed your hand into his cheek, pushing his head back toward the road. He bit his bottom lip, trying to play nonchalant as you stripped off your shirt just inches behind him. He might act like a playboy, but he did actually have enough respect not to look at you while you changed.

Still, keeping his eyes on the road meant seeing the fuzzy form of you in his peripheral vision. The general hue of your skin tone and the swift movement of you pulling your shirt over your head sucked some of the air from his usually puffed-out chest. He felt like he was twelve years old, the way just the thought of you shirtless in the backseat made his hands clammy and his heart pick up speed. He needed to get a grip.

The sweatshirt was about two sizes too big but so warm and comfortable you didn’t care. You expected it to smell like some cheap cologne or boy sweat, but instead it smelled like something sweet and inviting - fabric softener, you realized with a grin. You’d tease him for that later.

Hour five

Somewhere in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia, your gas light came on. You agreed to let him drive for another fifty miles after a quick gas station pit stop, planning to take the allotted thirty minute nap you’d mapped out on your schedule before driving the rest of the way.

Rafe paid for the gas, as promised, and stood by the car as he filled your tank. You never did get to finish your Diet Coke, so you ran inside to grab another while he pumped.

“That’ll be $2.79, dear,” the cashier told you, her southern accent and charm a tell-tale sign that you were nearing home.

With a smile, you pulled out your debit card and held it out for her to swipe.

“Sorry sweetheart, there’s a five dollar minimum for cards,” she informed you politely.

“Oh, okay,” you looked around the counter for something to add, swiping some knick-knacks from their display to round up your bill.

----❄----

The car door slammed as Rafe climbed back in next to you, balling up the receipt for the gas and tossing it into the backseat.

“How much was it?” You asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, turning the key as the engine sputtered to life. 

You shouldn’t feel bad, he offered to pay, and you were technically the one doing him a favor. Still, you were raised by blue collar parents, ‘neither a borrower nor a lender be’ and elbow grease was gospel in your home. You felt like you needed to give him something.

“Here,” you passed him the bag of trinkets you’d bought inside.

Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.

“What am I supposed to do with these?” He laughed as he pulled the items out of the bag.

“You could…give them to your sisters,” you suggested.

“What are they gonna do with a Thomas Jefferson snow globe and a bumper sticker that says ‘Virginia is for Lovers’?”

“Well it’s better than a slip of paper that says ‘IOU one christmas present,’” You teased him.

“Y’know what? Very true,” he nodded, tucking the bag of goodies in the backseat and pulling out of the gas station. 

The drive was silent for a few minutes. You leaned forward, resting your arms on the dash as you watched the emerging silhouette of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the far horizon. It was all getting so close; a crackling fire, drinking hot cocoa while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas with your brothers, decorating the tree, those gingerbread cookies…

“What are you smiling about?” Rafe’s voice interrupted your revelry.

“I’m just excited to get home and see my family,” you said with a happy smile. “Aren’t you?”

It was such a foreign concept to him he almost laughed. He was still playing the angle that he was desperate to get home to his family so you’d give him a ride. He couldn’t tell you the truth; that he wasn’t sure anyone at his house even remembered he was coming, that Christmases in the Cameron house for the last decade were more about the pictures his father could put on the cards he sent to clients than they were about celebrating, or love. 

“Uh, yeah, ‘course,” he said, hoping you’d drop it. 

You didn’t.

“Does your family have any traditions?” 

“Like what?” He knew what you meant, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie, the truth sitting on his chest in the uncomfortable way he spent his life trying to avoid.

“Like, okay,” you started. “Me and my brothers always sleep in the living room on Christmas Eve. We get all the pillows and blankets in the house and make a big pile in front of the fireplace and keep the fire going all night so we can stay up to try and catch Santa.” 

“How’s he gonna come down the chimney if you keep the fire going?” Rafe questioned logically.

“Oh Rafe, I’m so sorry I have to be the one to tell you this…but Santa isn’t real,” you placed your hand on his arm like you were trying to console him. 

He let it linger for a minute before shaking you off, “you know what I meant!” he grumbled, making you laugh. The sound was so sweet it made him dizzy.

“What else do you do?” He asked impulsively, surprising both you and himself with his desire to hear you keep talking.

“Well, you know about my mom’s cookies, and we always drink cocoa with peppermint sticks, and oh! Me and my dad used to cut down a real tree together the day after Thanksgiving- I’m sure they’ve already gotten it this year since I wasn’t home- but we’d always decorate it together, just the two of us, while listening to his old Bing Crosby vinyl.”

It sounded so nice, so idyllic and comforting, like a Hallmark card. Jealousy roared in his chest, hoping you couldn’t see it on his face as he pictured the much colder, tension filled holiday that was awaiting him.

“Didn’t Bing Crosby used to hit his kids?” He blurted out coldly, the holly jolly joy in the car becoming a little too much for him to handle.

Your face soured, lips twisted as he burst your bubble. 

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” you mumbled. Even when he was being an ass, you were being cute. It was killing him. “Not a Christmas guy, huh?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be napping right now?” He brushed off your question.

“I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t drive so grumpy.”

“I’ll be fine. Your thirty minutes is slipping away, though.”

“Okay fine, but don’t forget to wake me up when we cross the state line,” you reminded him.

“I know, I know. Are you always this bossy?” He snipped, his sudden coldness making you wish you’d never opened up to him about your family to begin with.

With a final, pointed look at him, you pulled the strings of his sweatshirt to cover your eyes and sank down into the seat. 

“Bah humbug,” you threw at him before drifting off to sleep.

Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice. 

Hour six

In your dream, you sat alone at your kitchen table, your dad’s Bing Crosby vinyl skipped on the record player as you cried over an empty plate, not a single crumb of gingerbread left…

Hour seven

The world was moving outside the windows, the early darkness of winter making the scene blurry, but you could tell the car was definitely still moving.

And Rafe was out cold in the driver’s seat.

“Oh my god!!” 

You shot up in your seat and grabbed the wheel, sure that you were about to go flying off the road any second. But the wheel was locked, and there was no engine’s rumble shaking the dash. The car was off. 

You blinked, your groggy mind finally catching up with reality. You weren’t driving, you were floating. The choppy ocean crashing against the side of the ship spraying little droplets of water on your windshield.

“Oh my god,” you repeated with a groan, this time less panicked and more pissed.

Rafe woke up with your body stretched across his lap, gripping the wheel as you groaned.

“Hi,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile, completely misreading the situation.

You sat back in your own seat and hit him on the shoulder, hard. 

“Oww, what the hell?” He sat up, rubbing his arm.

“Where the fuck are we?” You barked at him.

“We’re in your car on the way home,” he avoided the true answer. 

“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”

“And would ya look at that? You did!” He smiled sheepishly.

With scarily accurate comedic timing, the ship’s horn blared loudly, leaving no doubt.

“Rafe, we’re on the ferry!” You yelled, smacking him again.

“Would you stop hitting me please?! We were making good time and you looked so peaceful sleeping so I figured we’d just hop the ferry real quick and you’ll still make it home by six.”

You checked the time on your phone, eyes widening with realization.

“Just barely! At this rate I’ll be walking in the door at 5:58,” you argued.

“And just think of how many cookies you can eat in two minutes if you really put your mind to it,” he grinned at you. You were having none of his boyish charm this time, back to being a card carrying member of the “I Hate Rafe Cameron” club.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.

“Okay, well can it wait until we’re on dry land? I get seasick and I want it to be a fair fight.”

He wasn’t letting up on the flirting, and you weren’t giving in. The rest of the boat ride was painfully quiet.

----❄----

“It’s just up here on the right, that metal gate,” he assured you as he approached his home, still trying to convince you that you had plenty of time.

Headlights bounced off the high white walls of his estate as the car pulled up. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“What is it?” He questioned.

“I knew you were probably rich, y’know based on your whole…” you gestured vaguely to him, “...thing. But holy shit.”

He grinned, “yeah it’s alright I guess.”

“Oh whatever,” you laughed. “It’s like a fucking castle!”

With a final left turn, he pulled into Tannyhill, the giant house completely dark at the end of the long drive. Rafe’s face fell slightly as he drove up, but he pushed the disappointment down when he felt your eyes on him.

“Home sweet home,” he said, feigning holiday cheer.

He put the car in park and grabbed his stuff from the backseat. You both got out, stopping in front of the car so he could hand you the keys.

“I should change so you can have your sweatshirt back,” you said.

“Nah you can give it back to me at school, I’ve delayed your schedule long enough.”

You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.

It was strange, you felt like you’d known him much longer than eight hours and yet you weren’t quite friends…you weren’t enemies either, but definitely not friends. How is one supposed to say goodbye to a non-enemy/non-friend? You settled on holding out your hand to shake. Rafe just looked down at your palm, huffing a laugh at the gesture.

“Well,” you shrugged, smiling back, “Merry Christmas I guess?”

He took your hand, giving it a firm shake and a squeeze, “yeah, Merry Christmas I guess.”

With a nod, you stepped around him and got back into your car, pulling up your GPS and entering your home address. So long as the ferry was still running on schedule and there wasn’t too much traffic, you’d get home with about five minutes to spare.

You put the car in reverse and got ready to back out of the driveway. You tried to keep your eyes fixed on the rearview, but you couldn’t help but steal one last look at Rafe as he walked through his front door.

Only, he wasn’t going inside. Or maybe he couldn’t go inside? He stood at the front door shaking the handle and having a very animated conversation with someone on his phone. Something wasn’t right.

Even though you knew you shouldn’t, you cracked your window slightly to hear the phone call. His back still turned to you, Rafe didn’t notice you could hear him and kept talking, loudly…

“The Bahamas? Are you kidding me?...I can’t believe you guys just left without me...well I wasn’t and then I got a ride…this could’ve been avoided if you’d just sent the jet like I asked…since when are you concerned about that?...well what the hell am I supposed to do now?!” 

The last question was said with a raised voice, aggression seeping into his tone. He made like he was about to say something else, but was cut-off, his shoulders falling as the voice on the other end got so loud that it carried all the way to your car. You couldn’t make out the words, but whoever he was talking to was clearly shouting even louder than Rafe had just been.

“Y-yes sir…I’m sorry…yes sir…no sir…okay I will…I lo-”

The phone beeped three times and the screen went black. Rafe stared down at it for a second before slipping it in his pocket and lifting a rock close to the door, retrieving a small silver key. As he raised it to the doorknob, his eyes caught yours in the reflection of the glass.

“You should get going,” he said, turning and noticing your window cracked. “You’re gonna miss your cookies.”

Fully busted for eavesdropping, you rolled the window the rest of the way down, “did they…are they not home?”

“Nah, they decided to spend Christmas in the Bahamas,” he explained.

“Oh. So you’re just gonna be here, like, alone?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m not a Christmas guy anyway, remember?” He gave you a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Are-are you sure? You could…” You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say it. Were you really gonna offer for him to come home with you? You barely knew him, surely you couldn’t bring him home for Christmas. 

The offer fell dead on your lips, but Rafe knew where you were going with it, the pity in your voice a little too much for his pride.

“I’m really fine,” he said, nodding his head toward the road, “you should get back on the road. You’ve got a schedule to keep”

You gave him a soft smile as you put the car back into reverse, feeling guilty the whole way out of the driveway.

----❄----

Turning the Christmas radio station up, you tried to focus on gingerbread cookies as you waited in the long car line to get back on the ferry. 

He wasn’t your friend, in fact, he was kind of an asshole to you all day. You didn’t owe him anything. Plus, he surely wouldn’t be comfortable at your little house in the country. Not when he was used to all the flash of this island, the one his family seemingly owned based on all the signs with their name on it you passed on your short drive. No, he’d be fine. You’d get your cookies and he’d be fine.

“Ma’am,” the Ferry ticketing attendant tapped on your window to get your attention. 

You sighed deeply as you looked at the big ship, then down to your GPS, telling you there was only a minute to spare if you were gonna get home on time. 

Home. Yours, warm and full of love. His, empty and dark.

“We’ve got a schedule to keep,” the attendant urged. “Are you boarding or not?”

----❄----

The house was still dark but for one light glowing through an upstairs window.

You knocked three times, Rafe’s confused face finally appearing behind the glass. He opened the door with a questioning furrow of his brow. His bag was still packed, sitting right inside the door. You reached down to grab it, throwing it over your shoulder as you said, 

“You owe me a cookie.”

(part two)

a/n: merry everything! I had so much fun writing this! There will be 3 more parts, just a lil present from me to you <3 there will be some hurt, but mostly comfort and a stocking full of fluff!

for updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs. to be tagged, just ask in the replies or send me an ask!

taglist: @itneverendshere @rafediaries @promiscuousg1rl @eolsens @inlovewrafe

[littlecrittereli]

GGYTTYSSS AHREKJRHA. RERHRHRH R RR R R A R R RA R R you guys bring my visions to life so well its incredible. im FOAMING AT THE MOUTH EATING THIS OUGHH

binge read reprogrammed n decoded by @littlecrittereli a few days ago :3

its very neat -u-

so made fanart :D

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 6 OF REPROGRAMMED

TW BLOOD, PANICKNG

(The blood part is brief with only a lil bit on the 1st page, there's nothing super graphic but just a lil heads up)

Please be safe <3

[trumanbluee]

you're the one that i want - deadpool / wade wilson

minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!

please reblog if you like it! ᡣ𐭩

based on this request! <3

content: three words, baby! the honda odyssey!

word count: 2.5k

warnings: established relationship, no mention of condom (wrap it b4 u tap it!), petnames galore, deadpool is a warning in of himself lol.

a/n: the deadpool brainrot has been so strong recently so thank u guys so much for all ur requests! my return to my deadpool era couldn't have come at a worse time with my exams happening rn but i will try and write as much as i can! love you!

You'd been sitting in the backseat of the "fuck-ass Honda Odyssey", as Wade had described it, arm resting on the centre console, your head propped up on your palm lamely as you turn it left to right, half-listening to Wade and Logan argue like you're at a tennis match.

You'd almost flown forward into the front of the car when it came to an abrupt stop, tyres screeching as you let out a soft yelp in surprise. Wade hears you, and wordlessly pushes you back softly. You'd heard something spat out from Logan, along the lines of "You'll never save the fucking world!", followed by Wade's voice saying, "I'm gonna fight you now." and then the sound of a sickening crunch as he punches Logan in the nose.

It's milliseconds before you see your boyfriend's arm reach back and open your door, gently ushering you out with a soft, "Why don't you go for a walk, pretty girl?"

You know better than to argue, especially with Logan seething in the front seat, so you hop out of the car, shutting the door behind you as you trudge off into the trees, half grateful for being kicked out of the car so you didn't have to listen to Logan's grumbles when you inevitably had to ask him to pull over so you could pee.

You could hear the yelling and grunting in the distance, shaking your head as you hear the faint shatter of glass, followed by a - less than masculine - squeal from your boyfriend. You laughed to yourself, not worried in the slightest as you hear the fighting between the two, Logan's growls echoing through the trees as he squelches his claws into your boyfriend's stomach.

You'd told Wade to give Logan a break, and that eventually he would find out about his 'educated wish', but he hadn't listened, instead continuing to push and push and push Logan until, expectedly, he reached his breaking point.

You wandered around amongst the trees for a while, before slumping against a tree not too far from the car, your eyes growing heavy as you listened to the soft rustle of the leaves above you.

You wake up groggily, looking around the room as you rub sleep from your eyes. You startle when a red suit appears in front of you, but it's not the Deadpool suit that you're all too familiar with.

"I'm Elektra, that's Gambit," the woman points to a man in a helmet, who's stood in the corner, playing with cards, "and that's Blade," she points over her shoulder with her thumb to the man in a long, leather trench-coat.

"I.. uhm.. Hi?" you say, taken aback by this sudden bombardment of strangers.

"We're helping you and your friends get out of the void." Elektra explains, offering her hand to help you stand up. You take it gratefully.

"...Oh, cool..." you say, still groggy from being asleep for so long. "..are.. are they around?"

Elektra nods, pointing outside with her head, "Yellow's by the fire, Red's... around here somewhere."

You nod, thanking her and smiling awkwardly at Blade and Gambit as you walk outside, the smoke from the fire consuming your nostrils as you step out. You spot Logan by the fire, but see that he's sitting with someone.

'She looks an awful lot like that X-23 girl we saw at the TVA.' you think, not ruling out the possibility that it is her with the level of weirdness that had already occurred during your short time in the void. You tread on, looking around before you spot the Honda Odyssey. You shake your head, rolling your eyes as you walk to the drivers door of the car, opening it to reveal your boyfriend in the back-seat, pulling his katana's out of the passenger's seat next to you as you plop into the driver's seat.

He looks up when he hears the car door open, and the white eyes of his mask visible soften as he sees you.

"Hey baby," he coos, scooching forward in the back-seat to press a soft kiss to your cheek through his mask as you sit in the driver's seat, peeking over the headrest to look back at him, "was wonderin' when you were gonna wake up, sleepy head."

You smile softly, before taking a moment to look around at the damage done to the car. Your eyes go wide and your hand flies to your mouth, the other reaching back to swat at Wade's shoulder.

"Wade! What the fuck did you two get up to in here? Jesus Christ!"

You hear a whisper of 'Baby Knife!' followed by a soft grunt as Wade pockets another one of his knives.

"Just some good ol' fashioned fightin', baby! I'm kinda sad you missed it, that shit got good!"

You tut, leaning around the driver's seat to look at him as he's hunched over, digging for another one of his knives beneath the seat.

You hear him mumble something along the lines of 'Hate this fuckin' car' before he shoots up, and you can sense his smile through the mask. He leans back in the seats that are in the very back of the car, right leg thrown over one seat, with his other leg spread, suit-clad knee pressing into the fabric of the other. His eyes sharpen as he looks at you, before groaning softly, throwing his head back in a circle, and sighing.

"Fuck, princess, that fightin's gotten me all worked up," he groans, chin pressed to the top of his chest as he looks at you, eyes narrowed.

You feel your thighs rub together at the way he looks at you, the manspreading the cherry on top of a very, very, delicious looking dessert. He chuckles, gesturing to your thighs with his head.

"Saw that, baby." He laughs to himself before he lifts his hand, beckoning you to him with two fingers, his other hand resting on the headrest of the seat in front of him, twiddling Baby Knife between his fingers.

You squirm in your seat before not so agilely climbing over the centre console, crawling over the seat and onto Wade’s lap. He pockets Baby Knife, bringing a hand up to pull the bottom of his mask up, the other settling on your ass as you straddle his waist. 

“Hey doll-face,” he murmurs, smiling and giving your ass a playful squeeze, pulling his mask fully off before placing his hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you into a kiss. 

You moan against his lips as you kiss back, his gloved hand giving your ass a firmer squeeze. Wade uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips as you gasp into his mouth. Your hips grind down subconsciously and he pulls away from the kiss, both of your chests rising quickly as you both try and regain your breath from the heated kiss. 

Wade smirks up at you, moving both of his hands to your hips, squeezing softly, pulling a giggle from your lips before he’s engulfing them in another breathless kiss. He moves your hips with his hands, grinding you down on his boner as it tents in his suit, causing him to buck up absentmindedly as he groans into your mouth. Your breathy whimpers vibrate against his lips, and he pulls away, leaning his head back against the headrest behind him. 

“…Fuck, doll-face,” he groans, looking up at you, “ look what you're fuckin’ do to me, baby.” 

He nods down to his dick, almost bursting out of his suit, and your mouth nearly drops open. Wade thinks to himself that if you were in an animé, you’d have heart emojis bulging from your eyes. 

He takes his hands off your hips, crossing his arms behind his head in faux-laziness as he watches you undo the buckle of his belt, slapping the sides of his legs softly, signalling for him to lift his hips. 

“Watch it, doll-face.” Wade warns, half-joking, “Ask me nicely, please.” 

You groan, giving him your ‘are-you-fucking-serious-right-now’ glare as you tug at his belt. He’d been on the receiving end of this look many times in the past, so he’s unfazed as he chuckles dryly, planting his hips down.

 “I can wait, Princess.” 

You roll your eyes, huffing. “Please, Wade,” you glare at him, “Will you please lift your hips up so I can get your dick out?” 

You add a pout and a flutter of your lashes at the end, and his resolve noticeably crumbles. He huffs, lifting his hips up off the car seat just enough for you to pull down his pants slightly. You dip your hand into his underwear, giving his dick a soft tug before freeing it from the tight pants of his Deadpool suit. 

You gather some spit in your mouth, looking at your boyfriend through your lashes before spitting onto the tip of his cock, using your hand to spread it along his length, squeezing softly around the base. Wade groans from below you, his hips bucking into your hand.

“Fuck, hotstuff, ya’ killin’ me here.” 

Wade hisses as you squeeze a bit harder around his dick, the pretty ring he’d proposed to you with cold against his skin. 

He almost whines, stopping himself by biting his lip, “Oh, c’mon baby, what’d I do to deserve this teasin’, huh? I fought so valiantly against ol’ Wolvie, didn’t I, princess? Don’t I deserve to be treated nicely?” 

Something about the whiny-ness of his tone sends a pang to your heart, and pussy, and you grind down against his thigh absentmindedly before putting both your hands on his shoulders. 

“Help me out, would ya’, Wadey?” you ask sweetly, shimmying your hips slightly to gain his attention. 

His hands fly to your tights, tugging them down your thighs, lifting your legs softly, one by one, and peeling your pants off, leaving you hovering above him in your prettiest pair of panties. You’d been wearing them as a birthday surprise for him, but you’d both been snagged by the TVA before you could put them to good use… until now. 

Wade’s breath hitches from beneath you as his eyes land on your panties, his lower lip bitten between his teeth as his chest heaves. 

“Fuck, doll-face, what’re you all dressed up for?” he says, tracing a gloved hand over the lacy hem of your white panties, pressing a soft kiss to the little blue bow in the middle, before blowing a puff of cool air onto the damp spot beneath it. 

Your legs wobble softly and a shiver runs up your spine, leaving you grateful for your hands planted on your boyfriend's broad shoulders. 

You muster the breath to say, “They’re for you, baby… Well, they were for your birthday…”

He groans softly, pressing a soft kiss to your mound before pushing the thin fabric to the side, swiping a gloved finger through your slick. 

“Shit, baby.. Y’so wet f’me,” he says, voice breathless. “Fuck those stupid fucking day players, keeping my beautiful fiance, and her beautiful fucking panties from me on my birthday. What assholes, hey baby?” He says, pressing his thumb to your clit harshly as he blows another puff of air onto your slick pussy, causing your hips to buck into the air. 

You whine softly, bringing a hand to pump Wade’s cock once again, nodding mindlessly at his question that he knows you didn’t even hear. 

Wade chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest and shooting straight to your cunt, your thighs squeezing around his hand as he thumbs your clit lazily. 

You shuffle yourself forward on his lap, holding onto Wade’s strong shoulder with your hand, the other slowly pumping his cock as you lift yourself up, breathing hitching as you push yourself down onto the tip of Wade’s dick. 

His breath hitches beneath you, rubbing soothing circles on your hips through his gloves as you sink down onto him. His hands grip your hips tighter as he bottoms out, your eyes squeezed shut as you clamp down on his length. 

“Shit, baby, I could blow my load right now.” Wade gasps, head thrown back as his grip tightens on your hips, moving you up and down on his cock. You follow suit with his movements, digging your nails into the fabric of his suit as you leverage yourself on his shoulders, pushing yourself up and slamming yourself down on his cock, a moan slipping from your lips at every drag of his dick along your walls. 

Your hips stutter slightly, and Wade takes this as his cue, moving his hands from your hips to gain a strong grip on your ass, lifting you up and slamming his hips to meet yours. You whine softly, eyebrows knitting together and biting your lip as the soft squelch of your wetness reverberates around the car, your chest heaving with exertion, skin dewy with a thin sheen of sweat. 

You throw your head back, moaning wantonly, one hand coming off of Wade’s shoulder and pressing against the roof of the car. 

“...Shit…Wade!” you stammer as he moves one hand to your lower stomach, his thumb pressing harshly on your clit through his glove.

You slam your hips down to meet Wade's quicker, chasing your high as Wade slams his hips up to meet yours, his head thrown back against the head-rest behind him, eyes closed, as he groans softly.

"C'mon, doll-face," Wade grunts from beneath you, rubbing cruel circles on your clit as he bucks into you, "...y'gonna cum? Can feel you squeezing around me, princess."

You moan softly, babbling something like a 'uh-huh' as your eyebrows knit together, eyes shutting tight as you feel the coil building in your lower belly, threatening to snap any moment.

Wade feels you clamping around him, looking up and watching as you throw your head back, your grip on his shoulder tightening.

"That's it, baby," he groans from under you, pinching at your clit meanly causing you to whimper softly, your head coming forward, forehead resting against his as you grind down onto his cock.

"C'mon, hotstuff, give it to me..." he grunts, feeling his own orgasm coming as you clench down on him like a vice, a string of curse words sputtering from your lips as he feels you gush around him.

"...Shit, baby... Good girl," he coos, fucking you through your orgasm as he cums, soft grunts sounding in your ear as he bucks into you before stilling, stopping the movements of his thumb on your clit, as he lifts you up gently and pulls out. He pulls his hand away from your clit, but not before collecting a part of the mixture of yours and his cum on his gloved fingers, pushing it slowly back in to your drooling pussy. You whine, overstimulated, and he tuts, pushing your panties back into place and pulling your pants back up your legs, leaning back in the seat as you slump against his chest.

He smiles, giving your bum a soft pat and pressing a kiss to your hairline, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I lied, doll-face, the Honda Odyssey fucks, hard.”

©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!

[generallyjl]

🙏🏻 lord, please don't let my most interacted with post on my barren tumblr dot com blog be about fucking twitter dot fucking com, amen

[norrisainz33]

Summer to Remember | MV33

☆ summary: in which Max surprises you during summer break 💍

☆ pairing: max verstappen x reader

☆ fc: none, pics from pinterest

☆ warnings: ever so slightly suggestive. you are responsible for the content you consume.

୨୧┈୨୧

yourusername made a post

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, redbullracing and 204,375 others

yourusername: strong first half of the season for my maxie! now its time to relax 🫶🏻🌊☀️

view all 433 comments

user1: if you guys need another cat i can meow

user2: how he bagged such a baddie will always be beyond me

maxverstappen1: beach baby

yourusername: 🏝️🌊☀️

redbullracing: going to miss you for a couple weeks y/n!

yourusername: i’ll miss you too admin but dw ill dm you updates

redbullracing: 🫶🏻 my queen

user2: even the rbr admin is obsessed with her and honestly i get it

maxverstappen1 added to his private story

view story replies

danielricciardo: STAY CALM EVERYBODY STAY CALM YOU KNOW THE PROCEDURE

maxverstappen1: at least one of us is staying calm

danielricciardo: i’m so excited i could explode

landonorris: LETS GOOOOOOOOO

charlesleclerc: alex and i expect a call with updates directly after

maxverstappen1: don’t worry, i’m sure she’ll call alex before i’ve even finished asking her

martingarrix: ohhh it’s finally happening 🥹

yourusername made a post

liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, iamrebeccad, alex_albon, and 486,780 others

yourusername: i don’t think im ever going to leave this place 😫

view all 546 comments

oscarpiastri: lily will miss you too much if you don’t come home

yourusername: you make a good point

maxverstappen1: you don’t have to leave, i told you we could get a condo here

yourusername: ok mr solves all my problems

user3: making my partner take notes

user4: nah bc wtf where’s my man who just offers to buy me a second house

user5: i’m sleeping on the highway

bestie: if you need company i’d happily visit 😉

maxverstappen1 added to his private story

view story replies

landonorris: the suspense is killing me can’t you do it right now

maxverstappen1: patience lando!

danielricciardo: i have a countdown set on my phone. 23 hours, 6 minutes and 23 seconds left!

maxverstappen1: danny 😂

schecoperez: so excited for you mi amigo

maxverstappen1: 💙

maxverstappen1 added to his private story

view story replies

danielricciardo: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

alexandrasaintmleux: she looks so beautiful in white 🤍

charlesleclerc: good luck mate

landonorris: facetime me in rn

oscarpiastri: lily and i are sending our best 🧡

georgerussell63: go get that girl 💙

maxverstappen1 made a post

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, charlesleclerc, redbullracing, and 1,344,234 others

maxverstappen1: she said yes! y/n thank you for completing me, supporting me and loving me. i don’t think i ever truly knew what love was until you came along. i can’t wait to make you my wife 🤍

view all 5,675 comments

user12: who is cutting onions

user14: not me sobbing over an instragram post

schecoperez: unbelievably happy for you both

landonorris: successfully did not spill the beans!

maxverstappen1: i know that was hard for you. thanks for keeping the secret and for helping me plan 😉

yourusername: i’ll always be your biggest fan. i love you to the moon and back my fiancé 💙

maxverstappen1: fiancé has a nice ring to it

danielricciardo: i love you both so much this is everything and more

yourusername: we love you more danny

danielricciardo: NOT POSSIBLE

maxverstappen1: couldn’t have done it without you mate

charlesleclerc: leo has agreed to be the ring bearer 💍

yourusername: that is the best news

user17: LEO IN THE WEDDNG?! STOPPPP

user18: this is going to be the wedding of the century

user19: seeing max happy makes me so happy

yourusername has made a post

liked by maxverstappen1, bestie, alexandrasaintmleux, redbullracing, and 454,789 others

yourusername: I AM GOING TO BE A WIFE!! the easiest yes i’ve ever said! I can’t even begin to explain how much i love you max, these past few years with you have been nothing short of a dream come true. i can’t wait to be your mrs. verstappen 🤍

view all 1,222 comments

user22: i just fell to my knees in this walmart parking lot

maxverstappen1: i’ll love you to the end of time mrs. verstappen

yourusername: promise?

maxverstappen1: promise

georgerussell63: finally!!

charlesleclerc: i am so happy for you both - congratulations 💙

user16: this is my version of the royal wedding

alexandrasaintmleux: you are going to make the most beautiful bride 🫶🏻

yourusername: and you’re going to make the most beautiful maid of honor 🤍

user33: so true love does exist huh

redbullracing: is it too early to talk about making the next world champion

user24: AINT NO WAY LMFAO

user23: admin said get to work

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☆ a/n: hope you enjoyed!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻

୨୧┈୨୧

© norrisainz33: please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[jinx-xxed]

Sweet Mornings

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; I am so insanely down bad for this man rn so I decided to finally try writing something for him!! This is in honor of him getting let out of rerun jail after over a year, I hope you enjoy ^_^

Summary; Wriothesley has to get as much of you as he can before your trip…

Content; NSFW 18+, AFAB reader, pure fluff, you’re a mechanics/weapons researcher, very domestic, morning sex, fingering, soft Wriothesley, marking, multiple orgasms, aftercare, he doesn’t want you to leave </3

Wc; 5.1k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

Low, metallic ticks and hums fill your ears as you steadily wake from sleep. The ambience of the Fortress is a familiar symphony, always there in the quiet hours before a day starts or after it’s over. When you started working down here, you quickly became so used to the noise to the point it’s like it’s not even there most of the time. You stretch in your bed, black sheets pooling around your body, and that’s when your attention shifts.

There’s gentle kisses being placed along your neck, eliciting a soft hum from you as you finally crack your eyes open. You move your head slightly to look at the man beside you, his ice blue eyes meeting yours in the darkness. “Morning.” Wriothesley says with a small smirk on his lips, returning to his ministrations on your skin.

“Good morning… how long have you been up?” You ask teasingly, a brow raised. You’re no stranger to waking up to his care since he always seems to be awake before you, and he can never keep himself away from you.

He chuckles, the raspy sound making you shudder. He feigns innocence, “only a few minutes this time.” One of his hands moves beneath the sheets, getting under your shirt to splay a large, warm palm against the softness of your stomach. It snakes up further, his fingers skating lovingly along your skin before cupping a breast in his hand. He squeezes as you shift in his grip, arching your body against his experimentally. He’s definitely hard. He pulls you ever closer and buries his nose in the crook of your neck, groaning. “What am I gonna do without you…”

Ah, right. Your trip.

The time has come again for your annual journey to Sumeru for the convention that’s held for inventors just like yourself. It’s an event to share ideas and new creations and research, full of so many brilliant minds that it’s something you always look forward to. The organizers even offered for you to be a speaker this year, saying how impressed the Akademiya was with your progress on the study of robotics and weaponry. You’d gladly accepted and have been preparing your speech ever since with Wriothesley as your test audience.

You wish he could come with you. You know he’d enjoy all the new sights and seeing the inventions people have come up with just like you do, but his position just doesn’t grant him the possibility. So that means you have to leave him and the Fortress for a week. You already know how badly you’ll miss him, having gotten so accustomed to his presence these past ten months. Getting to know what’s beneath the gruff exterior of the Duke has been a joy and you think yourself lucky to be considered his lover and to be able to share his bed.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by his fingers sneaking under the waistband of your underwear, your breath hitching. They go further, immediately finding your clit and drawing slow circles. Pleasure sparks at the bottom of your spine, a little whine leaving you as Wriothesley’s nose nudges your jaw, his messy black and silver hair tickling your cheek. He leaves kisses wherever he can reach with you both on your sides, his other arm secured diagonally across your middle to keep you against him—right where he wants you.

His fingers drag up through your drenched folds, collecting the slick there and using it as he rubs your clit. “So wet already.” He murmurs against your ear, his words breathy and hot. You can feel the way his erection rubs against your ass through his boxers, his own arousal painfully evident. Despite that, he’ll take his time with you like he always does, only ever caring about your own pleasure before his.

There’s a knot steadily building in your gut, a familiar feeling that you know the end result of. It makes your blood sing, your face becoming flushed as Wriothesley works you with expertise. You writhe against the hard planes of his bare chest when his fingers move downwards, briefly teasing your entrance before sinking two digits into the plush heat. You both moan in tandem, his fingers filling your aching pussy in the way you’d been craving, more arousal dripping along the back of his hand.

He begins a slow pace, drawing in and out and applying pressure in just the right spots. He angles himself so that the heel of his palm presses against your clit at the same time, making sure to leave nothing unattended. You bite your lip and groan, your chest heaving and your head falling back against the pillows. Your shirt has been pushed all the way up, exposing your breasts to the frigid air of Wriothesley’s bedroom and making your nipples perk. He takes full advantage, pinching each one in turn between his index and thumb, the feeling of his callouses making you whimper.

He quickens the thrusting of his fingers into your cunt, recognizing the way you begin to tense and flutter around him. He’s eager, his breath coming in pants and his hips rutting against your ass, desperate to get some kind of friction on his clothed cock. That knot from before grows larger, ready to come undone while pleasure burns like a fire beneath your skin. He manages to get a third finger into your tight pussy, stretching you wide and going as deep as he can while still abusing your clit.

“Oh fuck- Wrio-!“ You whine his name in a way that’s music to his ears, fueling his movements even more. He loves every sound you make, but he especially loves the ones in the morning when everything is quieter and breathless, like the world is only you two in that moment.

You finally break with one final thrust, your orgasm washing over you like a wave, a choked moan the only sound you can manage. You lay there for a moment, your body going limp and basking in the pleasure, before you’re craning your neck and reaching back a hand to pull Wriothesley in. You get to kiss him at last, his mouth plush and pliant against yours as your fingers card through his surprisingly silky hair. You always enjoy him a little more like this, free of his arm wrappings and cold metal. When the Duke is left behind and you have just Wriothesley—your lover. When his edges are softened, his tension laid to rest, and he can simply be himself.

Wriothesley holds you to him as your tongue presses against his own, basking in the warmth of your body. He doesn’t break your kiss even as he works down below, pulling the covers back and tugging on your soaked underwear. He throws it across the room to be picked up later once it’s finally off. He then frees his cock at last, precum beading on the tip, an appreciative groan sounding in his chest. You separate from him with a gasp when you feel his shaft rubbing between your folds, gathering your slick as his tip prods your clit with each shift of his hips.

He hums, kissing the corner of your mouth and moving down to your jaw and neck. “You’re so sensitive in the mornings.” He says like he’s making a note of it, his hand running up and down your thigh.

You groan, the temptation of him getting to be too much. “Wrio, please..”

He can’t help but smirk, those blue eyes gleaming. He leans in, his voice quiet and rumbly. “Please what, sweetheart?”

“Please… I need you.” You whisper, your hands latching onto his arm, taking comfort in the strong muscle and warm, scarred skin. His face instantly softens, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he kisses you again. Oh, he can never deny you. It’s that moment that Wriothesley finally presses his cock into your hot cunt, both of you moaning in relief. He slides in slowly, your pussy stretching to accommodate him inch by inch. He fills you in a way nothing else ever could and just when you think you may burst from it, he bottoms out.

Wriothesley groans at the way you take him fully, the way you seem to suck him in so he never wants to leave. The feeling manages to stun him every time, no matter how much he takes you to bed. “That’s my girl,” he says through clenched teeth, his breath coming out in little hisses. There’s a brief pause that you use to get over the initial shock before the desire to pump you full starts to gnaw at him and you eagerly wriggle in his hold.

The first thrust is bliss, Wriothesley slowly drawing out all the way to the tip and then slamming back in. He loves the way your body reacts—the little twitches of your muscles, the way your walls flutter and clench around him. He quickly finds his pace, something steady and easy and satisfying for you both. He could never be rough with you this early in the morning, not when your body is still soft from sleep, the blue light of the ocean illuminating your form just right and your little noises a quiet song for only him to hear.

He hooks a hand under your thigh, lifting it with ease and holding it there, giving him better access to your cunt so he can hit that spot he knows drives you insane. He can tell he’s doing just that with the way your moans grow in pitch and the way you latch on to him so desperately, needing him even closer. It makes his heart swell, feeling your touch on him and seeing how you crave him so badly. He used to think it impossible for someone to want him beyond a one night stand and yet here you are, proving him wrong day after day. Fuck, he loves you so much.

Wriothesley kisses you passionately while you take him as deep as possible so willingly, like you were made for him. You’re his sanctuary within the Fortress, his slice of heaven that he wants to keep all to himself. His lips trail down your jaw to your neck and this time he kisses with more purpose. He sucks at your skin, eager to leave his mark on you with his tongue and little nips of his teeth, his sharp canines threatening to break skin if he applies just a bit more pressure. You hum approvingly, moving your head to the side to give him more access. He then goes beyond your neck, also leaving marks across your collarbones until he’s satisfied.

His thrusts begin to grow erratic, the threat of release tingling in his muscles. Wriothesley knows you’re close too with the way you tense up, your nails biting into his skin. He reaches his free hand between your legs, finding your clit once more and rubbing quick circles, determined to have you cum at the same time. It’s an easy feat, given how responsive you are to him and how little resistance you put up. It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re clenching and coming on his cock with a moan. The feeling is otherworldly and has him tumbling over the edge after you with a curse, his hot spend painting your walls white.

You go weak against him as you both lay there sharing breath with heaving chests, your limbs feeling like jelly and buzzing with ecstasy from the double orgasm. He sets your leg down gently, both of his arms now wrapping around you to meld you to him. You don’t hesitate to snuggle into his warmth, very much enjoying the feeling of his large body encompassing yours. He relishes in this moment of intimacy, taking all he can get now before you leave him. He needs to make sure to burn the memory of this morning into his brain so he can look back on it during the week to come.

“I love you.” He murmurs, kissing your temple.

You smile, twisting around in his grip so that you’re now facing each other. You nuzzle against his jaw where there’s just a hint of stubble and you breathe him in, his familiar scent immediately soothing. “I love you too.”

He buries his face into the crook of your neck again, his breath tickling your skin. “I should handcuff you to this bed so you can’t leave…” He mutters lowly, like he’s not entirely joking.

You laugh, your hand coming up to run through his hair. “It’s only a week, I’ll be back before you know it.” He grumbles indistinctly and you smile, rubbing circles on his scarred back. It’s endearing that such a big, intimidating man like Wriothesley is going to miss you so much. It’s a massive contrast to your past partners who always had something negative to say about your work. You were gone too much, you were too distracted, or they just thought it was pointless to begin with. They never understood how important your work is to you, but Wriothesley does.

You came to Fontaine and subsequently the Fortress about two years ago after leaving the Akademiya in Sumeru, having decided that Fontaine would be much better suited for your line of work with machinery. It took a while to find somewhere that seemed right for you before hearing about the Fortress of Meropide and the gardemek production factory located on the lower levels. It seemed perfect. You pursued a position within the Fortress, having to meet with both Neuvillette and Wriothesley before you were accepted. You’d promised to be completely transparent with any and all research you conducted, any new projects or inventions, and you’d swore to not interfere with any Fortress occupants.

Wriothesley was definitely suspicious of you at first, thinking you were just another sparkly eyed researcher who didn’t know what she was doing, but he was quickly proven wrong. You showed him all of your notes on the gardemeks, how their functionality could be improved and how to avoid any deviants, and all the weapons and tools you’d created. One of the weapons was your own, a sharpshooter rifle that you’ve been able to infuse with the power of your vision. The thing doesn’t even look like its base model anymore after all the modifications you gave it.

You steadily made a home in the Fortress, working day in and day out in your office, happy to fully immerse yourself. You didn’t see Wriothesley much at first of course, the man always busy running the Fortress itself, but after a couple months, he invited you to have tea with him. You accepted, and though you worried it was actually a meeting to kick you out of the Fortress, it turned out to be quite pleasant. He asked you questions about your work and backstory and listened to every long response you gave. The way he’d give you his full attention would make a flush creep up the back of your neck.

You had more and more of these meet ups with him, where you both just sat in his office drinking tea and talking. Then it turned into you bringing some of your work in there and you’d sit on the couch tinkering with metal parts while he sat at his desk filing papers. It was comfortable and easy and you appreciated his company like he did yours. Your feelings for him definitely grew the more you were around him. His witty remarks and rough exterior captivated you and you wanted to know more about him. You wanted to see him every day, to see those softer sides of him that sometimes came out during your tea breaks.

Then, ten months ago, he surprised you by asking you to go out with him. You agreed, of course. You hadn’t known he shared your same feelings but you’d been overjoyed to find someone with a similar mindset as you, someone who didn’t care about the way you worked because he worked the same way.

So now here you are, fucked out first thing in the morning with Wriothesley’s arms securely around you. He seems like he might fall back asleep with the way his eyes are closed and his breathing is slowing down, but there’s a question you still need to ask, one that’s been gnawing at you. Too many old memories of past partners has left you anxious—something you admittedly still need to improve on.

“Hey, Wrio?”

“Hm?”

You hesitate for a second, thinking maybe it’s a dumb question after all, but you push past it. “You’ll see me off, won’t you?”

His eyes open at that, those icy blue depths piercing you. He props himself up on an elbow to look at you, his brows creasing ever so slightly. “Of course I will.” He says it so simply that you realize how silly it was for you to worry. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch impossibly gentle. “I cleared my schedule for you.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. You know how packed his itinerary is on any given day so you can’t even believe what he just said. “Really?”

He chuckles. “Yes really, sweetheart. I put in some more hours these last few days so I wouldn’t have so much to worry about today.” He says. “Now come on, we should start getting ready. Those boats leave early.”

He detaches himself from you, his heat sorely missed, and slips out of bed. He heads towards the bathroom and turns on the shower, letting it run while he comes back for you so it can get warm. Before your feet even have the chance to hit the floor, he gets a hand under your knees and scoops you up, making you yelp. He grins while you cling to him, his strong arms cradling you against his chest.

He sets you down in the bathroom, kissing the top of your head before checking the water temperature. Standing there, watching him, you realize your heart hasn’t felt this full in a long time.

» ☆ «

Wriothesley’s office is in disarray. It’s entirely your doing, with the contents of your carrying case strewn about as you finally pack in all of your inventions. You’d been working on them until the very last minute, trying to make sure everything is perfect. You’re double checking the rest of your bags while you’re at it, attempting to make sure you have all your items and to relax the anxiety you feel. What if, in some awful scenario, you forget one of your showcase pieces? Or your notes? Or your Akademiya robes?

Wriothesley simply watches you from his spot leaning against his desk, tea cup in hand. He knows he can’t help you, you have a method to your madness and if he interferes then it’ll mess you all up. So he stands back, waiting for you to finish so you can eat your breakfast. He’d gotten it brought to his office after your shower together, a simple meal of a breakfast croissant sandwich and tea, but yours still remains untouched, the steam on your drink having long since died down. He looks up when you loudly groan in frustration.

“Where’d that other damn capacitor go?” You mutter, rifling through your things on the floor to no avail.

“Over there, sweetheart.” He says, motioning to where the metal piece had rolled under the couch. He noticed it a few minutes ago but decided not to disturb you, knowing you’d realize sooner or later.

“Ah, thanks.” You say, quickly snatching it and sticking it with some other spare parts in the case. You work efficiently to get everything packed in and wrapped in cushioning so nothing gets damaged. To Wriothesley, it’s like watching someone play an expert puzzle game with the way you manage to fit so much into such tiny spaces with room to spare.

You sit back on your heels after another twenty minutes, a satisfied huff leaving you. “There. That should be everything.” You say, looking over the two-page long checklist you have. All the boxes are ticked off, some even being ticked off twice.

He chuckles, putting his finished tea down to cross his arms. “Good. Now will you please eat?”

You playfully sigh. “Fine, fine.”

You scarf down the sandwich, your hunger suddenly coming out in full force and taking what it can get. You use the tea to wash it down, noticing it’s one of Wriothesley’s fruitier blends. His tea choice changes each day, unless he gets fixated on a singular flavor. You make a game of it sometimes where he’ll test you to see if you can guess which brew he used; your results have been very 50/50.

When there’s nothing but crumbs left on your plate, you look towards the clock on the wall. It’s definitely time for you to get going. You gather your bags with Wriothesley’s help, then looking to him before descending the stairs of his office. “Ready?”

“Mhm. Are you? You sure you got everything?” He says teasingly, one eyebrow raised.

You scoff with a smirk, eyes rolling, and begin walking down the stairs as he laughs. “Don’t you even start.” You refuse to let him get to you, knowing your trusty checklist would never lie to you.

You walk through the main floor of the Fortress together, which is mostly empty except for the guards at this hour. A few of them wish you safe travels as you go, surprising you. Just as you’re about to get into the elevator, Sigewinne catches you to give you a goodbye hug and tell you to be careful since she won’t be around to fix you up. You have to use the elevator ride to compose yourself before you reach the entrance to the Fortress. It was all unexpected—you didn’t think so many people would notice your absence. It makes you smile to yourself.

You both get onto the first boat of the day, the one that’ll take you to the Fortress registration office that sits deep below the Opera Epiclese. The ride is smooth, the operator being extra polite and maybe a little fearful too because of Wriothesley joining you. You find it amusing to see everyone be so intimidated by the man who’d been snuggling you in bed only a few hours ago.

When the boat comes to a stop, you both clamber out and then into another elevator. As soon as it breaches the surface, you have to squint your eyes from the early morning sunlight. You bask in its warm rays as they hit your face, immediately washing away the chill of beneath the sea. You can see Wriothesley doing the same, his broad chest expanding as he takes a deep breath of the fresh air. Neither of you have been out of the Fortress for a while it seems.

You walk along the paths to Marcotte Station, enjoying the sounds of the birds chirping and leaves rustling as you go. It’s from there that you take an aquabus into the Court of Fontaine which is already bustling with people doing their morning shopping or taking a stroll. Not too many civilians recognize you, none of them concerned with memorizing the faces of the elusive Duke and his “sniper”, as you’ve sometimes been referred. The ones who do recognize you, though, stay out of your way or give you side glances. Fair enough.

On your journey to the next station, you grab a few pastries after your stomach started growling at you again. With all the walking, you’d burned through your morning sandwich quickly, and you’ll always take the opportunity to try some of the new foods the city has to offer. Anything is better than most of the food they have in the cafeteria down in the Fortress.

The Court of Fontaine Station is more crowded than you expected, full of people coming and going. You head to the second floor for the Clementine Line, the aquabus having just arrived. You have to refrain from laughing at the way Wriothesley has to squeeze between the crowds with his hulking form, the man looking painfully out of place. You think it’s adorable. You both get situated on the upper level of the aquabus, glad to be able to set down your bags for a while.

There’s less than an inch of space between you and Wriothesley, the warmth of his body against yours a comfort. You’d told him he didn’t have to come all this way with you, since you felt bad about dragging him across the region, but he’d insisted. Going with you would soothe his nerves, he said. It makes you feel funny, like butterflies in your stomach, and extremely fortunate. You still remember old partners that would brush you off, scoffing at you and half heartedly wishing you luck on your “silly trips” while saying they don’t want to waste all that time just to see you get on a boat.

The melusine at the head of the aquabus, Aeval, begins to speak, breaking you out of your thoughts as she gives her typical spiel. The aquabus comes to life, the engine releasing a healthy purr while it starts to churn the water beneath it. You look to your left, to Wriothesley. He’s reading one of the informational pamphlets they provide during the rides, one leg crossed over the other. You can’t help yourself from reaching forward and tapping the back of his wrapped hand, a simple way for you to communicate without speaking. He immediately flips his hand over for you so that you can place yours in it, your fingers intertwining.

“Breeze is nice, isn’t it?” He asks, tilting his head up and briefly shutting his eyes. His messy hair gently blows across his face, those silver strands more prominent in the sunlight.

You nod along absently. “Mhm.”

Wriothesley’s gaze finds yours as he looks you over. “You okay?” He says. It seems he noticed the small anxious twitches you thought you were hiding. He’s always been able to tell when your mind is running a bit too fast, your anxiety getting the better of you despite your best efforts. You constantly forget how perceptive he is until the moment he calls you out on your worrying.

“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just…” you pause, debating what to say by rolling your lip between your teeth. You finally take a deep breath, bumping your shoulder against his. “Thank you. For coming with me.”

His expression softens, a gentle smile tilting his lips. “Of course, sweetheart. That’s not anything you need to thank me for, though. I wanted to see you off.” He says, squeezing your hand comfortingly.

“I know but…” you shrug, giving him a smile of your own, “I appreciate it regardless.”

It’s not much longer before the aquabus reaches Romaritime Harbor, Aeval giving her final notes on Fontaine scenery and wishing everyone a good day. You two follow the other passengers into the station, heading to the ground level where there’s already a crowd waiting. You recognize a few people, fellow researchers heading to the convention in Sumeru. It seems that makes up a majority, actually. Everyone has their multitude of bags that seem packed with fancy gadgets and inventions that they plan to show off just like you.

You hang back with Wriothesley, knowing you’ll have plenty of time to mingle on the long boat ride anyway. You listen to the rush of the massive waterfalls behind you, the mist brushing your skin. “I haven’t been out this far in a long time.” Wriothesley mutters, squinting into the distance as if he could see beyond the desert and into the heart of Sumeru.

“Last time I was here was for last year’s convention.” You say. You make a hmph sound. “We don’t get out much, do we?”

He laughs. “No, we don’t. The Fortress never really calls for it.”

“True.”

The aquabus at last rounds the corner of the desert, quickly approaching the harbor. This one is bigger than any of the aquabusses in the Fontaine stations, with three levels instead of two. People shuffle about, grabbing their bags and talking excitedly with one another. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself and facing Wriothesley. It’s finally time for you to say goodbye, no matter how much it pains you to see that subtle sadness in his eyes.

You know he’s not one for public displays of affection but you can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, breathing him in one more time. He obliges you, his strong arms coming around you in turn. “I’ll miss you so much.” He says into your neck.

“Me too.” You say, rubbing your hands up and down his back. “I’ll be back in no time at all.” When you’re pulling away, you sneak a kiss to his cheek, making the both of you smile dumbly.

“Be safe, okay? Don’t be afraid to punch anybody.” Wriothesley tells you.

You chuckle. “You know I won’t.” He’s seen you in the ring enough times to know that.

He looks at you fondly, a soft sigh leaving him. He brushes some of your hair back, then leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You’ll do great. Tell me all about it when you come back.”

You nod, grinning. “I will, I promise.”

By now the aquabus has docked in the harbor, people steadily climbing off while others wait to board. You gather all of your things. “Alright. I’ll see you in a week.” You say with as much determination as you can muster.

Wriothesley dips his head. “See you in a week. I love you.”

“Love you too, Wrio.” You respond, your heart feeling like it might burst out of your chest.

You finally make yourself follow the rest of the crowd onto the aquabus, managing to get a spot up top so you can catch all the pretty sights. You say hello to a few other inventors while you wait to depart, some of them recognizing you as one of the speakers for this year. It’s refreshing to see so many other eager young minds just like yours, the passion for their craft obvious.

When the aquabus finally begins to move away from the harbor, you find yourself at the railing. You’d expected him to have disappeared, to have begun his long trek back to the Fortress, to have been satisfied with seeing you to the aquabus—but Wriothesley is still standing there. You smile wide and wave goodbye to him, his hand lifting to do the same.

He doesn’t turn away until you’re nothing but a speck in the distance.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆ 

Chapter 4, Raw, next question

Masterlist

Word count: 1.8 k

Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: Here we go babes! I hope ya'll like it. I am going to be very busy this weekend and part of next week, so I'll leave ya'll with this for the upcoming few days. Lots of love <3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

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It's not like you to forget about watching a Red Crow video, but it totally slipped your mind after Tara started suggesting different single guys to you. Seems like she's known Sylus for a while and isn't stoked about the idea of you liking him. For some reason, that gets you going even more. 

Sure, could be that he is a disturbed individual, but you figure it has more to do with his cold demeanor. It almost sounded like she was talking you out of talking to him again after her offer to give him your number. Almost like she suddenly remembered something. Could it be that she also knows about what he does? If that's the case, she's less innocent that you thought she was. 

Either way, she kept you busy until there was a knock at the door and you realized it was already 2 am. No wonder you had been getting sleepy. 'I'll get it,' you offer, you brain fried once more but this time the sleepiness is to blame. Tara giggles in response. 

You expected Kieran to come knocking so that Tara could drive him home. Instead, Sylus leans over you once more when you open the door, one hand on the top of the doorframe the other in his pocket. He's incredibly close, closer than one normally is when knocking on someone's door. Is he doing this on purpose?  

The smell of whiskey and cigarettes hang around him like a cloud, mixing in with his cologne to create the most intoxicating smell you've ever smelled. His shirt is a little more unbuttoned than it was before and there's a slight pink tint to his cheeks. You figure he's drunk or close to drunk. 

But then he speaks, and he sounds stone cold sober: 'Hey, can you tell Tara Kieran is sleeping over. He is in no state to move.' 

'What happened to “taking it easy”,' Tara shouts from the couch. Sylus stands up a little straighter, removing his hand from the doorframe, and looking over top of me to Tara on the couch. He grins slyly. 

'Nothing we haven't done before.' She hops off the couch and rushes over, looking slightly agitated. 

'Sylus, that can refer anywhere from a gross shot to LSD,' she snaps at him. He leans down over her like he just had with me. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, and it almost looks like her hair is puffing up like an angry cat. Suddenly, you understand why she might've wanted to curb your interest in Sylus but the teasing tone that slips from his lips so easily gets you fucking going. Without really noticing it, you bite your lip for no more than a second while your thighs rub together. 

He notices though. His eyes flicker over to you for just a second and his grin widens ever so slightly. 'No drugs. I quit that stuff. He's just very drunk.' Tara groans. 'You can check if you want.' 

'I will,' she snaps as she pushes past the two of you and quickly disappears into Sylus’ apartment. 

And suddenly, you are harshly reminded what happened the last time you and Sylus were alone. Reminded of that video that you still haven't fully watched. The first few seconds are engraved in your memory. Sylus, completely dressed with his hand slowly rubbing over the tent in his pants, low groans leaving his lips. 

When you look up at him again, you swear he knows exactly what's going on in your mind. There's that sly grin on his lips again. 'Having a fun night?' 

'Oh, fuck you,' you groan, and feel yourself puff up like Tara had as you cross your arms with an annoyed expression on your face. If he knows, you might as well cuss him out for it. He deserves as much, and he seems to like it as a rich laugh slips from his lips. 

He leans even closer, still towering over you with his eyes focused on yours. You feel your cheeks and ears heat up like you've just shoved your head against a space heather. 'You know who I am,' he states. You can almost feel your attitude melt like snow thrown on a fire as you nod.  

'You know what I do,' his voice is gravely, low, seductive. He's enjoying this. You nod again. No more snow, only fire. Fire in your loins and in your fucking ovaries. You are going to burst. He moves in even closer. 

'Use your words, sweetie.' One of his two signature pet names for his audience. Your panties are soaked, your blood is boiling, and your attitude is back. Because, if he keeps this going, you two will be down and dirty right here in your doorway. Ain't no way you're letting Tara see you in that state. 

'Back the fuck up before I jump your bones.' Maybe you should've just said the first part. His confidence wafers for a second before he realizes what you mean. He’s even closer now, his lips next to your ear, voice barely above a whisper. 

'Did you like what you did to me?' 

'Kieran is passed out,' Tara loudly announces before peaking her head around the corner. Before she can, Sylus moves back and crosses his arms, looking like he's bored out of his mind while you are bright red in the face. 'Sylus, help me get him in the car. We have plans tomorrow.' 

'Yes ma’am.' 

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3 am. The world outside is quiet, just like Sylus likes it. Kieran was a real pain to get in the car but at least he gets to listen to some records on his own now. Luke had left long before but Kieran always sticks. Sylus can only hope he'll be awake enough to walk into Tara's apartment when they get there. 

Today had been interesting to say the least. He hasn't been this risky in a long time, teasing someone who clearly knows who he is. Could be a very awkward situation in the future if she ever grows over her lust for him, but for now he's fine. This could be a fun little game between the two of them. No one else needs to know, but what if he just films his content after he's seen her. Like how he did today. 

Short conversation, make a video wearing what she saw him in, turn her on so he can listen to her sweet little moans pierce through the thin walls. He does need to keep his schedule though, otherwise it'd be too suspicious. On the other hand, no one would complain about an extra video occasionally. 

The soft thud of the needle bumping off his record pulls Sylus out of his trance. The room is suddenly awfully silent. Then, he hears it. 

The softest of whimpers. 

He turns off the record player and walks into his room curiously. The sound is coming from the air extractor fan in the bathroom, just as it had this afternoon. The shower isn't running and your noises sound farther away, so it's possible that you're in your bedroom with the bathroom door open. 

"Is she doing this on purpose," Sylus questions as he stands in the middle of his bathroom, listening to the sounds you make while his dick starts to strain against his pants. "Would she hear it if I did the same thing?" 

His curiosity quickly gets the better of him. Just for good measure, he quickly sets up his phone to record on top of the toilet reservoir and presses record. Then, he moves to lean against the sink cabinet, his head thrown back as he rubs over the fabric of his pants, just as he had this afternoon. 

He hears a particularly lewd moan and prays to the gods above his phone picked the sound up. His hand moves to his zipper and he undoes himself skillfully and fast. He takes his dick out of his boxers, not bothering to take his pants off. It's hard as a fucking rock and already leaking with just those little sounds. 

"What is this woman doing to me?"  

Lazily, he starts stroking his dick. Soft groans and moans slipping from his lips, suppressed in an attempt to still hear you through the vents. Then the prettiest picture slips into his mind. 

You, laying on your back in his bed, naked. Heels planted on his mattress, legs spread, hands lazily pulling on the hair on the back of his head. That beautiful blush on your cheeks, looking desperate and longing for release while he drives his length into you. The little sounds you make, so much louder when he's this close, so much more beautiful. Your eyes focused on him and only him. 

His hand starts moving faster, chocking his dick ever so slightly while his other hand grips the sink, knuckles turning white. An animalistic sound leaves his throat, a sound he's never made before. Something like a chocked growl. 

God, that image. He'd lean in closer, wrap his arms around your body to pull you closer, his lips exploring the expanse of your neck and shoulders while your nails leave trails on his back. One of his hands would leave your body, move to your little bud of nerves to help you reach ecstasy. 

Another growl leaves his throat, louder this time. He's getting so close after so little time. Is this really all because of you? Because some pretty girl showed interest in him? He's not sure, but the picture in his mind keeps getting more and more realistic. His eyes screw closed, head leaning forward now, his breathing heavy. 

He'd sit down on his heels, pull you onto his lap and hold you close to his chest, as close as humanly possible, while picking up the pace and drilling into you. Your pretty little moans would get louder, would morph into his name so beautifully strewn out on your tongue, barely recognizable to anyone but him. And you'd bite his collarbone. The pain and pleasure of the whole thing tipping him over the edge, his hands bruising your skin, serving you the same mixture to help you fall into the abyss with him. 

Hot ropes of cum lay on the tiles in front of Sylus while he tries to catch his breath. He doesn't hear your voice anymore, so you must be done as well. 

"What the hell just happened?" 

He steadies himself and grabs his phone from the toilet reservoir, stopping the recording. Before he can throw the thing to the side again, he gets a notification on his video from this afternoon. When he opens it, the name and profile picture look awfully familiar. It's you, there's no denying it. His lips pull into a grin when he reads your comment. 

"Raw, next question." 

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[sundays-lover]

stupid in love

husband!zhongli x gn!reader — fluff

synopsis: you're a talkative drunk and zhongli is in love.

content warning: reader is drunk and mentioned to have hair (lmk if i missed anything !)

notes: NOT PROOFREAD <3 ; zhongli is a wonderful lover but let's not forget that he is also canonically a menace 🫶 ; i'm writing and posting as much as i can rn bc i'll be inactive this week because of exams 😭

zhongli can't recall a time when he felt this helpless.

as the geo archon, he possesses the strength of a thousand meteors raining from the sky and has emerged victorious from numerous battles. his voice has commanded countless armies and his hands formed the towering mountains liyue is well-known for today. he is a respectable leader who can devise efficient strategies to overcome any obstacle he may face.

however, at this moment, he is not rex lapis, the god of contracts and liyue's archon. he is the simple zhongli, the funeral consultant of the wangsheng funeral parlor and, above everything, your husband.

tonight, his duty is to get you home. unfortunately for him, you don't seem to want to comply.

you notified him this morning that you and your co-workers would be going out for drinks that night to celebrate a successful business deal, with the promise that you would be monitoring how much you'll drink. while he had his doubts, he trusted that you would have a sense of rationality regardless of if you were sober or not and didn't question you further.

in hindsight, he supposes he should have enforced his doubts when he bumped into a co-worker of yours as he clocked out of work, who sounded tipsy, yet sober enough to inform him that you were currently drunk off your mind and needed help getting home.

that is exactly how he found himself trying to calm down a drunk you on the streets of liyue.

you threw yourself onto him the moment he arrived, not even bothering to bid goodnight to your acquaintances who were putting a group effort into keeping you balanced. after zhongli thanked them for finding him and wished them farewell in your stead, they took their leave. as they turn to head to their respective homes, they could hear you loudly thanking your lover for coming get you.

while the area was significantly less populated at night compared to during the day, the unusual sight of the normally collected funeral consultant struggling to bring his drunkenly rambling spouse home caught the attention of whoever was in the vicinity, causing an embarrassed blush to spread to his face which he ultimately chose to ignore.

his experience as a god and warrior never could have prepared him for this situation, he surmises.

meanwhile, you catch the look of powerlessness on his face and stifle a laugh.

“heh, you look so stupid right now~!”

zhongli gapes at you as you burst into a fit of giggles.

“my husband~ so silly~ so dumb~” your hands reach out and cup his face before he has the chance to pull back.

he merely stares at you as you sing what he wants to believe are praises in your drunken tongue. at this distance—or rather, the lack thereof—he can see your details more clearly; your hair is disheveled and eyes droopy. your gaze is unfocused yet fixated on the way his skin squishes under your thumb.

but he thinks you're beautiful nonetheless. the glow of the street lanterns frame your figure and he thinks you look akin to the radiant sun. moonlight shines down upon you and its gleam creates the illusion of you emitting a halo. he takes these as signs from the universe, reminding him to cherish you with his entire being, for they have sent him their best. he is certain that whatever celestia can offer does not hold a candle to you.

this god of stone crumbles to dust from your touch alone…

while you busy yourself with poking and pinching his cheeks.

he regains awareness of the situation and breaths a resigned sigh. you watch his face soften and shift to an expression that almost looks pleading, and you gasp loudly.

“ooh! so handsome!!!” you squeal, attracting even more onlookers. “i want to kiss you on the mouff—”

zhongli beats you to it, placing a hand behind your head and gently leaning in for a kiss as deep as his adoration for you. you think your knees would have buckled if it weren't for the arm he had wrapped around your waist. you think you hear some of the lady passersby coo at your display of romance, but the echo of your heartbeat in your ears drowns them out.

his lips move slowly against yours, savoring the flavor of the bitter remnants of alcohol mixed with the sweetness of your lips. he doesn't think he's ever tasted a flavor as divine as this.

you are dazed when he pulls away, as though bewitched. he notices and chuckles, eyes full of mirth and tenderness as they peer into yours.

he speaks up, almost breathless. “you look very…”

no, no, no! if he starts charming and complimenting you after all that, you might think you’ll consider marrying him for a second time—

“...stupid right now, my love.”

you blink once. twice.

then you burst.

“you…!”

you thrash in his hold and bury your face in his chest, feeling a bashful warmth rise to your face for the first time tonight.

“you can't pull that on me! so mean…” you mumble into the lapel of his coat.

he chuckles again, more heartily this time. ugh, darn that handsome laugh…

“i apologize, my love.” you sense a teasing lilt, but you can tell he's sincerely coaxing you. a hand remains on the back of your head as you lean against him, fingers softly running through the strands of your hair.

zhongli remains that way, patiently waiting for your emotions to settle. when he hears you meekly mutter his name, he turns to you in his hold.

“yes, dearest?”

“...let's go home, please?”

he mentally sighs in relief. externally, he calmly adheres to your request with a nod. “then we shall head home at once.”

he pulls away to position you so that you are held onto his arm as he leads you home, acting as your support while you keep yourself upright.

the walk home is neither dull nor quiet as you relentlessly babble about any and every topic that you can think of. you sway and stumble over the rocky pavement, but your incredibly attentive husband would never let you fall. frankly, he'd be more than happy to carry you if you asked.

a thought briefly flashes in his mind concerning how he's going to peacefully get you washed up and tucked in bed, but one look at you chatting away into the night and he supposes that he can afford to save those worries for after arriving home. until then, he entertains your mindless chatters with hums of acknowledgement and short quips as you walk arm in arm.

[jyoongim]

I have a brainrot to share and maybe it's a request idk but I feel like I have to preface this by saying I swear I have normal non-horny alastor thoughts he's just really taking up so much space in the brain rn.

Anywaaay, can you imagine Alastor with an extremely cautious darling? He wants her soul to keep her tied to him forever but no matter how good his offer is, reader turns him down and Alastor is just like sick of the rejections and the scheming so he's just gonna stoop to some other ungentlemanly methods.

And the night starts off as their normal fuckery in the sheets but Alastor starts denying them their climax and as reader gets more and more desperate Alastor proposes the deal again. Sell him your soul or he's just gonna pull out and go to sleep and he'll never let you finish ever again. and just

i swear i swear im normal i swear im not always like this 😭😭😭

Themes: rough sex, orgasm denial, alastor being a little shit, dealmaking, hair pulling, pet names, plot if you look hard enough, soul possessing

Title: Deal of a Lifetime

Alastor had always made it known that you were his.

It took you a while to figure it out from the subtle lingering touches to the way he acted. No matter how much time you had spent with the Radio Demon, you were still wary of him.

its not like you could help it through. 

Does were naturally skittish anyway.

And when it came the smiling demon, you had every right to be cautious.

Tonight Alastor made plans for the two of you to go out on a date for dinner.

You finished preening your hair and rushed to the lobby to meet Alastor.

”O-okay I’m ready. Sorry if i took so long” you said nervously as you approached the tall red demon, a blush bleeding into your cheeks as Alastor let out a low whistle as he took your hand and spun you around.

”my my Darling, what a pretty Doe I have” he purred, kissing your hands.

Your nerves were going haywire, fighting your instinct to back away you smiled “so what do you have planned tonight?”

what do you have planned tonight? Alastor grin widened at the thought as he watched you happily look at the menu.

How pretty you were in your black dress. Gloved hands excitedly tapping the menu. A bright look in your eye as you honed in on what might be your dinner.

You even wore the necklace he had gifted you.

Alastor was content with the looks you got as you strolled around with him.

you were his and everyone knew.

But you weren’t his officially.

At least in his way.

For years, Alastor had offered you a deal; Be his. In body, mind, and soul.

He wanted you by his side forever and a deal would solidify that.

But each and every time, you rejected the notion.

”I dont need to make a deal to be yours Alastor” was always your answer.

And quite frankly, he was getting sick of it.

But he was nothing if not resourceful. After all, how else do you capture a Doe?

Make them drop their guard.

The two of you chatted and ate to your hearts content.

When the waiter suggested dessert, Alastor simply declined, stating he had other ideas sending you a wink.

Back at the hotel, Alastor whisked you away to his bedroom.

Once the door was closed, he pounced; lips on yours and claws tearing at your dress.

You were flustered and aroused. Your hands massaged at his undercut as he laid you on your back on the bed.

His lips trailed your neck, sharp teeth nipping at your flesh, causing you to gasp.

”Alastor”

He hummed as he kissed your torso, tweaking and sucking at your nipples.

His claws dipped to your pantie, finding them soaked.

He chuckled “such a needy Doe” he tore off your panties to toy with your puffy clit and circle your slit.

You tugged his hair to bring his lips back to yours and moaned in his mouth as a finger dipped into your cunt.

Satisfied with how you began grinding into his hand, he discarded his pants and his heavy cock slapped against your mound.

You panted breathlessly as he teased his cock along your slit. You hooked a leg around his waist and threw your head back as he sunk into you.

Soft thrusts opened you to allow him deeper into the warm canal.

You arched as he steadily picked up his pace.

Your nightly rendezvous with the demon always made you feel exhilarated.

Alastor was very attentive to you. Always knew what made you tick.

He knew your body better than anything, so when he saw those pretty eyes flutter and how you cried out in pleasure, he knew how to handle you.

Your cunt was clinging to him with each thrust he gave you.

The sound of him sinking into your warm depth was music to his ears.

”On your knees dear” he said, patting your thighs.

Happliy, you turned over and lowered yourself into a deep arch, presenting him with your adorable ass and wet cunt.

Alastor admired you.

how submissive you were.

He growled as he lowered his weight on you and guided his cock by to his haven.

You gasped, feeling a hand wrap your hair into a fist, pulling your face up out the pillows “You sound so lovely doe, i wanna hear those tunes of yours”

His thrusts were hard, jolting your body as he rutted into you.

Subconsciously, you tried to meet his thrusts, whining as he hit that spot that has you seeing hearts.

”A-Al-Alastor i-I’m gonna…” you moaned feeling your cunt be wrecked.

Your insides tingled with the telltale signs of your orgasm.

But your sweet release was ripped from you when Alastor slowed his pace.

You tried to wiggle your hips against him, to seek that explosive pleasure.

Alastor was having none of that.

”Not yet darling” 

over and over he teased you right to that delicious edge, just to rip from you.

You were sobbing, ears flat to your skull as your cunt fluttered from your orgasm being denied.

You reached for him, whether for a anchor or a silent plea, you didn’t know.

You whimpered “Alastor please!”

His smile creased his cheeks, feigning a concerned tone “What ever the matter my dear Doe?”

He started thrusting into you, relishing in the soppy squish and how deep he was able to sink into you.

”Please please let me cum. I can’t..I-Ill do anything!”

A harsh thrust made you squeal

”Anything?”

You nodded, a moan ripping from your throat as he teased your throbbing clit.

”Then be mine. Submit your entire self to me my sweet doe. I already your sweet body and heart, but give me your soul. Let me own your very essence. Grant me that darling and ill grant you the sweet relief you so desperately crave” 

your insides clenched as he kissed your shoulder, beginning to pound into your soft cunt.

”or i empty myself inside this sweet cunt of your myDoe and you’ll never be granted a taste of my cock every again”

His lips at your ear, “your choice so what do you say Mon Cher?”

his hips grinded his cock into.

”Do we have a deal?”

You cried out, feeling your orgasm teetering “yes! Yes!Yes! YES! Please Alastor! Alastor just let me cum please please”

You felt your ring finger burn as he chuckled deeply

”why of course sweet Doe, cum for me”

A high pitched scream racked the walls as your orgasm clashed into, sending you in a babbling mess.

Alastor rode out your orgasm as he thrusted into you, before emptying himself inside you.

You shook as he wrapped you in his arms, bringing your hand to his lips.

A shiny gold ring adorned your hand.

He pressed a kiss to it and then an affectionate kiss to your forehead.

”Sweet sweet doe, my sweet Doe, all mine”